Jack Abbot’s Wife (real)

his head was tilted up, groaning to the ceiling. his readers had gone out of alignment, it now sat on the pointiest tip of his nose. his hair unruly from your fingers roughly running across his scalp, and his face flushed and sweaty — he looked absolutely laughable like this. what would his peers or juniors think if they caught their very serious and very professional attending — helpless before a pretty young thing?

there was a large, creamy stain starting to form on jack’s dress pants, and it’s only getting bigger the longer you keep this up. 

“oh god. fuck– ff-fifty. i’m fifty.” he almost whined at the end of his response. 

“again.” you pressed. the roll of your hips getting faster and more desperate.

“i’m fifty. i’m fifty.” he held you firmly at the soft curve where your hips met your thighs, encouraging your movements. his breathing had become more ragged, his moans and groans getting much louder as he’s nearing his peak. 

you begged once more. “say it again, please. dad, please! i’m gonna cum if you tell me again. please. please! i’m gonna cum–” 

since you asked so nicely, looking so pretty as you did, jack leaned in close to the shell of your ear. the lightest touch of his lips and the gruffness of his voice made you shiver. 

“i’m fifty years old, babydoll. shouldn’t have any business playing around with your dad like this, hm? but you’re a nasty girl. when nasty girls feel achey here–” he pressed the pad of his thumb over your throbbing clit. “–they fuck themselves on their dads’ cock.”

“aahh!” you shrieked at the top of your lungs, the walls of your cunt intensely pulsated around his fat length. 

“shit! i’m gonna cum. i’m not wearing a condom – baby, baby i gotta pull out!” he tried to maneuver himself so he could take himself out before he shot his load in you. 

but you kept yourself buried deep, using your position to your advantage. 

“babydoll–” jack warned you. “get up, young lady.”

“no!” 

he wriggled and squirmed beneath you. he should be able to overpower you but if he got up all of a sudden, he’s afraid he might push you down the floor or hurt you in any way. he just desired for you to gently pull out. 

“you asking to get spanked?!” 

he didn’t mean to raise his voice, but he’s very strict about using practising safe sex. it was already risky enough to let you warm his cock in the first place. he also didn’t want you to feel regret  — if something or someone did come to fruition. he didn’t want to put any pressure on you if you were unprepared to step into that chapter of your lives. 

“don’t care, daddy. jus’ wanna feel you cum inside me. i need it.” if that was not convincing enough for him, you took hold of his face in your hands to look him in the eyes. 

despite the sensitivity of your core, you started to slowly grind on his lap again, mercilessly not giving your lover any other choice. 

that made the dam burst, loads and loads of his spend was released in your sex. his cries were sharp, the loudest you’d ever heard from him. you noticed there were actual tears in his eyes, you carefully wiped them away with the tips of your fingers. 

“daddy? i reallyyy want a sister, but i don’t care that much at all, to be honest. a healthy sibling would be perfect.” ♡

you lean down to place a kiss to the head of him, then another. then another and another while giggling as you think about how cute his pink tip is. you hear him sigh impatiently and you blink up at him through bleary eyes. "s-sorry *hic* soryy jackie- 's jus sooo pretty."

he runs a hand through his silver curls before reaching down to try and haul you off your knees. his arms grip under your armpits like how a parent picks up a toddler. " 's alright baby you don't have to. lets just go to sleep alright?"

but you squirm out of his hold and firmly plant yourself on your knees. pouting all serious now. "no! i can do it *hic* promise!" after a second of scanning your face for doubt, jack nods and settles back into the couch when all he finds is determination.

you wrap your manicured hand around his pretty cock, a lopsided grin forms on your face when you hears jack's breath catch. you prop your elbow on one of his spread knees and rest your cheek against your fist as you stroke him way too slowly due to time meaning nothing to you in your buzzed state of mind.

you don't even realize you're eye lids drooping until jack thrusts up into your hand with a rough, "cmon baby." you jolt upright instantly, swallowing down a drunken yawn before forcing yourself to focus on the task at hand. sweetly saying "sorry jackie."

you bend forward to lick him, a long stripe from base to tip that has you smacking your lips with a "mmmm tastes good." jack huffs a laugh thats snuffed out by a groan when you take him in your mouth.

one languid suck of his length has you feeling dizzy. but not the usual kind of dizziness that blooms from pleasure, the intoxicated kind. when you bob back up the world spins, you mumble jacks name weakly before your hands shoot out to grab at his thick thighs.

he straightens instantly, cursing as he grips your biceps, hard cock still standing at attention inches from your face. "no more." he grunts with a grimace on his wrinkled face, looking like he's about to try and move you from your spot again.

but he's so hard! and you told him you wanted to do this. and you still do. you love making him feel good and getting drunk was not going to stop you from doing so. you start to whine and shimmy out of his hold. " 'm jus too dizzy. *hic* help me please?" your lower lip wobbles and tears brim at your waterline. jack gives you a doting smile and strokes your hair, not being able to say no to you. "course i can sweetheart."

thinking he's gonna fuck your face, you form an 'o' and go to take him back in your mouth. you squeak in surprise when jack grips your hair and gently tugs you back to look up at him. he chides "nuh uh baby. dont wan't you gettin' nauseous." before you can even argue he lays his thumb on your tongue and drags it outwards. "lemme do all the work. stick that tongue out. good girl- just like that."

you giggle at the praise, shifting on your knees so he has a better view of you all glossy eyed and pliant for him. jack takes himself in his vein covered hand and starts to leisurely stroke. watching him touch himself has your cheeks heating and thighs squirming. "jackiee" you whine, for nothing in particular.

but he just shakes his head as his movements speed up, grunting as he twists his wrist at the tip. "don't worry baby. just sit there and look pretty- fuck- y'so pretty sweetheart." after however long -you're so wasted you couldn't say- his jaw clenches and his thighs tense and you can tell he's getting close.

you see his aged face pinch as he squeezes the thick base with his hand while staring at you wide eyed for him. your hands start to feel real useless. so you reach out to grip his balls to help! he groans loudly as you start to massage them in your soft palm.

"fuck- just like that- doin so good-" his praises have you sober the tiniest bit, enough to lean forward and dribble some spit onto his glistening tip. jack throws his head back in a broken moan before gluing his blown out eyes back to yours. "gonna cum- tongue out f'me. now."

you obey him, instantly rewarded by the sound of jack cumming, groaning your name along with a string of lewd praises. "oooh fuck- fuck baby- so good. you're so good-" he tilts his hips forward as his hand jerks himself rapidly, his salty release spraying you from your extended tongue, to your smudged mascara covered cheeks, to the tip of your nose. he only collapses when you're entirely painted in his cum, slowly blinking down at you. his chuckle at your huge grin and sticky face is weak and satisfied.

you stick your tongue out to start to lick up his release but he stops you by successfully picking you up and dropping you on the couch. "leave it." he demands as he makes his way down your body to spread your legs with his large palms.

--- --- ---

It was a quiet evening which alone felt weird. Jack had just left for nightshift and you were still sitting at the kitchen table, watching Lizzie eat dinner.

Or more - watching her push pieces of pasta around her plate before dropping her fork with a small sigh. Lizzie had inherited Jack’s appetite and normally treated every meal like she had been starving for several days so… that was suspicious.

You looked her over. “Do you want any more, Bean?”

She shook her head and rubbed both hands over her eyes. You looked at the clock. It was barely past seven.

“Are you already tired, baby?”

She nodded slowly and immediately stretched her arms toward you. “Mommy.”

You lifted her out of her chair and settled her against your hip. Her head dropped onto your shoulder almost immediately.

“Wow, baby huh?” you whispered, pressing a kiss to her hair. “Someone really is tired.”

She felt warm. Not alarmingly hot but warmer than usual. And heavier somehow as if she wasn’t helping hold herself up against your shoulder.

You carried her into the bathroom, somehow managed to brush her teeth (despite her barely opening her mouth) and changed her diaper before putting her into pajamas. She didn’t protest once.

No attempts to run away without pants. No argument about brushing her teeth. No dramatic collapse onto the bathroom floor because you wouldn’t let her take her toothbrush to bed.

That was even more concerning than the warmth of her skin.

“Let’s check your temperature, hm, Lizzie Bear?” you murmered.

100.8°F.

Not too bad. She had probably just caught another daycare virus. Daycares were breeding ground for germs so… not surprising she had caught something.

You gave her some children’s Tylenol, made sure she drank a little water and lifted her onto her hip again. “You want to sleep in Mommy’s bed?”

For the past few weeks the answer had always been yes. Usually accompanied by tears, screaming and her clinging to your neck like she was made of velcro.

Tonight… she shook her head. “Izzie bed.”

You stopped, blinking. “You want to sleep in your own bed?”

She nodded sleepily.

That should have felt like progress. Instead something uncomfortable settled in your stomach.

You carefully placed her in her bed, expecting her to immediately sit up again and demand to come with you.

She didn’t.

She rolled onto her side, hugged her stuffed giraffe against her chest, put her thumb into her mouth and closed her eyes. Within a minute she was asleep.

You stood beside her bed, watching her. 

It felt… wrong.

You placed your hand against her forehead again - she was still warm but not too hot. She would feel better once the Tylenol kicked in.

“Sleep well, baby” you whispered and kissed her hair.

When you left the room you left the door open. Just in case.

Jack: Shift is crazy. Just sneaked to the bathroom to text you. How are my girls? You: Lizzie barely ate and went to sleep in her own bed. Jack: Maybe the peek-a-boo worked? You: She also feels a little warm. Jack: You can give her Tylenol if she’s running a fever. Probably just daycare germs. Keep an eye on her and make sure she drinks. You: Yes, Dr. Abbot. Jack: I’d love some sexting but need to run again. I love you. You: Love you too

You cleaned the kitchen, then the living room. When you glanced at the clock it was barely nine. You sat down, staring at nothing in particular. You had almost forgotten how it was when you didn’t have a clingy toddler stuck to your hip - you really got shit done.

And still… it felt wrong.

You took a shower and washed your hair. You didn’t bother to blow-dry it - you didn’t want to wake up Lizzie and you would take care of them in the morning anyway. After checking on Lizzie again you went to bed, shortly after ten.

You were exhausted. After the last few weeks you should have fallen asleep the second your head touched the pillow - but you couldn’t.

The bed suddenly was too… empty. Jack wasn’t there because he was working. And Lizzie wasn’t there either. It just felt… wrong. It was too quiet.

You turned onto your side and closed your eyes but sleep wouldn’t come. You tried breathing exercises - nothing. You tried counting sheep - nothing. You tried to remember what Jack had told you about that incredibly boring medical article - nothing.

At eleven thirty you went into Lizzie’s room again and placed your hand against her forehead. She was still warm. When you took her temperature it was 102.1°F.

You sat beside her for a while, watching her breathe. You frowned a little. Maybe you were imagining it but she was breathing a little faster than usual. But then… you were tired and probably saw ghosts.

You almost reached for your phone to record a video for Jack, then immediately felt ridiculous. He had told you what to do. Keep an eye on her. Make sure she drinks water. You had given her Tylenol. And in the end… she probably just needed to sleep it off.

You stayed in the rocking chair and closed your eyes.

At some point you must have drifted off because when you opened your eyes again and glanced at your watch it was 2:02 a.m.

You blinked confused then when you heard strange sounds coming from her bed. You reached over and switched on the small lamp, then stood.

“Lizzie?”

She didn't answer. She was lying on her back now, her head turned strangely to one side. And you could hear her breath - fast, shallow… just so terribly wrong.

“Baby?”

Her cheeks were bright red and damp curls stuck to her forehead. You touched her face and immediately pulled your hand back. “Fuck, you’re burning up.”

You lifted her carefully into your arms. “Hey baby. Wake up for Mommy, huh? Can you please wake up for Mommy?”

She opened her eyes but she didn’t seem to look at you. Her gaze was unfocused, glassy. “Mama” she mumbled.

“I’m here, baby. I’m here.”

“No… daddy… Amber… cado…” Her words ran together.

You grabbed the thermometer.

104.2°F.

“Oh fuck.” Your heart started pounding. “Okay, okay. It’s okay. We’re taking care of that. Don’t worry, baby. Mommy’s taking care of you.”

Lizzie just whimpered. That’s when you noticed that her chest moved too quickly. The skin beneath her ribs pulled inward with every breath.

“Oh, fuck, what am I supposed to do?” You glanced down at your daughter, swallowing hard. Then you reached for your phone and called Jack.

It rang.

And rang.

No answer.

You called again.

Still nothing.

Lizzie started coughing against your shoulder. It was deep and wet and afterwards she started crying weakly. Your stomach tightened with fear.

You opened the chat with him - and noticed he didn’t even read the last message you sent him hours ago.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

You called Robby - and it rang until his voicemail picked up.

“FUCK.”

You looked at the bottle of Tylenol on the table.

When had you given it to her? Seven? Half past seven? Could she have more? And if so - how much? Would it make it worse? Could it harm her?

You tried to read the label but suddenly none of the words made any sense.

Lizzie made another strange sound - something between a cough and a cry, too wet, too weak, too wrong.

You looked down. Her eyes were half closed.

“Bean?”

She didn’t answer.

“Lizzie?”

Still no answer.

“Fuck.”

That was enough.

You called 911.

The emergency department was busy. A little more chaotic than usual - nothing catastrophic, but enough to prevent anyone from taking a bathroom break and to make keep Jack from catching his breath between cases.

Jack stood inside a trauma bay, watching one of the interns, Nazely, attempt to insert a central venous catheter in the internal jugular vein. 

“A little farther lateral” he said, nodding along.

She adjusted the probe, sweat building on her forehead. “Like that?”

“Yeah. There. Slow down now. You know the steps. Take a deep breath. What will make you stop?”

Her eyes returned to the ultrasound screen. “If I lose sight of the needle.”

“Exactly. You don’t advance blindly. If the anatomy stops making sense, stop and reassess. There’s no prize for being fast.”

She nodded.

“And don’t just stare at the screen. Pay attention to the patient, too.”

Across the department Lena answered the incoming ambulance call. “PTMC emergency.”

She listened, her eyes darting around the room. “Got it.” Then she looked up, finding John leaning in the doorway of the trauma bay Jack was in. “Hey John - seventeen month old female, high fever, altered mental status. Increased work of breathing, possible pneumonia. Mother accompanying.”

John looked up from the tablet in his hand, slurping another sip of his iced coffee. “Got it.”

“ETA four minutes.”

Jack glanced up. “Need help?”

“Nah” John replied. “Stay here. Just try and don’t terrify Nazely, hm?”

“I’m not terrifying anyone. You’re doing great” Jack added, giving her a smile.

John laughed and walked over to the nurses’ counter, placing his drink on the counter and grabbing a pair of gloves.

A few minutes later the ambulance door opened and paramedics entered, wheeling a gurney. “Seventeen-month-old female. Fever started this evening. Mom found her difficult to wake around two. Temperature one-oh-four point two at home. Increased respiratory effort. Oxygen saturation ninety-one on room air, improved to ninety-five on six liters via face mask.”

John looked up - and stopped dead when he saw you.

Your hair was tied into a messy bun and you were wearing an old jacket over mismatched pajamas. Your eyes were red and you looked exhausted and terrified.

Then he looked at the child on the gurney. “Oh, fuck.”

“John” you said, voice trembling, tears already filling your eyes again.

He moved immediately. “Okay, I’ve got her. Central seven is open.”

Mateo joined them. “Hey Lizzie.” 

John looked up at you. “You’re in the right place. We’ve got her.”

They wheeled her into the room. Lizzie barely reacted when they transferred her onto the hospital bed. They got to work with the effortless coordination of people who’d done this together countless times.

“Okay, Lizzie, let's get you feeling better” Mateo gave you a reassuring smile. 

You stood beside her, not exactly knowing what to do, feeling partly helpless and partly relieved that she was finally getting help.”Where’s Jack?”

John glanced toward the department, while already hovering with his stethoscope over Lizzie’s chest. “He’s somewhere around here.”

“I tried to call him” you whispered. “Twice. He didn’t answer.”

“Yeah, it’s a bit chaotic tonight.”

Lena put a hand on your shoulder, squeezing lightly. “I’ll get him, sweetheart. Don’t worry. Focus on Lizzie.”

Jack was still with Nazely when Lena approached him, Parker in tow. “Jack.”

“Mhm?” He glanced up. “Give me a second. We just need to stitch it in now.”

“Jack.” Something in her voice let him look up properly.

“Yeah?”

“I need you to hand this over to Parker.”

“What? Why?”

“Your daughter’s here.”

He stared at her, stopping mid-movement. He looked like his brain needed a minute to process it - and failed spectacularly. Nazely looked up, her eyes widened, then glanced over to the attending.

“She came in by ambulance” Lena continued.

The color drained from his face. “Why?”

“High fever. Breathing problems. John has her. Central 7”

Jack wasn’t even listening anymore. He was already walking out, yanking off his gloves and tearing off his protective gown.

He entered the room only a couple of minutes later. “Okay, fill me in.” Then his gaze dropped down at Lizzie and he stopped completely. She looked tiny on the gurney. Her face was flushed and barely visible beneath the oxygen mask. EKG leads and the blood pressure cuff attached her to the monitor while Mateo was busy putting a line into her arm. She barely flinched when the needle punctured her skin.

John was listening to her lungs.

“Bean.” His voice cracked. He moved to the bed and touched her hair with shaking hands. “Hey, baby. Don’t worry. Daddy’s here.”

She opened her eyes for a moment, then closed them again.

Then he turned to you. “What happened?”

You took a shaky breath. “I… I told you. She barely ate. She was tired and had a little fever, so I gave her Tylenol. And then I checked on her and she was burning up and babbling and breathing weirdly and I called you, but you didn’t answer and then I called Robby, but he didn’t answer either and then I panicked and I called 911 and-”

“Hey.” He reached for you and pulled you into a tight hug. “Breathe, sweetheart. Breathe. Take a nice deep breath for me, okay?”

You hiccuped and pressed yourself closer to him. You tried to calm down - you really tried - but it was nearly impossible. “I didn’t know what the right thing was” you whispered.

“You called 911, honey. That was the right thing, okay?”

You barely nodded. He stroked your hair for another moment, then pressed a kiss to your forehead and turned around to John, who put the stethoscope around his neck again.

“What do her lungs sound like?”

John glanced over to him, then held out a finger. “Give me a second, Jack.” He turned to Mateo. “Let’s get a CBC and CMP while you’re in there. Blood cultures. Send a respiratory panel and give her another dose of Tylenol - Mom gave the last one around seven thirty. Start a ten-mil-per-kilo saline bolus. Keep her on six liters oxygen and continuous pulse ox. I’ll order a portable chest X-ray asap.”

Mateo nodded. “Got it, boss.”

John watched the monitor for a moment, then turned back to Jack. “I’m hearing crackles on the right and her right lower lung sounds diminished.”

“So-”

“I suspect pneumonia.” He thought about it for a moment, then turned back to Mateo. “Once you’ve drawn the cultures start five hundred milligrams of ampicillin IV. She doesn’t have any allergies, right?” he asked you.

You shook your head. “No.”

“Five hundred?” Jack raised his eyebrows.

“Mom said she’s around twenty-two pounds” John said, crossing his arms.

“Twenty-one point seven.”

“That’s practically twenty-two pounds, Jack. And five hundred is the appropriate dose.”

Jack’s jaw tightened. “Okay.” Then he scanned her vitals. “What do you need me to do?”

“Abbot” John interrupted gently. “I’ve got her medically. Right now, I need you to be her dad, okay?”

Jack looked down at Lizzie and nodded eventually. “Okay. But-”

“No buts. If you see me making a mistake, you tell me. A mistake” he repeated, emphasizing every word. “Not a suggestion. Not something you would’ve done differently. A mistake. You understand?”

Jack swallowed hard and looked sideways. Eventually he nodded.

“Good.” John nodded. “But I think I’ve got this. We’re waiting for the imaging and then we adjust the therapy, okay?”

You squeezed Jack’s hand. He let out a sigh. “Okay.”

Mateo crouched beside the gurney. “Hey Lizzie Bear” he said softly. “Remember me?”

She barely opened her eyes. “Teo” she mumbled, barely audible behind the oxygen mask.

Mateo smiled. “Yeah. It’s Teo. I’m gonna help making you feel better, okay?”

She had already closed her eyes again. 

He began working with quiet confidence - drawing blood, swabbing her for the respiratory panel (she barely flinched which alone was enough to nearly break your heart) and administering another dose of Tylenol via the IV and then starting the saline bolus.

John typed in the orders then gave the room another look around. “Okay, that’s it for the moment. Jack - you can stay here, okay? I’ll fetch you if things go south outside.”

Jack nodded. “Thanks, man.”

John waved his hand. “Sure.” Then he left.

Mateo took the blood samples and gave you a look. “Is there anything I can get for you, mom? Water? Coffee? A blanket?”

You shook your head. “No. Thank you.”

“Okay. Just tell me, if there’s anything I can get you, okay?” Mateo smiled at you again.

“Thanks.” Your voice was quiet.

“Sure thing.” He nodded and left the room, leaving you and Jack alone with Lizzie.

Jack glanced at the monitor. “It’s getting a little better” he said quietly.

You blinked. “Yeah?”

He nodded, then pulled you closer, pressing another kiss onto your hair. “Yeah.”

The chest X-ray showed pneumonia. It wasn’t John who delivered the news. Jack had checked Lizzie’s chart about an hour later and seen the chest X-ray himself.

You glanced at him from your place on the fold-out chair beside her bed. “Are you even supposed to do that?”

“Do what, honey?” Jack asked absent-mindedly while scrolling through her lab results.

“Check her chart.”

He turned his head. “Honey, you know, I’m a doctor here, right?”

“Yeah, but still - you’re her relative.” You shrugged. “I don’t know. It feels kind of wrong?”

“Not to me.” He kept scrolling, then glanced toward the door.

When he saw John approaching, his iced coffee a constant companion, he logged himself out quickly and sat down next to you.

Lizzie was still sleeping but looking better. Her cheeks weren’t as flushed as before and her breathing had become a little calmer.

John knocked and entered the room. “Everything’s okay in here?”

You looked up and nodded. “Yeah, thanks John.”

Jack deliberately didn’t look at him. “Are her results in?”

A brief silence followed. Then - “Jack. Don’t try to bullshit me.”

Jack blinked and turned his head slightly. “What do you mean?”

“You know I can see all the people accessing my patient’s charts when I’m accessing them at the same time, right? And I was not surprised to see the name abbotja come up when I was checking her results five minutes ago.”

Jack cleared his throat. His ears had turned pink and he was trying hard to look innocent. “Well, you know how often our IT system glitches” he said with a shrug. “Happens all the time.”

“Yeah, sure. Whatever man.” John walked over, glancing at the monitor. “Her vitals are looking good. We’re switching to oxygen via nasal cannula and reducing supplementary oxygen to two liters to see if she can hold her oxygen levels with that. Her last temperature was-”

“101.1°F” Jack shot back without missing a beat. “I checked it like ten minutes ago.”

“Okay, boss.” John shook his head. “So, I’d like to keep her for a few more hours. Lets see how it’s going with the reduced oxygen and give her the next ampicillin dose at nine. If she’s doing well off oxygen by then I guess we can send her home.”

Jack nodded quickly. He reached over and squeezed your hand. “Sounds good.”

“Yeah. I’ll be surprised if you didn’t already put all these orders in” John said, rolling his eyes. “So, lets switch her to the nasal cannula and-”

Jack was already standing. “I’ll do it.”

“Whatever.” John glanced at you. “And well, we’ve got a MVC, a code stroke and a MI en route. I could really use another attending out there.”

Jack swallowed hard and glanced at you. You nodded. “Yeah, it’s your job. Go. I’ll watch her.”

He nodded. “Okay, I’ll be right there.”

John gave him a thumbs up. “Great. Thanks.” Then turned toward you. “Do you want anything? Coffee?”

You stifled a yawn. “No, thanks. I think I’ll actually try to get some sleep.”

John smiled. “Good plan. But I can almost guarantee you it won’t work. But never hurts to try.”

“That’s a great pep talk, thanks.”

John smiled, already at the door. “Always happy to help.”

By morning Lizzie’s fever had come down. Her breathing was still faster than normal but she no longer needed a lot of oxygen. Right now it was only one liter and John had decided to remove it completely after shift change. She was still sleeping, her hand wrapped around your finger.

You on the other hand hadn’t slept much exactly as John predicted. Your hair had mostly escaped your bun. Your eyes burned. You could smell yourself - and were painfully aware that you were still wearing the mismatched pajamas.

Jack came into the room after shift change - still in scrubs and looking almost as tired as you felt. “Okay, handover is done. I’m free.” He yawned then checked her monitor. “Robby should be in shortly to take her off the oxygen. If she’s fine without it at ten, then we can take her home.”

You smiled. “Sounds good.”

He then sat beside you and pressed a kiss to your temple. You made a face. “Don’t. I smell horrible and I didn’t even brush my teeth.”

Jack rolled his eyes. “Trust me, that’s the last of my concerns.” He stroked Lizzie’s hand and she stirred, letting go of your finger and grabbing his wrist. She opened her eyes briefly. “Daddy.”

He swallowed hard. “Hey, Bean.”

She smiled a little, then closed her eyes again. You took the opportunity to free yourself and stood. “Okay, I need to pee.”

Jack chuckled. “Romantic.”

“I’ve been holding it for an hour because she wouldn’t let go of my hand and I didn’t want to wake her up.”

“I’m just teasing you.” He looked up at you and smiled. “Go, I’ve got her. You can also ask Dana if we have some toiletries. We usually keep some stuff like toothbrushes, brushes and deodorant here.”

You started to smile, then leaned down and kissed his cheek. “That’s the best idea you ever had, Dr. Abbot.” You stretched and yawned, scratching your side. “Okay, I just go freshen up and then I’ll be right back.”

You stepped into the hallway, passing the nurses’ station on your way to the restrooms. Robby saw you, then walked past a group of med students huddled near the nurses’ station, just a couple of feet away, and stepped into the room, leaving the door open.

“How is she?” he asked, glancing at the monitor.

“Better” Jack said. “Waiting for her repeat labs to come back. But I think we can take her home later.”

Robby stepped to the computer, held his badge to login and started scrolling through her chart. Jack glanced at Lizzie, who was still sleeping, then stood and joined Robby.

The room fell silent.

That’s when they could hear the med students talking outside.

“That’s Dr. Abbot’s wife by the way.”

“That’s her?”

“Yeah.”

“Huh.” There was a pause. “I thought an attending’s wife would be way hotter.”

Jack slowly lifted his head and went terribly quiet. Robby had gone still too. He immediately looked over at Jack. “No.”

Jack turned his head and stared toward the open door. Robby’s eyebrow raised and he logged off the computer, turning a little.

Jack’s jaw tightened and the look in his eyes was murderous. “Who was that?”

“One of the med students” Robby said in a low, calm voice.

Jack stared at him. “What’s his name?”

“No, absolutely not.”

Jack straightened, sticking out his chest in an attempt to look more intimidating. “Michael, I asked you what his name is.”

“And I’m not telling you” Robby replied, stepping between him and the door. “Sit down.”

“No fucking way. I’m going to talk to him.”

“No, you’re not.”

“I just want to have a conversation.” Jack was still terrifyingly calm.

“No.”

Jack’s jaw tightened even more and he narrowed his eyes, staring at Robby like he wanted to murder him instead. “What do you mean - no? Why not?”

“Because I’m not letting you go out there and create a Code Hula Hoop.”

“I’m not going to assault him.” Still that calm voice.

“Wonderful. An inspiringly low standard” Robby said with no hint of amusement.

“Michael.” Jack lifted his chin. His eyes were sparkling with rage. “He insulted my wife.”

“I heard what that little douche said.”

“He insulted my wife who just spent the entire night sitting beside our sick daughter. My wife who was terrified and sick with worry - and that little asshole thinks this is the right time to judge whether she’s hot enough for me?”

“He was completely out of line for that, I agree” Robby replied.

“Then get out of my way so I can deal with that little shit” Jack snapped.

“No.”

“Michael.”

“No.”

Jack took a step to the side - Robby followed him. He tried to take a step forward - Robby blocked him.

For several seconds, neither of them moved. They were just standing very close together, glaring at each other without blinking. Jack had to hold himself back not to just push Robby to the side.

“Are you seriously blocking the fucking door?” He swallowed hard, his hands curled into fists. His voice was no longer calm but angry.

“Yes.”

“Move.”

“No.”

“Michael, I’m a fucking attending here.”

“And I’m the fucking head of this fucking department. And as your boss I’m telling you to sit down and take care of your daughter.”

Jack instantly looked toward Lizzie. She was still asleep, still looking too tiny for the bed she was lying in. His face softened for a moment. When he looked back toward the hallway where he could still hear the med students talking his face went hard again. “That asshole doesn’t get to talk about her like that. And I’ll teach him that lesson.”

“You’re right. He’s not supposed to talk about her like that. For the matter he’s not supposed to talk about any woman like that.” Robby paused for a moment. “And I’m going to make sure of that.”

Jack stared at him, narrowing his eyes. “You’re going to deal with him?”

“Yeah.”

“Properly?”

Robby raised an eyebrow. “What do you think?”

Jack stared at him for another moment, then exhaled slowly and looked to the side. Robby used that moment to place a hand against his shoulder and gently pushed him backwards until he reached the chair. “Sit.”

Jack, this time, followed this order.

Robby nodded and straightened. “I’ve got this, brother. Trust me.”

Jack nodded slowly. “‘kay.”

Robby rolled his shoulders, then cracked the knuckles on both hands. After he took a deep breath he stepped into the hallway. He looked over to the counter, smiling pleasantly. “Student doctor Morrigan.”

The student looked over. “Yes, Dr. Robinavitch?”

“Come on.”

He blinked. “I’m sorry?”

“We’re going to walk a little.”

“Um… why?” The med student was clearly uncomfortable by that suggestion.

His other students exchanged a look.

Robby didn’t answer immediately, instead glanced back through the open door where Jack was staring directly at them. “Because initially Dr. Abbot wanted to speak to you. Alone. About what you just said about his wife.”

The student went pale and glanced toward Jack with wide eyes.

“And I convinced him that would be a terrible idea. For him and you.” He paused. “So… you get the pleasure of having a nice little chat with me instead.”

“Um…” The student swallowed hard.

“Just to be clear - that wasn’t a suggestion” Robby raised an eyebrow and nodded toward the hallway. “So, let’s go.”

“Um, yes.” The student glanced at his pals, clearly looking for someone to rescue him - and when no one intervened, he walked over to Robby, stiffly, horrified.

Robby placed a hand on his shoulder, squeezing lightly. “So, let’s have a conversation about your view of women, shall we?”

They disappeared down the hallway. 

Jack watched them leave, then turned his head and stared at the remaining students. They suddenly found excuses to leave. Within seconds the space where they had huddled was empty.

Jack exhaled loudly through his nose, then returned to Lizzie.

When you came back - your hair in an actual ponytail, your teeth brushed, smelling slightly better thanks to some body wash and a washcloth and wearing a pair of scrubs, carrying your pajamas in a plastic bag - Jack was already sitting beside Lizzie’s bed again.

He looked up. “Why are you wearing scrubs?”

“Dana gave them to me. You have to return them but she said she can’t have me run around in that outfit” you replied smiling.

Lizzie was awake, sitting upright in her bed and slowly drinking apple juice from a sippy cup. When she saw you, she began to smile. “Mommy!”

You swallowed hard, already teary-eyed again. You put the plastic bag down, then sat on her bed, pulling her close, kissing her head. “Hey baby. How are you?”

“Izzie dwink.”

“Yeah, baby, I can see you’re drinking. Juice, hm? Did Mateo bring this to you?”

“No, it was Daddy” Jack said with a huff. “And I honestly thought she tried to say twink and I was already wondering to whom she was referring to.”

You chuckled, pressing another kiss onto Lizzie's head.

Jack watched you for a moment. You watched his Adam’s apple bob while he tried to compose himself - and for the first time you realized that this had been very stressful for him too. Even when he had dealt with thousands of patients with pneumonia before… it was the first time with his daughter.

He looked up and gave a crooked smile. Then, with a groan, he climbed onto the bed as well, settling on Lizzie’s other side. He slung his arm around your shoulder, pulled you closer and kissed you gently.

“Oh, wow, what’s this for?” you asked with a smile, leaning your head onto his.

“Nothing. It’s just… I love you.” 

You smiled. “I love you too.”

“No.” He pulled back a little to look at you. “I mean - I really love you, okay?”

“Um. Okay.”

“And I’m proud of you. You handled this like a champ.”

You blushed a little and shrugged, your eyes starting to burn. “I was terrified.”

“And you did exactly the right thing. You tried to call me and when you couldn’t reach me you called 911. You’re nailing this motherhood shit, honey.”

You let out a teary laugh. “Thanks.”

“No, I really mean it. You’re such a tough and independent woman.” He smiled, cuddling against you again. “And you’re also beautiful and hot and incredibly competent.”

Lizzie tipped her head back to look at Jack’s face. “Daddy!”

He pulled her towards him with his free arm. She squealed delighted.

“Watch out, Lizzie” you mumbled, smiling happily. “Daddy talks so much stuff that I’m wondering if he’s the one with fever now.”

She let out another squeal.

“Jesus” Jack muttered. “I think her oxygen level is fine again.”

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You wanna keep reading? - Next part is coming soon, I promise.

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