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Warnings: Pregnancy, mentions of labor, birth, etc. If I forgot anything, let me know. Also, if anyone knows who this gif belongs to, let me know and I will add credit!
Author's Note: I proof read this but I am exhausted between college and work so pleaseu ignore typos or mistakes. I might have made Jack OOC but I needed to get this out of my head.
By the time summer began to fade, neither of you could quite remember where it had gone. After the Fourth of July, life settled into a relentless rhythm of work schedules, nursery preparations, and endless lists that seemed to grow longer by the day. The anticipation of your baby’s arrival filled every corner of the house, leaving little room for you and your husband, Dr. Jack Abbot, to simply be husband and wife.
Much to your dismay, Jack had insisted you begin maternity leave weeks earlier than planned. The long twelve-hour shifts at PTM, once exhausting but familiar, were suddenly behind you. Trading the controlled chaos of the emergency department for quiet days at home had proven more difficult than you’d excpected. Nursing had always given your days purpose and structure. Yet every time you protested, Jack would simply smile, press a hand to your growing belly, and remind you that there was another job waiting for you now—the most important one you’d ever have: becoming a mother.
The excitement had only grown after you learned you were having a little girl. Suddenly, the spare bedroom became a nursery, shopping lists doubled in length, and every conversation seemed to drift back to the daughter you and Jack were so eager to meet.
It was late, the house wrapped in a comfortable silence. For once, Jack wasn’t working. Your due date was only a few days away, though you had a feeling your daughter had other plans. Between the occasional cramps, the relentless pressure in your lower back, and the way your daughter seemed determined to use your ribs as a jungle gym, it felt as though she might decide to make her entrance at any moment.
Jack stepped into the bedroom and immediately noticed the loon on your face. Your features were pinched with discomfort, one hand braced against the small of your back while the other rubbed slow circles over your swollen belly.
He couldn’t help but smile.
“What’s she doing now?” he asked, crossing the room and settling onto the edge of the bed.
As if she heard him, your daughter answered with a sharp kick that made you wince.
“Terrorizing me,” you muttered, shooting your stomach an accusatory look. “She’s running out of room. I swear she’s trying to claw her way out.”
A quiet laugh escaped him as he rested a hand against your belly, waiting to see if she’d offer him the same treatment. “Funny. She always seems much nicer when I’m around.”
“Because she’s already a daddy’s girl,” you sighed, settling father against the headboard.
Jack’s hand moved slowly across your belly, his touch gentle and familiar. The moment he spoke, the relentless kicks seemed to ease, as if your daughter recognized the sound of his voice.
You narrowed your eyes. “See? That’s exactly what I’m talking about.”
A smug grin tugged at the corner of his mouth.
“Smart girl.”
You rolled your eyes, though a reluctant smile followed. “She’s not even born yet and she’s already got you wrapped around her finger.”
“Can you blame me?” he asked, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead.
Another flutter ripplied beneath his palm, softer this time.
Jack’s expression immediately softened. The teasing disappeared, replaced by the quiet wonder that still crossed his face whenever he felt her moved.
“Not much longer now,” he murmured.
The room fell quiet for a moment, both of you focused on the tiny life nestled beneath his hand. Only a few days remained until you finally got to meet the little girl who had already managed to completely change your world.
You let out a breathless laugh. “Easy for you to say.”
His brows furrwoed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
You hesitated, picking at the edge of the blanket.
“A few weeks before I went on leave, there was a woman who came into the ER,” you said quietly. “She was in labor. Everything was supposed to be routine until it wasn’t.”
Jack’s expression softened immediately.
You swallowed hard. “I still remember how scared she looked. How scared her hsuband looked. Everybody was moving so fast….” Your hand instinctively tightened over your stomach. “I keep thinking about her.”
The room fell silent.
“I’m the one who has to push her out,” you muttered after a moment. “The closer it gets, the more I keep thinking about everything that can go wrong.”
The admission hung in the air between you.
Jack shifted closer, slipping an arm around your shoulders.
“Hey.”
You looked over at him.
“I know,” he said softly.
You frowned. “You do?”
“Of course I do.” His thumb brushed gently over your shoulder. “You worked in that ER for years. You’ve seen people on some of the worst days of their lives. You know better than most how quickly things can change.”
Your eyes dropped to your lap.
“But that’s exactly why you’re scared,” he continued. “You’ve seen the exceptions. The emergencies. The cases that stuck with you because they went wrong.”
He waited until you looked back at him.
“What you don’t see are the thousands of deliveries that go exactly the wya they’re supposed to.”
You were quiet.
“Every appointment you’ve had has been good. Every scan has been good. Our daughter is healthy. You’re healthy. Your OB isn’t worried.”
His hand settled over yours on your stomach.
“Believe me, if there was something to worry about, you’d know. Neither of us would be able to stop your doctors from talking about it.”
A reluctant smile flickered across your face.
“That’s true.”
“Very true.”
He leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
“I can’t promise labor will be easy,” he said. “I can’t promise it won’t hurt. But I can promise that you’re not walking into it unprepared. You’ve got a great medical team. You’ve got people who know you. And you’ve got me.”
His fingers intertwined with yours.
“I’ll be there the entire time Every contraction. Every complaint. Every time you squeeze my hand hard enough to break a bone, telling me you hate me for getting you pregnant.”
A small laugh escaped you. “And when it’s over?”
His eyes softened. “When it’s over, you’re going to be holding our little girl.”
The thought alone made your chest tighten.
Jack smiled, resting his forehead briefly agaisnt yours. “A few days from now, all of this waiting and worrying is going to be replaced by a tiny human who keeps us both awake at three in the morning.”
The time, your smile came easier.
“There she is,” he murmured, squeezing your hand. “That’s the woman I know.”
You leaned against him, letting your head rest on his shoulder.
For the first time all day, the knot of anxiety in your chest loosened just a little.
Jack’s hand drifted lazily over your belly, his thumb tracing small circles against the fabric of your night gown. Beneath his touch, your daughter gave a gentle kick, as if reminding you both she was still there.
“You need some sleep.” he said softly.
You wanted to argue, but the exhaustion sitting heavy in your bones made it difficult. Between the constant discomfort, the endless trips to the bathroom, and your mind’s refusal to stop worrying, a full night’s sleep had become a distant memory.
“I’m not that tired,” you mumbled.
Jack raised an eyebrow.
The look alone made you huff.
“Okay, maybe a little.”
“A little?” he repeated, amused.
You rolled your eyes.
Without another word, he helped adjust the mountain of pillows that had somehow become necessary for sleeping. Once he was satisfied, he patted the mattress beside him.
“Lay down,” he instructed gently. “Get comfortable.”
You shifted with a groan, settling onto your side as carefully as your very pregnant body would allow. The moment your head touched the pillow, you realized just how exhausted you truly were.
“There we go,”, Jack murmured.
His hand found your stomach again, rubbing smooth circles over the curve of your belly.
The room was quiet except for the ceiling fan.
“You know,” he said quietly, “ a few days from now, we’re probably going to wish we could get this much sleep.”
A sleepy laugh escaped you. “Speak for yourself.”
His chest rumbled with a soft chuckle.
You snuggled closer, your eyes already growing heavy.
“I love you,” he murmured.
Jack pressed a kiss into your hair.
“I love you too.”
With his hand still resting protectively over you and your daughter, it didn’t take long before sleep finally began to pull you under.
You weren’t sure how long it had taken you to fall asleep, or when Jack had finally drifted off beside you. At some point during the night, the two of you had shifted beneath the blankets, settling into the unconscious search for comfort that came with sleep.
A sudden wet sensation jolted you awake.
Your eyes flew open.
For a moment, you lay perfectly still, disoriented by the darkness and lingering haze of sleep.
Then you felt it again.
Your heart immediately began to race.
“Jack.”
Your voice came out barely above a whisper.
Beside you, he stirred.
“Jack.”
This time it was sharper.
He sat up almost instantly, years of being in the army and being an ER doctor made him a light sleeper.
“What is it, baby? What’s wrong?”
You pushed yourself upright, staring down at the damp sheets beneath you.
“I think….” You swallowed. “I think my water just broke.”
For a second, neither of you moved.
“Are you sure?”
“I don’t know,” you admitted, suddenly nervous. “I was asleep then I woke up because everything felt wet.”
The baby shifted inside you, earning a hand pressed instinctively against your stomach.
Jack reached over and switched on the bedside lamp, bathing the room in a soft golden glow.
Your eyes met.
The reality of it hit both of you at the same time.
This was it.
The waiting was over.
Your daughter was on her way.
He glanced down at the soaked sheets before looking back at you. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “Your water broke.”
For a moment, neither of you moved.
The words seemed to settle over the room.
Your water broke.
It was such a simple sentence, yet it changed everything.
Your hand drifted to your stomach as your heart began to pound.
“No, no, no…” you whispered.
Jack's eyebrows shot up. “No?”
You shook your head, tears unexpectedly burning behind your eyes.
“We're not ready.”
A soft smile tugged at his lips as he reached for your hand. “The nursery's done.”
“I know.”
“The car seat's installed.”
“I know.”
“The hospital bag has been sitting by the front door for three weeks."
Despite everything, a small laugh escaped you.
“I know.”
His thumb brushed across your knuckles. “We're ready.”
You swallowed hard.
A few hours ago, you'd been lying awake worrying about labor and everything that could go wrong. Now the moment was here, and somehow that felt even more overwhelming.
Jack seemed to understand.
He moved closer, cupping your face gently. “Hey,”he said softly. "Look at me."
You did.
His eyes were warm, steady, and reassuring.
“You've carried her for nine months. You've taken care of her every single day. You've done everything right.”
A tear slipped down your cheek.
“You can do this.”
Your lower lip trembled. “What if I can’t?”
His expression immediately softened. “Then I'll remind you that you can.”
Another tear followed the first.
Jack brushed it away with his thumb.
“You're not doing this alone," he said. "Not for a second. I'm going to be right there with you.”
You let out a shaky breath. “You promise?”
“I promise.”
For a moment, neither of you spoke.
The baby shifted beneath your hand, earning a small laugh through your tears.
“Apparently she's ready,” you murmured.
Jack glanced down at your belly and smiled before placing his hand over yours. “Yeah.”
His smile grew softer. “I think she's tired of hearing us talk about her.”
That earned another laugh.
The tension in your chest eased enough for you to breathe again.
“Okay,” you said quietly.
“Okay?”
You nodded. “Okay.”
Jack stood and immediately slipped into doctor mode—not panicked, just focused.
“Let's get you changed out of those wet clothes.”
You watched him move around the room, grabbing your hospital bag from the corner and double-checking things that had already been checked a dozen times.
The sight made your chest ache in the best way.
This was really happening.
In a matter of hours, it wouldn't just be the two of you anymore.
Jack caught you watching him.
“What?”
You smiled. “Nothing.”
His eyes narrowed. “What?”
Your gaze drifted to your stomach before returning to him. “We're going to meet our daughter.”
The words stopped him in his tracks.
For the first time since waking up, his composure cracked.
Emotion flashed across his face, quick but unmistakable.
“Yeah,” he said softly.
He crossed the room, leaned down, and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Yeah, we are.”
And suddenly, for the first time that night, the nerves were accompanied by something stronger.
Excitement.
The next few minutes passed in a blur.
One minute you were sitting on the edge of the bed trying to process the fact that your water had broken, and the next Jack was helping you change into dry clothes while reminding you not to rush.
"Slow down," he said for what felt like the tenth time.
You shot him a look.
"Easy for you to say."
“I’m not the one trying to sprint to the front door nine months pregnant."
“I am not sprinting."
Jack raised an eyebrow.
You ignored him.
A few minutes later, hospital bag in hand, you found yourself standing in the hallway.
The house was quiet.
Still.
For some reason, your feet refused to move.
Jack noticed immediately.
"What's wrong?"
You glanced down the hall. The nursery door was cracked open.
Without a word, you made your way toward it.
Jack followed.
The room was dark except for the soft glow of the nightlight plugged into the wall. Everything was waiting.
The crib. The rocking chair. The stack of books on the shelf. The tiny clothes folded neatly in the dresser.
For months, this room had represented the future.
Now it felt impossibly close.
Your throat tightened.
"The next time we're in here..." you began.
Jack's arm slipped around your waist.
You looked up at him.
"The next time we're in here," he finished softly, "she'll be with us."
Tears immediately filled your eyes.
"Oh, great," you muttered, wiping at them. "Now I'm crying."
"You've got a pretty good excuse."
You laughed weakly.
Jack leaned down and pressed a kiss against your temple. “Ready?”
You took one last look around the room.
The empty crib. The stuffed rabbit sitting patiently in the rocking chair. The blanket folded over the side.
Everything waiting for her.
For your daughter.
A deep breath filled your lungs.
This time when you nodded, you meant it. “Ready.”
The drive to the hospital was strangely quiet.
Not uncomfortable. Just quiet.
The roads were mostly empty at this hour, streetlights casting long stretches of gold across the windshield. You sat with one hand resting on your stomach and the other wrapped around a bottle of water Jack had insisted you bring.
Every few minutes he glanced over. "You okay?"
You nodded.
Three minutes later:
"You okay?"
Another nod.
A minute later:
"Jack."
"What?"
“You asked me that already.”
His fingers tightened slightly on the steering wheel. "Sorry."
The admission made you smile. "You nervous?"
He laughed softly. "A little."
"A little?"
"Okay, a lot."
That earned a genuine laugh.
"You're an ER doctor."
"Yeah."
"You deal with emergencies every day."
“Yeah."
You watched him for a moment.
“You seem scared.”
His eyes stayed fixed on the road.
"I wouldn't say scared."
You waited.
After a few seconds, he sighed. "We're about to have a daughter."
The words settled warmly in your chest.
His voice softened. "I've wanted this for a long time."
You turned to look at him.
For a moment, he was quiet.
"When I was younger, I always assumed I'd have kids someday." A small smile crossed his face. "I thought there'd be plenty of time."
You knew exactly what he meant.
Life hadn't turned out the way he'd expected.
His late wife had gotten sick, and somewhere between hospital rooms, treatments, and trying to hold everything together, the future he'd imagined had slowly slipped away.
"I stopped thinking about it after a while," he admitted. "Or at least I told myself I did."
Your chest tightened.
Jack glanced over at you before returning his attention to the road. "Then you came along."
A tear immediately burned at the corner of your eye.
His smile grew. "And now here I am, in my fifties, driving to the hospital in the middle of the night because my wife is about to have our daughter."
Emotion thickened his voice just slightly. "I don't think I've ever been happier to be scared."
Your eyes stung.
Jack reached over and found your hand.
"I've wanted to meet her for months," he said softly. "I've imagined what she'll look like. Whether she'll have your eyes or my nose. Whether she'll hate my music and think I'm embarrassing."
You laughed through the tears threatening to spill."She definitely will."
"Yeah, probably."
His thumb brushed across your knuckles.“I just want you both okay.”
You squeezed his fingers. "We will be."
For the first time since leaving the house, some of the tension in his shoulders seemed to ease.
A contraction rolled through your abdomen then. Not terrible. Just stronger than the ones before.
You sucked in a sharp breath.
Jack's head snapped toward you. “You okay?”
You laughed despite yourself.
"There it is."
"What?"
"The doctor."
"I'm serious."
"I know."
The contraction faded. You settled back against the seat.
A few minutes later, the familiar outline of PTMC came into view against the night sky.
Your heart skipped. This was it.
After months of waiting, worrying, planning, and dreaming—you were finally about to meet your daughter.
The moment Jack pulled into the hospital parking lot, everything suddenly felt real.
Not nursery-real.
Not baby-shower-real.
Not "we should probably finish packing the hospital bag" real.
Real.
You stared up at the familiar building as Jack parked the car.
For years, PTMC had simply been where you worked. Tonight, it was where your daughter would be born.
"You okay?" Jack asked quietly.
You nodded.
Then immediately shook your head. "I don't know."
A soft smile touched his lips. "That's probably the most honest answer you've given all night."
Before you could respond, another contraction tightened across your abdomen. Stronger this time.
You closed your eyes and breathed through it.
When it finally passed, Jack was already out of the car and opening your door.
The cool night air hit your face as he helped you out.
"You know," you muttered as you slowly straightened, "I used to walk into this place for twelve-hour shifts without a second thought."
“And?”
You looked up at the building. "I'm terrified."
Jack immediately slipped an arm around your shoulders."You’re not doing this alone, baby.”
Easy for him to say.
Still, you leaned into him as the two of you made your way toward the entrance.
The automatic doors slid open.
Within seconds, a familiar voice rang out.
"No way."
You froze.
Jack groaned.
A nurse from the emergency department looked up from the nurses' station and immediately pointed.
"Oh my God. It's happening."
Within seconds, it seemed like half the department had noticed.
The news spread fast.
A few nurses hurried over.
One of them immediately wrapped you in a careful hug.
"Look at you!"
Another glanced at your stomach.
"Finally. We were starting to think she'd never come out."
You laughed.
Jack sighed dramatically. “This is exactly why I wanted to sneak in.”
"You work here," one of the nurses said. "What did you think was going to happen?"
"You work here too," another added, pointing at you.
That only made everyone laugh harder.
A contraction interrupted before you could answer. Your smile vanished. You grabbed Jack's arm.
Instantly, the teasing stopped.
His hand settled against your back."Okay?"
You nodded through clenched teeth.
A familiar nurse's voice spoke up. "She's definitely in labor."
"No kidding," Jack deadpanned.
The contraction passed.
You let out a shaky breath.
The group immediately shifted from coworkers to professionals.
Within minutes, someone had called Labor and Delivery. Someone from transport appeared with a wheelchair despite your insistence that you could walk.
"Absolutely not," the nurse said.
"I can walk."
"Sure you can."
"I can."
The nurse pointed at your stomach.
"You are carrying an entire human."
You opened your mouth to protest. Then closed it. “Fine.”
"Smart woman." Jack looked entirely too pleased with that outcome.
A few minutes later, the elevator doors opened onto Labor and Delivery.
The atmosphere was completely different from the emergency department.
Quieter. Softer. Anticipatory.
You were guided into a labor room while nurses introduced themselves and began asking questions you'd answered a hundred times before.
Name. Date of birth. How far apart were the contractions? When had your water broken?
Through it all, Jack stayed beside you. Never more than a few feet away.
Eventually the room settled. The monitors were in place. The paperwork was done. The nurses stepped out to give you both a moment.
For the first time since arriving, silence returned. You looked around the room.
The hospital bed. The clear bassinet tucked beside the wall. The tiny pink hat folded neatly on a nearby counter with the white blanket.
Your breath caught. Jack followed your gaze. Neither of you said anything for a moment.
Then quietly: “That's for her.”
You nodded. A lump formed in your throat.
In a few hours—or maybe less—that bassinet wouldn't be empty anymore.
Your daughter would be here.
Jack pulled a chair closer and sat beside the bed.
Without a word, he took your hand.
The monitor continued its steady rhythm beside you. For a while, neither of you spoke.
You simply sat there together, listening to the sounds of the floor and feeling the weight of everything that was about to change.
Finally, you looked at him. "Nervous?"
Jack let out a small laugh. "Terrified."
You smiled. "Good."
"Good?"
"If I'm scared, you should be too.”
That earned a genuine laugh. The kind that eased some of the tension sitting between you.
Then his expression softened. He lifted your hand and pressed a kiss against your knuckles. A simple gesture.
But one that said everything.
No matter what happened next, you wouldn't face it alone.
The room remained quiet for awhile. The steady beep of the monitor filled the space as Jack sat beside you, his thumb lazily brushing over the back of your hand. You were just beginning to relax when another contraction hit.
This one made you suck in a sharp breath.
Jack immediately straightened. "That one's stronger."
You nodded. “Yeah, a lot stronger.”
The contraction lingered longer than the others had. By the time it eased, you felt slightly breathless.
A knock sounded at the door before one of the Labor and Delivery nurses stepped back inside."How are we doing in here?"
You glanced at Jack. "Tired."
The nurse laughed knowingly.
"Well, unfortunately, I can't fix that part."
She checked the monitor before looking back at you. "Dr. Myers is on the way, but I'd like to see where we're starting if that's okay."
You knew exactly what she meant. A cervical check.
You nodded. "Okay."
A few minutes later, the nurse finished and stepped back.
"Well."
The single word immediately made your stomach drop.
Jack noticed. "What?"
The nurse smiled. It's not bad."
You stared at her. "That's not exactly reassuring."
She laughed. “You're four centimeters and completely effaced.”
You blinked. "Really?"
"Really."
Jack's eyebrows lifted.
For someone who spent his days around medical emergencies, he suddenly looked remarkably proud.
"See?" he said. "You've already done part of the work."
You rolled your eyes. "I hate when you sound optimistic."
"Good thing you married me anyway."
The nurse grinned. “I’ll let you two argue about that.”
After she left, Jack settled back into his chair. "You okay?"
You nodded. For now, you were. Still nervous. Still uncomfortable. But okay.
The reality was finally beginning to sink in. This wasn't a false alarm. You weren't getting sent home. You were having a baby.
Another contraction interrupted the thought.
You squeezed Jack's hand.
Hard.
His eyes widened slightly. "Wow."
"Don't."
"I'm just saying."
"Jack."
He immediately held up his free hand. "Not another word."
The contraction faded.
You leaned back against the pillows and closed your eyes. Exhaustion still clung to you.
It was sometime in the middle of the night—or maybe early morning by now. You weren't entirely sure.
Time felt strange. Minutes stretched. Hours disappeared.
At some point, Jack convinced you to drink water.
Then he convinced you to eat a few crackers.
Then he convinced you to stop apologizing every time you squeezed circulation out of his fingers.
“You know," he said, adjusting the blanket over your legs, "most husbands don't get to watch their wives work this hard."
You opened one eye. "Most husbands are the reason their wives are working this hard."
A laugh burst out of him. A soft smile crossed his face.
"There's my girl."
Another contraction arrived before you could enjoy the victory. This one was different. Your breath caught.
The pressure was stronger. Sharper. You instinctively curled forward.
Jack was immediately on his feet. "Hey."
His hand found yours before you even reached for it. You gripped his fingers tightly as the contraction rolled through you. And kept rolling.
Longer than the others. Stronger.
Your breathing faltered. You squeezed your eyes shut.
Jack stayed close, one hand wrapped around yours while the other rubbed slow circles against your back. "That's it," he murmured softly. "I've got you."
You nodded, unable to speak. The pressure continued to build.
For a moment, frustration and exhaustion crashed into you all at once. Tears slipped free before you could stop them.
Immediately, Jack leaned closer. "Hey, hey."
His voice was gentle. "So good, sweetheart. You're doing so good."
You shook your head weakly. "It hurts." The words came out smaller than you intended.
His expression broke your heart a little. Not because he looked scared. Because he looked helpless. Like if he could take every ounce of pain from you himself, he would do it without hesitation.
"I know," he said quietly.
He brushed a tear from your cheek. “I know.”
The contraction finally began to ease.
You sagged back against the pillows, exhausted. Jack didn't let go of your hand.
Instead, he lifted it and pressed a kiss against your knuckles. A simple gesture. One he'd done a thousand times before. But somehow it felt different now.
More emotional. More meaningful.
Because in a matter of hours, the two of you wouldn't just be husband and wife anymore. You'd be parents.
“Ow.” The sound escaped before you could stop it.
Jack's expression changed instantly. That single word had sounded different. Like something had shifted.
The nurse must have noticed too because she appeared a few moments later.
“Talk to us, baby,” Jack breathed. “tell us what’s going on.”
You took a breath. "They're stronger. They hurt so bad.”
The nurse nodded. "Let's take another look."
Jack remained beside you while the nurse prepared for another exam. You tried to focus on your breathing, but your heart was already racing. The contractions had changed.
You could feel it. Everything felt different now.
The nurse checked your progress while you stared at the ceiling, waiting for some kind of answer.
At first, she didn’t say anything. Then her eyebrows lifted slightly.
"Well."
Your stomach immediately dropped.
Jack leaned forward. "What?"
The nurse finished and pulled away, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.
"That explains why things are feeling more intense."
You looked at her expectantly. "How far am I?”
She glanced between you and Jack. "Take a guess."
You groaned. "Please don't make me guess."
The nurse laughed. "Fair enough."
Your heart pounded.
"You're six centimeters."
For a second, you were convinced you'd heard her wrong. “What?”
"Six centimeters."
You blinked.
"Six?"
"Six." she confirmed.
Jack looked just as surprised. "Already?"
The nurse nodded. "Already."
You stared at the wall for a moment, trying to process it.
Just a little while ago you'd been four centimeters. Now you were six.
Labor wasn't just happening anymore. It was moving. Fast.
A strange mixture of excitement and panic flooded your chest. Six centimeters. You were more than halfway there.
Another contraction began building low in your abdomen, and suddenly the number felt very real. You gripped Jack's hand as it intensified.
He immediately squeezed back. “You're doing great,” he said quietly.
You laughed breathlessly. "I don't feel like I'm doing great."
"Trust me.” he smiled. “You are.”
The contraction finally eased. The nurse adjusted the monitor before looking at both of you.
"My guess?" she said. "You're going to be meeting your daughter sooner rather than later."
The words settled over the room. Neither of you spoke right away. The nurse gave you both a knowing smile before stepping out to update the rest of the team.
As soon as the door closed, silence filled the room again. Your eyes found Jack's. His found yours. For a long moment, neither of you seemed capable of saying anything.
Because suddenly this wasn't some distant event waiting somewhere in the future. It wasn't a countdown on an app. It wasn't another doctor's appointment. It was happening. It was now. Your daughter was on her way.
Jack let out a slow breath and shook his head slightly, almost like he couldn't quite believe it.
"Six centimeters," he murmured.
You nodded. "Six centimeters."
A smile slowly spread across his face. The kind that was equal parts joy, disbelief, and awe. And for the first time all night, neither of you looked nervous. Just a mix of excited and overwhelmed.
The contractions became stronger. Closer together. Sleep became impossible.
At some point the nurses dimmed the lights. At another point, someone convinced you to drink water. Then came another contraction. And another And another.
By early morning, you had completely lost track of time. Another contraction began building, each one becoming more relentless than the previous. The nurse was in and out. So many times that you had lost count.
You gripped Jack's hand and focused on your breathing. The monitor beside the bed continued its steady rhythm.
Then suddenly—A different sound. A sharp beep. The nurse's attention immediately shifted toward the screen.
Your stomach dropped.
Jack noticed it too."What is it?"
The nurse didn't answer right away. Instead, she stepped closer to the monitor. The silence was enough. Every terrible thought you'd spent weeks trying to ignore came rushing back.
The woman from the ER. The fear in her husband's eyes. The way everyone had started moving faster.
Your heart immediately began to race. "What's wrong?" you asked.
The nurse looked over. “Nothing's wrong.”
But she was still watching the screen. Which wasn't exactly comforting.
A second nurse appeared in the doorway. Then a third. Not rushing. Not panicked. Just…there. The sight made your pulse spike anyway.
Jack's hand tightened around yours. “Is she okay? Is our daughter okay?”
Things were a lot easier when it wasn’t happening to you. In the ER, you both could remove yourselves from the situation. It wasn’t personal.
The nurse glanced between you both. "Her heart rate dipped a little during that contraction."
Your entire body went cold.
The nurse immediately continued. "Which can happen."
You stared at her. "Can happen?"
She nodded. "Sometimes labor puts temporary stress on the baby. We watch for it.”
The monitor continued to beep. A few seconds felt like a lifetime.
Then one of the nurses smiled. "There she goes."
Everyone's attention shifted back to the screen. The atmosphere in the room changed instantly. The tension evaporated.
The first nurse looked back at you. "See? She's recovering beautifully."
You let out a shaky breath you hadn't realized you'd been holding.
Beside you, Jack did the exact same thing. He lifted your hand to his mouth to place a soft, reassuring kiss.
The nurse pointed gently toward the monitor. "Strong heartbeat. Strong recovery. She's doing exactly what we want her to do."
Your eyes immediately filled with tears. Not because something was wrong. Because for a few terrifying seconds, you'd thought it might be.
Jack leaned down and pressed a kiss against your forehead. "She's okay."
You nodded. "She's okay."
You were trying to convince yourself.
The nurse smiled. “She's already keeping all of us on our toes."
That earned a watery laugh from you. “Sounds like my daughter.”
"Definitely our daughter," Jack agreed.
The scare passed, but it left both of you quieter afterward. Every kick. Every heartbeat on the monitor. Every contraction. You noticed all of it.
As the hours passed, exhaustion had settled deep into your bones. Another cervical check. Then another.
Until finally—"Nine and a half."
You stared. “What?"
The nurse laughed. "Nine and a half centimeters."
Jack blinked. "Seriously?"
He thought he might be hearing things or hallucinating…..maybe he needed his morning coffee. He wasn't a morning person after all.
"Seriously."
For the first time all day, the finish line felt real.
Not long after, the pressure changed. Heavier. Stronger.
The nurses noticed immediately.
One of them stepped back into the room and took a look at your face. "Feeling pressure?"
You nodded. "A lot of pressure."
The nurse smiled knowingly. "That's what I thought."
Jack straightened beside you.
You pointed at him.
"Don't."
“I didn't say anything."
"You were about to."
His mouth twitched. “I was not.”
The nurse laughed. "You two are adorable."
You groaned before rolling your eyes and crossing your arms. “I’ve been in labor for twelve hours. I'm not adorable.”
Jack immediately shook his head. “For the record, you're still beautiful."
You stared at him. "Jack."
"I'm serious."
"I look like I've been hit by a truck."
"You look like the woman who's bringing my baby girl into the world."
The softness in his voice made your chest tighten. His thumb brushed across your hand. "And I think you're beautiful."
Heat crept into your cheeks despite everything. “You are unbelievably biased."
"Absolutely."
A little while later, the nurse checked again. You were getting more irritable each time. Jack could tell, giving your hand a gentle but reassuring squeeze. But then the nurse smiled.
"You're complete."
Ten centimeters. You were finally ready.
And before you knew it, the room became busier. Purposeful. Nurses brought in an infant warmer along with a tray full of tools. They were intimidating to see when you were the one about to give birth.
Your OB, Dr. Myers arrived.
Equipment was checked. The bassinet was moved closer. And before long, it was time.
Time became strange after that. Minutes blurred together. Contractions. Pushing. Breathing. Jack's voice.
The encouragement from the nurses. The pressure. The exhaustion. Part of you wanted everything to stop. But you knew you had to do this.
Every time you opened your eyes, Jack was there. Every single time.
At one point, your forehead rested against his. "I can't."
His eyes immediately met yours."Yes, you can."
"I'm serious, Jack.”
“So am I. You’re so close,” he breathed before kissing your damp forehead. “You’re almost done, baby. You’ve done so good.”
A tear slipped down your cheek. Frustration and exhaustion coming to a head. "I'm tired."
His expression softened. "I know."
His thumb brushed the tear away. "I know, sweetheart."
Then he smiled. The kind of smile that made your heart ache. "She's almost here."
The words settled over you. Your daughter. A real baby girl. A little girl who would call him Dad. A little girl who would call you Mom. Emotion tightened your throat.
For all the years he'd spent convincing himself fatherhood wasn't going to happen...He was only moments away from holding his daughter.
The nurse glanced toward. Dr. Myers. Then back at you.
"One more good push."
The next contraction built quickly. You pushed.
The room erupted with encouragement.
Then suddenly—
"Oh,” Dr. Myers smiled. "Look at that."
“What?” you breathed.
Jack had already looked. His expression changed instantly. Wonder. Pure wonder.
"Oh my God." Emotion cracked his voice.
"What?" you asked louder this time.
The nurse laughed. "She has a lot of hair."
A surprised laugh escaped you. Another push. Another breath. Another.
Then—Relief.
The pressure vanished. And a sound filled the room. Small. Sharp. Beautiful.
A cry. Your daughter's cry.
Everything stopped.
For one perfect second, the world stood still.
The tiny cries filled the room.
Your eyes immediately flooded with tears. "Oh my God."
Jack wasn't any better. He never cried. But today, he did. Tears streamed down his face as he stared at the tiny baby being lifted into the world.
For years he had dreamed about this. Wondered if it would ever happen. And now she was here.
Real. Healthy. Perfect.
A laugh broke through his tears. "That's our girl."
A few moments later, they carefully placed her on your chest. She was crying, obviously shaken up by her transition into the bright, loud world. No longer in her mommy’s warm, safe womb. Warm. Tiny.Perfect. The instant she touched you, everything else disappeared.
There was only her. Your daughter. One impossibly small hand stretched outward. Tiny fingers. Tiny fingernails. Tiny everything.
You stared. Completely overwhelmed. Nine months. Nine months of carrying her. Wondering about her. Dreaming about her.
And now she was here.
"Hi, baby girl,” you whispered.
Jack moved closer. His hand shook slightly as he reached out and touched her back.
Just one finger. Almost like he couldn't believe she was real.
Your eyes lifted to him.
Every dream he'd ever had of becoming a father was written across his face.
"She's beautiful," he whispered. “Just like her mother.”
The little girl shifted against your chest, letting out a tiny sound.
Jack laughed softly through his tears. "She definitely has your eyes.”
You smiled. “And daddy’s nose.”
A nurse smiled from across the room. “Have you decided on a name yet?"
You and Jack exchanged a look. The answer had been decided months ago. Still, saying it out loud suddenly felt monumental. Real.
You looked down at the tiny girl resting against your chest.
A smile touched your lips. "Lainey."
Jack's eyes immediately softened.
"Lainey Abbot,” he repeated. “My beautiful baby girl.”
The name sounded different now.
Not a name on nursery decorations. Not a name whispered during late-night conversations. It belonged to someone. It belonged to her.
You looked down at your daughter. At Lainey.
Jack leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss against her forehead. Then another against yours. His hand settled over both of you. His girls.
A quiet, emotional laugh escaped him. "Welcome to the world, Lainey."
And for the first time since she arrived, your daughter opened her eyes. As if she was saying hello right back.
DESCRIPTION: At your cousin's baby shower, you're bringing a partner to meet your family for the first time. It turns out Jack Abbot is the perfect person to bring.
WORD COUNT: 3k
WARNINGS: FLUFF. TOOTH ROTTING FLUFF. Age gap- not specified but big enough to be noticed. Established!relationship. Reader's family is slightly judgy at first. Jack Abbot gets baby fever. Talks of potential kids (though unlikely). Talk of marriage.
READ ON AO3! - MASTERLIST
It was an early morning. They had a long drive ahead of them to their first extended family function of Y/n’s. Jack buttoned up his polo shirt and did that little head tilt he did when he wanted clarification on something. His upper lip curled.
“Whose baby shower are we going to again?
She chuckled as she pulled up the straps on her little blue spring dress. Ornate flowers ran up and down the fabric. She had researched what to wear to a baby shower and figured this was nice enough without overshadowing the mother-to-be.
“My cousin Sandra, remember?”
His brows furrowed, “Are we… close to this cousin?”
She blushed at that. ‘We’. ‘We’ as in her family was his, and his was hers. Granted, he didn’t have much family left these days. But she appreciated him including himself. They had been dating for a little over a year now, and while he had met her parents, he hadn’t met any of her extended family.
“Not really, but I still wanna support her. Can you zip up my dress, dear?”
He chuckled a little to himself as he strutted over. His fingers hung on the zipper for a moment.
“I much prefer to zip it down.”
She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, smart ass. We don’t have the time for that.”
“You’re underestimating how quick I can be.” He murmured but obediently zipped her up. He patted her hips, looking up at their reflection in the mirror that hung on her closet. “You look beautiful.”
Her face fully reddened, and she shook her head gently, “You’re crazy.”
His face contorted as if she had just said something so incredibly offensive. His hands glided from her hips to across her stomach, so she was more in a bear hug as he leaned his head against her shoulder.
“I’m not at all. I’m saying the truth.”
She gave him a pity chuckle and looked down at the floor. He turned to look at her now, not in the reflection. And his real-life gaze was much more intense.
“Hey… what’s got my pretty girl all like this?”
With a little scoff, she waved it off, trying to seem nonchalant.
“I’m fine. It’s just my cousins will all be there, and they’re… literally models. I mean it. Like one of them is as a profession. And they always bring their boyfriends, so this is the first year that I’m…”
“Bringing someone.” He slowly nodded. “Is there anything I should know, baby?”
She shook her head, “Just that they may be a bit judgy because of the… you know…” she put her face in her hands, worried to admit this.
“The age gap.” He chuckled, “Baby, I already expected this. And when it comes to your cousins being models, who cares? You’re so beautiful. Comparing apples to oranges.”
He planted a kiss on the crook of her neck and squeezed her hips reassuringly.
Walking up to the little blue house, Jack held the big gift bag, which carried a quilted play mat, and he held her shaky hand with his free one. The door was wide open, so they peeked their heads inside. The sound of chattering and laughter drifted from the backyard. Inside was covered in lacy, frilly decor. It looked as though the baby section of the department store had exploded. With blue bears everywhere, it was safe to say that it was going to be a boy.
At the sound of Jack shutting the door, Sandra walked through the kitchen holding her swollen stomach. Her eyes lit up.
“Y/N! My goodness, it’s been ages. You look fantastic!”
“I can say the same to you! Congratulations.”
Jack held up the present, “Where can I put this?”
Sandra’s attention drifted, and her mouth stayed ajar as she processed for a moment. She suddenly seemed to remember that it was rude to stare at the handsome older man in front of her.
“Oh- just on the dining table.” She made up for it with a smile.
Jack nodded with an awkward no-teeth smile and shifted through the entryway to place the gift on the table overflowing with tissue-papered presents. Sandra watched him, then looked over to her with wide eyes. She mouthed a quick ‘wow’ before going,
“Is this your…?”
She smiled proudly as Jack started making his way back over. “Boyfriend. Yes. This is my boyfriend, Dr. Jack Abbot.”
He chuckled and scratched his neck as he reunited with her side.
“Quick braggin, sweetheart.” He put his hand out to Sandra, “Hi. Congratulations.”
Her cousin shook it and looked between the two.
“A doctor! Wow, Jesus. Grandma’s gonna love him, huh?”
And in that moment, she realized that this wasn’t going to be bad at all. This was actually going to be so completely and utterly perfect. For the first time in her entire life, she was going to prove that she was just as beautiful and capable of having a perfect boyfriend as her cousins and relatives.
After some awkward introductions, Jack felt stiffer than usual. He tried his usual charisma, and it worked for the most part. Her grandma certainly was all over him. But there were a few weirded-out glares and stiff conversations from her older cousins and relatives. They all certainly fit her description. They had a ‘better than you’ air around them that would suffocate Y/n’s welcome until he showed up behind her like a guard dog. Then it would completely dissipate when he’d introduce himself and tell them he was a doctor. They were then left with an overall feeling of suspicious approval.
As he sipped a beer, he sat with some of her uncles who were closer in his age range, though still older than him. He managed to win them over a little more by discussing his military service. Though he refused to reveal his leg. It wasn’t that he felt embarrassed by it. But the attention was already heavily on him, and he’d rather not take any more of it. Though as they sat in the heat, he was starting to regret the choice of khaki pants.
The other men talked about the football season starting up in September, and Jack didn’t have much to contribute to the conversation. So instead of trying to pretend he cared, he let his eyes drift over to his girl sitting on a patio chair. She had been dragged by her youngest cousins to go play with them across the yard. He watched as she held a one-year-old girl in her lap while talking to a little boy who couldn’t be more than nine. She was a clear favorite, considering the kids didn’t seem to bother any of her other cousins, who were much too busy with their own boyfriends. Her eyes sparkled as she smiled and laughed at the boy describing a scribbled drawing to her, the construction paper crinkled. It was as if she was genuinely interested in whatever nonsense he was probably spouting.
His heart clenched. It had to be the baby shower theme. It had to be the decorations and the ultrasound pictures and the constant talk from the women in her family. But seeing her with the kids was making him feel something dangerous. He knew he couldn’t have kids. Not at 50. But Jesus, did the sight of her brushing that little girl's hair through her fingers make him want to change his mind.
Suddenly, she pointed at him, clearly distinguishing him to the kids in front of her. They were talking about him. He broke out of his thoughts and pointed to himself with raised brows. She laughed and waved him over to the other side. Part of him felt guilty for not excusing himself, but he wasn’t about to ignore this for some stupid talk about ESPN hosts.
He walked over and crossed his arms with a playful arch of his brow.
“My ears were burning. Now who’s talking about me?”
The little boy grinned and pointed to Y/n. “She was!”
She gasped, “Jax! You asked who he was. You can’t throw me under the bus.”
“Well, who am I then, Jaxon?” Jack asked lightly
He shrugged and knelt down by the patio table. He put his paper down and returned to a set of sprawled-out crayons.
“An old guy.” He said innocently
Ouch.
She lightly smacked Jaxon’s shoulder, “Hey. Be nice.”
The kid smirked, and the little girl on her lap gurgled a laugh. Suddenly, another little girl appeared. She had been slowly making her way over, wringing her hands in her dress. It was clear she wanted to be with her cousin, but was also hesitant about the older man there. Y/n waved her over.
“Hi, Janie.” She said in a much softer voice. A much different voice than she had with Jaxon.
“Hi.”
“Let me do introductions.” She said, looking between everyone, “This is Jaxon, Janie, and their little sister Judy.”
Jack smiled, “A lot of J names around her.”
Janie nodded and looked down at the floor. Jack decided the best course of action was to squat down and sit by the patio table as well. Though his good knee let out a slight crack as he did so. Janie looked at him, suspicious, but didn’t run away.
“Well… It’s nice to meet you guys. I’m Jack.”
Jaxon looked up from his paper with wide eyes, “YOU HAVE A J NAME TOO.”
“That’s right.” He nodded and snuck a look at the Transformer that the boy was drawing, “Look, I’m new here. So how about we make a J name pact?”
Jaxon’s face contorted, “What’s a pact?”
Y/n chuckled as she grabbed a small bowl of Cheerios to let Janie snack on in her lap.
“A pact is like a promise.”
Jack nodded, “Like a promise. That us J names have each other’s backs, alright? I need some protection. People watching my six.” He pointed to Janie, “You included. I need all the help I can get.”
Janie giggled at the idea of her protecting him. “I can’t help. I’m too little.”
“Sure, you can. You’re the toughest person here.”
The kids giggled, and Y/n smiled at the interaction. She didn’t know Jack was so good with kids. She knew he dealt with them at work time to time, but she had never witnessed him in action. And he was somehow charming her little cousins, who usually didn’t trust too easily.
Judy cooed and reached her hands out, and Jack gave her a little side eye.
“She’s a close second.”
Soon, the kids were all over him. He hadn’t realized that his girlfriend was basically the glorified babysitter at these events until now. Jaxon was clinging to his good leg (thankfully). And Janie was bossing them around on how to play this game, which Jack was having a hard time telling what the exact rules were.
Y/n sat busied with doting on little Judy. She watched Jack with a heart so full, knowing Jack was probably being drained a bit by the kids. Though he was doing the exact same to them, and their mothers would be thankful once they were napping on the car ride home.
Her aunt called the kids to eat some real food, and they begrudgingly started to calm down. Jack ruffled Jax’s head.
“Go eat. You need protein to beat the lava monster.”
With that totally sound logic, the kids practically booked it to grab a plate from their mom. And Jack limped back to his girl and sat next to her, Judy still in her lap. He winced and rubbed at the back of his prosthetic knee where skin met silicone.
She reached over and rubbed his shoulder, “Your leg bothering you?”
He shook his head in a ‘so-so’ manner, not wanting to worry her.
“It’s just sweaty, and when it sweats, it starts to chafe.” He grimaced a bit. “Just need to sit down for a bit.”
She laughed at that, “I’m sorry. My cousins are like that once they’re comfortable with someone… Or once they find a target that’ll play with them.”
Jack shook his head and looked down at Judy, who was biting her fist. He gently reached over and pinched the little rolls of her doughy arms.
“Don’t apologize. They’re great.” He looked down and made an overly excited face at Judy, making the baby squeal with laughter. Oh, that sound was like the bells of heaven ringing. “You’re great, huh?”
She bounced the baby on her knee, making her laugh more. “You wanna hold her?”
He didn’t drop his face, keeping it happy looking to entertain Judy, “Only if she wants to.”
Well, in convenient timing, the baby reached out and made grabby hands at Jack.
“I think she wants to.” She smiled and handed Jack the baby.
He made a little groan as he wrapped his hands around her tummy and quickly positioned the almost toddler onto his lap. Judy clapped her hands and looked around for approval. Y/n quickly started clapping and letting out a little ‘Yay!’
The baby let out a huff, and Jack looked down at her.
“Yeah. Long day, huh?”
That made the both of them laugh. Jack casually squeezed her little doughy arms and reached over to grab the small bowl of puff snacks on the table. He handed it to her, and Judy shrieked excitedly. Jack smiled, proud of himself for making his girlfriend’s little cousins happy.
“This is so so dangerous, sweetheart.” He murmured.
She smirked a little knowingly, “How so?”
“We’re too good at this.” He shook his head with a nervous smile, “Makes me think of things.”
Her eyes widened despite having put two and two together. The idea of kids was something they didn’t talk about much, but the general idea was that he was too old, and she liked her independence. She had always been that way. She liked being able to put herself first, and if she became a mother…she could never be selfish ever again. But the idea of kids with HIM? With Jack Abbot? For some reason, that was a lot more attractive. And more than attractive… it felt doable.
She shook off the thought and smiled with a blushing face.
“Yeah… Me too.” She admitted, watching Judy shove little star puffs into her mouth. “How about we revisit this when we’re…” She looked around at all the baby shower decorations. The little clothes and footie pajamas hanging around. The ultrasound pictures. The cutesy stuffed animals. “... more immune to propaganda.”
Jack chuckled, looking around himself. “I completely agree.”
A little later into the evening, it was getting close to leaving time, and all the adults sat at a long picnic table outside. The heat at least seemed to be settling down as the high noon sun set a little more. She and Jack had played a few of the baby shower games. Watched Sandra open presents with her beau. And did their best to get some time away from the little cousins.
One of her cousins squeezed her boyfriend’s hand, directing her half-lidded eyes to Y/n. “So… how did you meet Jack?”
She smiled, unfazed, “Our mutual friend, Dana, set us up.”
Jack scratched the back of his neck, “Yeah. Basically, a blind date, and I nearly passed out because Dana had failed to mention how freaking gorgeous you are.”
“Oh shut up.” She rolled her eyes with a smile, taking a sip of her drink.
“It’s true!”
Her aunt piped up and pointed between the two of them, “And you two aren’t bothered by the… well, by the age gap? I feel like I’d have nothing in common with someone like that.”
It was a bit of a sting, but the two of them were used to it.
She shrugged.
“We’re not really bothered. And it’s not like I’ve ever been overly trendy or anything. Honestly, I haven’t seen a big difference other than he’s more mature than any man my age.” At that, her older cousins looked at each other. It wasn’t meant to be a dig, but if the shoe fits.
Her aunt let out a little, “Huh,” and leaned back in her chair.
Suddenly, her grandma tapped the table, “Well, that just means you gotta get started on the grandbabies right away!”
Both her and Jack choked on their drinks.
“GRANDMA!” She laughed in shock as the rest of the table died in laughter, “Look, we’re not even married yet. Let that wait for just a bit more, okay?”
Under the table, she felt Jack reach down and squeeze her thigh. His grip a mix of fabric and skin. She flushed and bit her lip through her smile, trying to seem totally cool. Jack had been getting on her about getting married for the past month, so she knew she was in for the best kind of trouble when she got home.
Sandra rubbed her stomach, “Well, I wish you guys luck with everything. I’m sure whatever you decide will be best. Clearly, you’ve brought home a big catch.”
The table laughed again, and Jack raised his hands, waving them off.
“No, no… If anything, I’m the lucky one. Every day I wake up, and I can’t believe that a woman like your Y/n is with a guy like me.”
At that, all the girls swooned. The cousins. The aunts. They were all definitely won over by the handsome Dr. Jack Abbot. And she felt so completely satisfied.
“Thank you. You’re crazy, baby.” She chuckled and leaned over to give him a quick peck.
The kids watching from the end of the table let out a ‘EWWWWW’ and she shook her head with a laugh. Jack pointed to them.
“Hey, the J Name Pact. Remember?”
They giggled mischievously and returned their attention to their activity books. And with her whole family won over, she felt not only like she had made them proud. But that she was so incandescently happy to have Jack in her life and in her future, wherever that led.
TAG: @theariespov
in which jack tries his best to keep you cool during the hottest day of the year.
( any other uk gals & guys absolutely hating this heat??? we aint built for this. )
FLUFF! all fluff. fem! reader.
the heat starts before sunrise.
by eight in the morning, the apartment already feels unbearable, heavy air sticking to your skin no matter where you stand. every window is open, every fan is running, and somehow it still feels like you’re breathing through soup.
jack, unfortunately, handles this entirely too well.
probably because he’s an er doctor / ex combat medic and apparently prepared for every possible human condition, including melting alive.
“cold water,” he tells you for the fifth time that day, pushing a sweating glass into your hands. “small sips. not too fast.”
you glare at him from where you’re sprawled dramatically across the couch in shorts and one of his old loose fitting t-shirts. “if you say electrolytes one more time, i’m leaving you.”
“you can’t. it’s too hot outside.”
annoyingly, he’s right.
he’s spent the entire day implementing increasingly ridiculous survival strategies. curtains closed to block sunlight. damp washcloths in the freezer. homemade iced tea. strategically placing a fan in front of a bowl of ice like some kind of exhausted scientist.
and worst of all? all of it actually works.
“you’ve thought about this way too much,” you mumble as he presses a cold bottle of water against the back of your neck.
he shrugs. “heat stroke cases go up every summer.”
“romantic.”
“i contain multitudes.”
by nighttime, the temperature barely drops.
you’re both lying in bed on top of the sheets, trying not to move because movement somehow makes it worse. jack’s hair is damp from another cold shower, his t-shirt abandoned somewhere on the floor hours ago.
you hear him sigh beside you before he rolls closer automatically, half-asleep and seeking you out of habit.
the second his arm touches your waist, you immediately squirm away. “absolutely not.”
his eyes crack open. “rude.”
“you are a human furnace.”
“i’m just trying to cuddle my girlfriend.”
“you’re trying to kill me.”
he groans and flops onto his back dramatically. “this heat wave is destroying our relationship.”
“survival first.”
“wow.” jack scoffs.
you point weakly at him from across the mattress. “stay on your side before i start hissing at you.”
he snorts tiredly. “noted.”
the next afternoon, you come home expecting another miserable day of sweating through existence.
instead—
cold air hits your face the second you open the door. you stop dead in the entryway.
“…jack?” you call out.
from somewhere down the hall, he calls, “living room.”
you follow the sound and find him kneeling beside a brand-new portable ac unit, screwdriver still in hand, hair messy, looking annoyingly pleased with himself.
you stare at the machine. then at him.
“did you install air conditioning?”
“i did.”
“today?”
“i had a post-shift moment of clarity.”
you blink at him in disbelief before immediately walking straight into the stream of cold air with an emotional sigh.
jack laughs softly from behind you. “there it is.”
“i could kiss you right now.”
“could?”
you turn toward him, already crossing the room. “doctor jack abbot,” you say solemnly, grabbing his face with both hands, “you’re the love of my life.”
he grins as you kiss him, cool air humming softly around the apartment for the first time all week.
“yeah,” he murmurs against your mouth. “i figured you’d react well.”
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a little jack abbot piece for my semi-hiatus he’s kinda freaked in this one but not really at the same time, bro just loves his gf … work really has been taking it out of me
Jack loves your night time routine when you’re both home for him to witness it.
Usually, you take your time making a really cozy, hearty dinner: sometimes a chicken noodle soup, sometimes Irish stew; tonight you’ve chosen soup- while he cleans the entire house top to bottom and when everything is all done you rush to the showers.
It’s always scalding and Jack usually finishes before you lest he burns off the sensitive skin on his legs.
He likes it this way to be honest; at least now he can watch you go about your post shower routine fully dressed in his boxers.
He watches you reach for your lotion, and like a dog trained solely by the Pavlovian theory, his pupils dilate and he blushes.
You smell immediately like a cool summer night, fresh coconuts and something sweet underneath. He can never figure out if it’s a flower or if it’s caramel. Not an inch of your body is left neglected by the lotion and soon the entire bedroom smells of you.
He wants to smell of you too and doesn’t hesitate to call you over.
“C’mere, pretty lady.” He’s pushing himself to the edge of your bed, his prosthetic leg off to the side making him move just a tiny bit slower as he makes sure he’s balanced where he sits.
You grin and shake your head like every night but make your way over to him in just a pair of boy shorts.
“You’re like a dog.” You giggle as he sticks his nose to your collarbone, inhaling you deeply. He rubs his scruffy nose across your collarbone and up to your neck, and when he groans against your skin you can’t help the goosebumps that break out.
“You always smell so fucking good,” his voice has gone a bit lower and his hands grab onto your hips and pull you closer when you try to move away. “What is it?” He asks greedily, just before he starts sucking at the hollow of your throat.
“Coconut honey lotion.” You respond breathlessly and he grunts, his hands falling to your ass. “Such a fucking caveman.”
“I could live wrapped up in you after a shower.”
“Jack,” you laugh outright when he nips at your skin, making a sticky line of kisses from your collarbone to the top of your breasts.
He looks up, green eyes nearly black. “I love you,” your skin heats under his touch.
“I love you too,” you lean down and kiss his nose. “Can we go have dinner now? Or do you want to sniff me some more?”
You squeal when he swats at your ass and pulls one of his shirts over your head. “Dinner first,” he kisses your chin when your head pops out. “And maybe I’ll sniff you some more if you’re good.”
F - fluff S - smut A - angst
♡ - series ☆ - one shot ◇ - headcanons
last updated - 30/05/2026
⤷ fic count - 37
@abbothecary ——————————
☆ isn't she lovely | F.
⤷ a cute moment with frankie and your bump
@angelloveprincess ——————————
☆ frank langdon x barbie!reader | F.
⤷ on your first day, you’d tried your best to look as put together as you could even if that would all go to shit later on in your shift.
@annsfics ——————————
◇ frank langdon drabble | S. A.
⤷ [ part 2 ]
@bean1ebabie ——————————
♡ damn good doctor | F. A.
⤷ frank langdon is a damn good doctor. he is a good husband and father, but he is an even better doctor. even good doctors make mistakes.
@clarktologist ——————————
☆ tachycardia | F. S.
⤷ your boyfriend accidentally brings home his stethoscope, so you use it to check his heartrate.
☆ two hands [and a bit of teeth] | F.
⤷ you're very clingy with your boyfriend, and he's happy to return the favor. until teeth get involved. OR the three times you bite frank langdon and the one time he bites you back.
@dearkeery ——————————
♡ rein me in | F. S. A.
⤷ frank langdon’s back in pittsburgh ten months post-rehab, post-divorce, and post-moving into a one bedroom apartment with no wife, no kids, and more baggage. the pressure and anxiety coupled with his chronic back pain all happening on the eve of the fourth of july nearly causes him to relapse. a thing he knows could ultimately cost him his medical license and whatever semblance of a life he still had. considering the magnitude of what he’s got to lose, he wills every strength he has left to resist the urge brought by his crippling addiction, one mocktail at a time.
@deerfawnn ——————————
☆ more than we thought | F.
⤷ frank langdon x fem!reader (friends with benefits)
☆ sweet | F.
⤷ frank langdon x fem!reader (established relationship)
◇ this drabble | F.
⤷ when you fall asleep on the couch waiting for frank to get home
◇ this drabble | F.
⤷ headcanons about holding his chin while kissing him or planting a smooch on the divot and him loving it
◇ this drabble | F.
⤷ frank accidentally telling your coworkers that you're dating
@fangirl-dot-com ——————————
☆ a vet and a resident walk into a bar(n)... | F.
⤷ frank langdon x whitaker!reader
@felix24601 ——————————
☆ safe here | S. A.
⤷ you and frank are fuck buddies, when he accidentally triggers you and suddenly, things get a lot more real.
@flowersforbucky ——————————
☆ you're a bad idea (but a real good time) | F. S. A.
⤷ it wasn’t supposed to be anything more than sex. you barely even liked each other as friends. frank uses you, and you use him. but somewhere along the way, the lines got blurred.
@flowersforjude ——————————
☆ controlled substance | F. A.
⤷ fighting feelings for your coworker wouldn’t be so hard if loving them wasn’t so easy.
@harringtonshoe ——————————
☆ what a feeling | F.
⤷ you wake up to one of the worst feelings in the world: cramps. lucky for you, your boyfriend is a doctor and somehow knows the key to making you feel better.
@honeyroots ——————————
◇ sloppy makeouts with langdon | S.
⤷ frank langdon has a perfect mouth
@jadeittic ——————————
☆ shared walls | F. A.
⤷ after a nearly fatal accident while you practice, an exhausted frank langdon next door becomes tangled in your recovery.
@langdonsbracelets ——————————
☆ amputation | F.
⤷ single mom reader and a daughter with a broken wrist from a silly accident.
@ltsjuly ——————————
☆ back home | F. A.
⤷ stressful day at the ER, go home together, reflecting the day and gentleman behavior
@matchamangolover7 ——————————
☆ best friend's brother | F.
⤷ you’ve been roommates with your best friend aria since you both turned 18 and graduated high school. and she just so happens to also be the sister of your childhood crush. it’s been years since you’ve seen him and you swear your feelings have faded. until you see him again today, right before your first shift at the ptmc, and then again at karaoke night in the local bar.
@maxinebxrnes ——————————
☆ you look beautiful | F. A.
⤷ after months of pining, and the two of you being oblivious. the hospitals charity gala finally gets frank to confess his underlying love to you.
@nostarfights ——————————
☆ i'm on your side | F. S. A.
⤷ with barely anyone else left to turn to as his time in rehab slowly comes to a close, frank decides to lean on you.
@novatheory ——————————
☆ late night talkin' | F.
⤷ the three times you sleep talk in front of frank langdon, and the one time he talks back.
@oatkissedlatte ——————————
☆ sundress season | S.
⤷ a sweet picnic date with frank langdon turns spicy when frank notices what you're wearing, and what you're not wearing.
@redd-blushing-roses ——————————
☆ ring ring... hello?? | F.
⤷ it's never easy being a parent in the emergency department. never. you don't know how frank does it half the time. what he doesn't tell you is it's always the little things that keep him going. the reminder that at the end of the day, he has his family to come home to.
☆ suck it up buttercup | F. A.
⤷ every month, you suck up the pain of being a woman and ignore your pain to help patients with theirs. every month, frank tries to tell you to take it easy, to stop and listen to your body and stop pushing yourself. but it's hard when your whole life you've lived with a "take it like a man" mindset. until one day you can't take it anymore and your body forces you to listen to it. and to frank.
☆ just meant to be | F.
⤷ it was terrible timing. a positive pregnancy test during your first year interning at PTMC turns your carefully planned future upside down. but while you're panicking at the prospect of pregnancy derailing your careers, frank is utterly smitten with the fact he is going to be a dad... and you're going to be a mom.
@reysdriver ——————————
◇ domestic headcanons | F. S. A.
⤷ some headcanons about the soft, domestic, parent life with frank langdon — dad!frank langdon x mom!reader
@shadeofpeach ——————————
☆ panicked girlfriend | F. A.
⤷ frank comes home to find you unraveled on the bathroom floor. your relationship is still too new for him to know your phobia. but as he pieces your terrifying thoughts together, he steps in with the perfect blend of medical calm and boyfriend tenderness to ground you through it.
☆ anticipation | F.
⤷ pregnant reader who can't sleep because she's nervous
@sugartalk-ing ——————————
☆ frank langdon x reader | F. A.
⤷ “you came?” / “you called.”
@tearsof-scarlet ——————————
☆ under fluorescent lights | F. A.
⤷ you’re the newest ER resident, fighting to prove yourself under the relentless scrutiny of doctor langdon, brilliant, distant, and impossible to read. when a fellow resident’s unwanted attention starts crossing lines, dr. langdon begins to take notice.
@uwulyn ——————————
☆ his back making it hard to carry chunky baby | F.
abby and their kids do not exist here...just wanted a little sad scenario with frank's back making it hard for him to carry their chunky baby :< but not too sad!
@withheavenontop ——————————
♡ lover, you should've come over | F. A.
⤷ adelaide solace starts her first shift in her emergency medicine rotation at PTMC and gets stuck with the cocky R2 in triage.
@xxepherr ——————————
☆ compartmentalise | F.
⤷ working with your fiance has never proven to be an issue before. it becomes one when you learn from your coworkers that apparently there's a surprise waiting for you at home.
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summary: it's never easy being a parent in the emergency department. never. you don't know how frank does it half the time. what he doesn't tell you is it's always the little things that keep him going. the reminder that at the end of the day, he has his family to come home to.
warnings: none really. mentions of a patient loss, kids and babies. just something sweet and fluffy. also no use of the names tanner or penny, but there is still an older boy and younger girl dynamic.
notes: a quick one I wrote yesterday. still working on a long jack fic (currently sitting at 8k and counting) which should be out soon.
It wasn't unusual for Frank to disappear at some point during a shift. Especially not after a case like this.
Not after blood had soaked through his latex gloves and his back and shoulders ached from the repeated compressions; not when he’d spent the last half hour listening to the piercing ring of a heart monitor flatlining.
Dana knew it. Robby knew it. Jeez, even Abbot knew it.
Better to let him disappear, wander down a hall and decompress or whatever it was that he did.
“Where's Doctor Langdon?” Mel asks curiously, head craning as she looks around the pitt. Dana gives her a smile, flipping through her endless pile of patient charts.
“He's out taking a quick breather.”
Her eyes widen, worry lining her frown.
“Is he okay?”
“He'll be fine.”
“Are you sure?” Dana looks up at the blonde R3, giving her a knowing smile.
“He always is.”
Frank paces in the hidden nook of the pediatrics wing, phone pressed to his ear. He listens as the dial tone rings. And rings. And rings.
He sighs, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. As if that'll erase the gruesome image of the patient case he'd just left.
He can still smell the metallic hint of blood on his fingers. Even after he’d spent a long while scrubbing his hands raw in the bathroom. Frank lets out a shaky breath, turning on his heel and walking alongside the plainly decorated wall.
The dial tone rings. And rings.
Click.
“Hi, you've reached the Langdon residence! Please call back or leave a-”
Frank hangs up at the sound of the voice machine, swallowing thickly and punching in your home number again. He presses the call button, lifting the phone to his ear again. Maybe you were busy.
Of course you were busy. You were in a perpetual state of busy with two kids under two and a brand new puppy. And a husband who was gone half the week taking care of other people.
It’s on days like this that he hates the distance. Hates the long hours and shifts he spends at the hospital. Hates that he can’t just walk into the next room and see his babies. Can’t just listen to you ramble about your day or hold you extra long in bed.
He hates how his heart hurts now, the need to hear your voice growing every time he closes his eyes. The gruesome image of his patient staining the back of his eye lids-
“Hello?” Frank pauses as the little voice answers the phone instead of you. “Hellooo?”
It takes him a second to register the fact he knows this voice. Of course he does, how could he not.
“Benny?”
“Hi daddy! You’re on the phone.”
“I am," Frank lets out, a half chuckled statement.
“Daddy I’m talking on the phone to- uh oh,” there’s a clatter and a little grunt. Frank smiles in spite of his confusion, listening. “Daddy I’m still talking on the phoonne.”
Frank’s brows furrow as he leans against the wall, realizing it’s his son who has answered the phone. Not you.
The old landline phone Frank insisted you keep in case of emergencies in spite of the fact you had a perfectly fine iphone. The landline phone that was kept on one of the higher shelves of the bookcase in your living room.
“Ben- Benny hold up,” Frank frowns. “How’d you get the phone bud?”
“I climbed.”
“You climbed- you climbed the couch?” Frank hears another clatter and a grunt.
“I- I being careful."
“Bud,” Frank sighs. “You know you’re not supposed to climb the couch. Remember-”
“Daddy are you almost home soon?”
Frank pauses at Ben’s question. He could picture the two year old’s little pout, the mop of dirty blonde curls on his head, messy from a long day playing in the backyard.
“Almost buddy. I’ve still got a couple more hours.”
“Are you gonna have spasgetti with us?” Spasgetti. Frank’s heart melts at the word.
“Yeah. We're having spasgetti for dinner.” You told Frank not to give into the little mispronunciations that came from your toddler.
“Frank, if you keep this up, Ben will be saying ‘wollypop’ and ‘oppapus’ till he’s thirty.”
“That’s a bad thing?”
“Frank!”
But it was so hard to resist. Hard to resist having to face the fact his son wouldn’t always be this little. Frank sighs, running a hand over his forehead.
“Benny, can I talk to your mom?”
“You talkin to me.”
“I know bud,” Frank chuckles, half amused and trying not to grow frustrated. “But I need you to pass the phone to mommy. I have to talk to her-”
“No.”
“Ben-”
From somewhere behind the line, Frank hears you call your son’s name.
“Ben. Who are you talking to?”
It’s far away, like you’re in another room. Frank cringes as Ben yells enthusiastically into the line.
“DADDY!”
“Daddy- baby can you bring me the phone?”
“OKAY!
There's the sound of little feet running on the wood floor. A thud and an ouch.
“You okay?” Frank asks but gets no answer.
He frowns, scratching the line of his hair as he hears more rustling and movement. And then there’s unintelligent mumbling from you, the phone likely pressed into your shoulder as you remind Ben not to climb the couch. Frank would have to remember to have the ‘two feet on the ground’ conversation again at some point.
It’s another moment before he hears your voice more clearly, accompanied by a quiet gurgling. Frank smiles. Probably his six month old baby girl.
“No Benny, not your sister- Frank?”
“Hey,” He says, chest tightening at finally hearing your voice clearly.
“You okay?” You ask. Because of course you’d ask. Somehow you always know; that sixth sense he always marveled over at being able to decipher when he’d just had a bad case. Knowing the difference between a casual check in and a desperate one.
“I’m- yeah I’m okay. I just needed to hear you guys.”
“Oh, I’m sorry Frank. For whatever it is- baby!” Frank smiles again as he hears a familiar shrieking squeal. It’s high pitched, the laugh Frank always manages to elicit through tummy tickles or his exaggerated game of peak a boo. “Junie, I’m talking to daddy, hold on.”
Frank laughs as he hears you wrestle the phone away from your baby girl’s curious hands.
“Ugh, I’m sorry. She’s been grabbing every single thing she’s laid her eyes on today. I had to fish the tv changer out of the toilet again.”
“Ah. Hey Junie,” he says, knowing his daughter would be able to hear him. “No more terrorizing your mom, ‘kay? I’m coming home soon.” June’s babbling gets louder and he hears something wet crackle over the phone’s speaker.
“Ew, June. Please don’t slobber all over the phone baby,” you huff. “I’m sorry Frank, we’re kind of all over the place today. Did you need to talk about something?”
Frank thinks for a moment, the patient flashing in his mind's eye again. He’d almost forgotten why he’d called in the first place.
“No. no that’s okay. I should probably go actually. They’re probably wondering where I snuck off to.”
“Okay. You’re home at seven, right?”
“That’s the plan. I wouldn’t hold my breath though.” You chuckle.
“Okay, so start dinner around eight?” Frank sighs.
“Probably. Tell Ben I’m sorry, no spasgetti for me.”
“You’re such an enabler, Frank.” He snorts.
“It’s cute!”
“Of course it is. But he’s not-” your voice is cut off with a loud cry, the sound of the puppy barking from the other room accompanying Ben’s wails. “Oh shoot, that’s Ben. Frank I have to go.”
“I know. I’ll see you later.”
“Okay, love you.”
“Love you too,” Frank parrots, but he’s already heard the line click shut. He sighs, pocketing his phone and stretching his neck.
The pedes hall he’d been lingering in is quiet. Much more quiet than the chaos of the ED and he feels a warm peace covering him. A gentle encouragement that he can do this. Just a few more hours and he’d be back home, thrown into another brand of chaos. One he’d created and crafted with you by his side.
Dana notices Frank wander back into the pitt twenty minutes after he’d disappeared. He looks a little better, less pale and shaky than when he had left the trauma room. There’s a rosy tint to his cheeks, a lingering humor behind his eye that she recognizes.
He saunters up to the nurses counter, leaning against it as he stares up at the patient board with interest.
“You okay?” Dana asks. Frank nods, giving her an apologetic look.
“Yeah. sorry, I didn’t mean to be away for so long.” She shrugs.
“We do what we have to do to stay sane.” He nods, biting the inside of his cheek. Dana smiles. “How’s the missus?”
Frank chuckles.
“The same as always. Busy. Got her hands full.”
“Not surprising. She’s good for you Frank. Didn’t think there was anyone out there who’d be able to handle you or your offspring.”
“Hey,” Frank gives her a look.
“I’m just saying,” Dana raises her hand in defense, reaching over to grab a new patient chart. “Here, you can have this one. Patient came in with a big gash. Needs stitches. You can sit and think about your adorable kids while you stitch him up.”
Frank laughs, taking the tablet from her.
“Alright.”
Frank comes home late. Much later than he’d expected. It's close to midnight by the time he pushes the front door of your little house open, cringing at the creaking hinges. He still hadn’t fixed that, remembering you’d asked him to only when he entered the house in the dead of night.
It’s dark in the house as Frank sets down his bag, the lingering smell of garlic and basil hitting him as he kicks off his shoes. He was starving, his mind already set on digging into the cold container of spaghetti he knew would be sitting in the fridge. Maybe drink a coke and pop a couple of advil because his back was killing him-
Frank stills as he passes by the couch, his frame freezing. All thoughts of food or sleep disappear as he takes in the bundle of blankets there, your son curled up against his pillow, dinosaur sheets darkened by a pool of spit.
Ben is passed out, the blanket twisted around his pajama clad legs. He’s got a hold of his mismatched sippy cup, like it was the last anchor keeping his eyes open before sleep had dragged him under. Frank smiles, crouching down to brush a strand of hair out of Ben’s closed eyes.
Poor kid. He must have tried to stay up. A battle lost before it could even begin.
Frank stands, ignoring the ache in his back as he bends over and lifts his son into his arms. Ben lets out a shuddering breath, sippy cup falling to the floor with a dull thud as the boy snuggles deeper into Frank’s shirt.
“Daddy,” Ben mumbles sleepily, little fingers digging into Frank’s shirt.
“Yeah bud,” Frank whispers into the boy’s hair. “It’s me. You close your eyes and go back to sleep, okay.” The words fall on dead ears, Ben already fast asleep again.
Frank grabs the pillow on the couch and treks down the quiet hall, listening out for you. He passes by the kitchen, glancing inside quickly. But there's only a forgotten dinner bowl on the counter, a single lamp lit over Pretzel’s dog bed. The puppy lifts his head with curiosity at Frank, tail wagging as the man waves.
Frank continues down the hall, now accompanied by the dog who jingles with each step. He can hear your voice distantly, muffled by the door to June’s nursery. You must have been feeding her. Or trying to put her back to bed. Sleep regression was not for the faint of heart.
Ben goes down easily, not waking as Frank tucks him into bed gently. He frowns when he sees a darkening bruise on Ben’s chin, fingers brushing along it unconsciously.
Clinically. Ever the doctor. He must have got it during the phone call earlier.
Frank just sighs, rubbing the arch of his lower back as he slowly walks out of the little boy's room, only taking his eyes off his son at the last minute. Pretzel is at his feet, the dog always attached to Frank’s hip when he was home. He supposes it's only fair. Considering he was the one who wanted the dog anyway.
He closes the door halfway, looking up just as you're exiting the baby’s room. You look just as tired as Frank feels. Your hair is thrown up messily, tomato sauce and spit up staining your jeans and sweatshirt. You’ve got the baby monitor and your pump cradled in one hand, the other lingering on the door frame.
You glance over at him with a far away smile, eyes crinkling with relief.
“Hey,” you whisper quietly, eyes widening. “I thought that was you.”
Frank gives you an equally exhausted smile, arm extended to tuck you into his side. It’s hard to say who leans on who, the two of you practically keeping the other upright as you pad back down the hall.
“I’m sorry I’m so late. There was a bad crash over by the college. Couple of students got hit.” You hum faintly, hand reaching up to run through the short hairs at the base of his neck.
“Oh Frank. That’s awful.” He shrugs.
“It’s the job. I missed you though.”
“Me too. Although it’s hard to say who missed you more. June was crying awful hard after she heard you on the phone.” Frank smiles, letting you go as you reach the kitchen.
“That stinker. I don’t even remember what she looks like half the time anymore. Feels like she changes after every shift.” You chuckle tiredly, taking care of the milk you’d pumped and glancing over at the abandoned bowl of spaghetti like it personally offended you.
“Do you want some?” you ask, gesturing towards the bowl. “I didn’t even get to finish more than a couple bites. There was a riot over what kind of plate Ben got and a diaper blow out escapade. I know you might have already eaten-”
“Cold spaghetti? Sounds like a dream right now. I’m starving,” Frank grins, leaning over the counter and pulling the bowl towards him. “I think I’m running on half a red bull and a handful of trail mix right now.”
You laugh and move towards the opposite side of the counter, bending down and lifting a now whining Pretzel into your arms. Frank takes turns feeding the pasta to you and himself, the kitchen filled with your gentle voices.
He’s trying his hardest to listen to you as you ramble about your day, something about pudding being the perfect bribe and needing to vacuum out the jungle of a back seat in your car.
“-But of course, I didn’t even see him climb the couch. That boy is so fast, Frank. I tell you. I honestly won’t be surprised if he’s got a broken bone before he turns three.” Frank shakes his head.
“Uh huh. Not happening. I don’t want to see either of them in the ED for another twenty years. Maybe twenty five.” You laugh, rolling your eyes. Frank smiles, watching the puppy lick tomato sauce off your chin.
“You know,” you start. “You didn’t tell me why you called earlier. Not that I can’t guess, but, did you need to talk about it?”
Frank shrugs, glancing down at the empty bowl, his fingers twirling the fork mindlessly.
“No. No it’s okay. It was just… it was just a lot. A kid had come in, not much older than Ben. Found in a pool.” Frank shakes his head. “We couldn’t get her back.”
Your eyes are glossy in the dim light, your hand reaching out to caress his wrist.
“I’m sorry Frank.” He nods, not meeting your eye.
“I just… sometimes I just need to hear you guys. To remember I still got you.”
“You always got us.”
“Maybe. Still need the reminder sometimes.” You smile.
Frank takes the Pretzel from your arms and sets the dog down on the kitchen floor. He takes your hand, pulling you around the counter before he wraps his arms around you. You melt into him, cheek resting against his chest.
“You’re so warm. I could just fall asleep right here.”
“Oh, no,” Frank mumbles. “I don’t think I’d be able to carry you back to bed.”
"I can't keep doing this, Frank," you whisper while rounding the brick corner of PTMC so that you're out of sight of the ambulance bay.
He stammers. "N-No, baby, please. I'm fucking begging you not to end this. Not now, when I need you the most. Being with you in that motel room is the only time I feel like myself. Like a fucking person, or a man. If I lose you, everything falls apart. I do."
"It already has," you choke through a broken sob. "I'm a mess. I can't sleep, like I told you. And Abby—"
"You are the only woman who matters to me now. Just—Just one more time. Please. One last time, and then... If you want to say goodbye..."
You swipe tears from your dry, bloodshot eyes. "Only one?"
Frank releases a ragged sigh of relief. He has you exactly where he needs you. "The last one."
He trembled in your arms when you first arrived.
Frank clutched adamantly at your shoulders, your back, your hands. It was like he was trying to figure out a way to hold every inch of you at once so that you could never leave.
But an agreement has been made; a promise which must be kept.
So here you lie nakedly beneath him with spread legs and an open heart which are both soon to close when the sun rises, signaling that the night has come to an end.
That what you have has.
Sliding his palms down your curvaceous sides, Frank grips your hips and flips you suddenly onto your belly. Pulling you back against him, he sinks between your fluttering walls again without a moment of reprieve before he sets a pleasant, yet punishing pace.
He's always insisted on looking at you—being able to gaze into your eyes while you find your peak together—but with this being your affair's grand finale... You understand that even a modicum of distance will make it easier to bid each other farewell.
Frank traces his fingertips down the curve of your spine and the featherlight touch causes your hips to buck back against him and your walls to squeeze tightly around his cock. "Please," you whimper.
Keeping your hips angled upwards while your face is half shoved into a smooshed pillow, he bends over and lies his chest flat against your back. His hands circle your waist and cup either of your breasts while his hips keep meeting with yours. Damp skin smacks against damp skin with a repeated wet 'plapping' sound interrupting the hum of the AC unit that's mounted in the window, and the skin of your ass ripples with each thrust.
When he pulls out for but a moment, your chin wobbles. But you didn't get to—
Just as quickly, he returns his cock to where it belongs inside of you, and you sigh in relief.
"I love you," Frank whispers against the warm shell of your ear. "Completely. You can't just ask me to let go."
You sniffle, then clasp one of your hands over his which is still tightly gripping your sensitive breast. "We have to," you whine.
He presses his lips to the back of your neck and squeezes his eyes shut while furiously rubbing against your clit so that you both orgasm at the same time.
Chances are more likely that way.
You'll hate him forever—given that it works—but at least you'll also be tied to him for the rest of your life.
He doesn't feel like he has another choice.
Gnashing his teeth together, his bare cock spasms inside of you, and coats your slick, fleshy walls in thick spurts of cum. Frank groans in relief as your cunt clenches tightly around him a moment later, signaling that his efforts have been repaid in full; that his plan succeeded as you cum along with him.
He holds fast to your soft body until his tightened balls loosen from where they were twitching against the swell of your ass as they emptied inside of you, and his cock has stilled and begun to slowly turn flaccid once more.
"D-Did..." you stutter, despite your swimming head, unsure of what you just felt exactly.
Something felt...different. But because you'd been lost in the feeling of his fingers rapidly strumming your sensitive bundle of nerves while you came undone in a flurry of breathless "I love yous", you're not sure.
When Frank pulls out of you, you nearly collapse onto the mattress in exhaustion, but just manage to dip your head enough to watch as a steady stream of semen pours out of your well-used cunt.
"Oh my G—" You twist around and seat yourself, then shove your fingers inside your vagina, which come away covered in cum. You jerk your head up and watch as he stumbles back and falls against the curtained window. "Did the condom break?" Your voice raises pitch in a blind panic "Where is it? Frank, where the hell—"
On the floor, a rubber circle lays atop shag carpet, and your tirade ceases into silence. "What... What did you—"
"I had to," he pleads with upturned palms. "You didn't leave me another choice. It's the only way I could think of to keep us together."
"You—You did this on purpose?!" You cry incredulously.
You can feel a scream clawing its way up your tightening throat.
"You wanted to leave me," he sobs while tangling his slender fingers in glossy hair. "I can't be without you. You have to understand, baby—"
The impact is so sudden—so harsh—that it leaves an angry red handprint-shaped welt upon his cheek.
Your mind is so addled that you can't even remember the term for what he's just done. But you know that it's a form of assault. Or... You can't think of the four letter word. Rather, you absolutely do not want to. Is... Is that truly what he just did to you?
After everything you've done for him? This is how he repays you loving and taking care of him? Standing by him through thick and thin when everyone else fled his side?
Now you get it: they saw something which you clearly didn't.
But he made sure you couldn't see straight due to constantly having his dick buried inside you, all while crying about how his life had fallen apart to gain your unending sympathy and affection.
You swiftly grab your belongings from the floor and race toward the bathroom. You only just manage to lock it when he reaches the other side.
Tugging on your clothes in a blind rage, you put your shirt on backwards at first, but deem you don't care as you pull on a pair of pants next. You need to get out of here and home. Or... Should you go to the hospital?
Jack will know if you do.
He'll tell Robby.
And Robby will kill Frank.
Maybe you want that.
"Please," Frank sobs like a child who's just broken his favorite toy and is pleading for another. "Please don't leave me. I'm so fuckin' sorry," he bawls with fists flush against the door.
You consider the pepper spray in your purse, then grab it.
You swing the door open and hold it in front of you. "Get the fuck away from me!" you scream while keeping your index finger resting firmly over the button that'll send him reeling back in agonizing pain if you only apply just a modicum of pressure.
He staggers back and bumps into the wall behind him, granting you enough room to make your wanted exit.
You break and run for the door and leave it standing wide open as you unlock your vehicle, toss your things inside in a mess that half lands in the passenger seat and the back before turning the ignition over and peeling out of the parking lot, leaving him alone at last.
Staring ahead at double-decker rows of motel rooms, your stomach twists into nervous knots, just like always. For a brief, fleeting moment in time, it had been butterflies; excitement from finally doing something utterly reckless, impulsive, and sheerly selfish for once in your life.
Now, you just feel sick constantly.
But you can't stop.
You suppose you both have addictions now. Yours is just of a different nature.
Glancing in the rearview, you stare at the flickering neon sign behind you which announces vacancies, hot tubs, and HBO. Too bad the first portion wasn't out tonight. If it had been, then this wouldn't be happening...again.
You've lost track of how many times the two of you have met here; done this. You don't think you want to know, or you'd probably be horrified by the final count.
Grabbing your overnight bag with a quiet gulp, you settle it over your shoulder before exiting the vehicle.
Rapping quietly at the door that stands before you with your knuckles, you do your usual paranoid sweep of the premises by continually glancing around, as if at any moment one of your fellow residents or coworkers will pop out from behind a corner and ambush you by announcing that they now have knowledge of your dirty little secret and will be announcing it to the entirety of the ED.
And then the door swings open, and light spills out across the darkened sidewalk.
Cupping the back of your head in his palm, Frank sends you stumbling forward when he pulls you in close and crushes his lips to yours.
You know it's highly unlikely, but sometimes you think you can taste the benzos on his tongue.
"You came," he says with relief while ushering you inside.
He always seems surprised each time you loyally show up on your usual room's doorstep.
"God, this feels so fuckin' good," Frank drawls from atop you.
His thrusts have grown sloppy and uneven, but you suppose that's to be expected when one is high. Slowly rocking his hips against yours, only the hum of the AC and squelching from between your thighs breaks what is, for you, an otherwise awkward silence.
Hovering above you, sweat from Frank's brow drips onto your bare breast and tendrils of his hair shields his dilated eyes from yours.
Smoothing a hand over your forehead, he looses a ragged breath. "Are you enjoying this?"
You force a smile and nod. Wrapping an arm around his naked shoulders, you cup his cheek in your other hand and tug his lips down to yours.
No more talking, just fucking.
Frank's sweaty limbs are splayed across your body. Half of his own naked form is lain against yours while his lips are positioned directly next to your ear, allowing you to hear every puff of breath that exits his lungs.
"You wanna take a shower together?" he rumbles.
You don't want to move at all, nor blink or breathe or think.
"Kinda tired," you whisper.
He presses a wet kiss to your cheek. "Could draw us a bath if you'd rather sit down. I can wash you if you want."
You should go home. This isn't somewhere you should be at.
"Okay."
Clutching the edge of the mattress you sit upon, you stare ahead at the open bathroom door and listen to the sound of running water. Clad only in Frank's t-shirt, you curl your toes against the rough-spun carpet beneath them.
When he exits the bathroom, you glance away and wait until he pulls on a pair of boxers before you look at him again.
"Water's running," he remarks with a thumb pointed over his shoulder.
You nod dully.
"You alright?" he asks while crossing his arms.
You blink back the tears that've filled your eyes. "We shouldn't be doing this."
He sighs, then seats himself next to you while mentally preparing for the same argument as always. "You say that every time."
You turn your head away and clench your jaw to prevent your chin from wobbling. "You're having an affair," you whisper.
"We are," he states with a nod, followed by a dismissive shrug. "Yeah."
You sniffle, then swipe a tear from your cheek. "We can't keep carrying on like this."
Predictably, he huffs in irritation and slaps his hands against his thighs. "Sorry, but did you make that decision before, during, or after I had my dick in you?"
You shove the heels of your palms against your damp eyes and groan so deeply that it borders on an angry growl. "I'm barely sleeping," you sob. "I can't keep anything down because I feel sick all the time. I'm terrified that somebody at work is going to look at me one day and somehow just know what we've been doing in here."
You stand and put some needed distance between the two of you while leaning back against the papered wall the TV is mounted to.
Frank purses his lips, then rests his hands on his knees. "If you took something, you'd feel better. I have some—"
"I have no interest in becoming a fucking addict," you spit.
His jaw feathers.
With a roll of your eyes, you pad into the bathroom to check on the tub.
"Have no issue with actually fucking one, though," he mutters.
With your knees drawn up to your chest, you stay quiet while Frank runs a soapy cloth over your bare back. His left leg presses against your hip when he leans over to reach your opposite side.
"Are you staying?" he asks quietly. "We'll finish up in here, maybe order takeout and watch a movie..." His eyes flit to the back of your head. "Could have sex all night, if you want."
You know the latter is what he's secretly hoping for. Why else does anyone come to a budget motel, far from the city proper?
It'd be better for you if you left. But it's also easier not to think of how much of a treacherous whore you are when you're not alone, but instead warming the bed of your accomplice. "Yes."
Leaning forward, he slides a hand around your naked waist—which causes warm water to quietly slosh—and presses a tender kiss to your shoulder. "Thank you."
"Frank...?"
"Yeah, baby?" he replies while running the cloth beneath your breasts.
"How many times do you think we've had sex now?" You pause. "Twenty? Fifty?" You ask with a broken voice.
He snorts quietly. "Yeah, maybe," he replies with a shrug.
Turned toward the window near the door, you watch as heavy, hideously patterned curtains flutter from the cool air the AC unit is blowing into the limited space. The odd dim flash of light from outside coasts across the floor before disappearing again when they recede.
Pressed against your back is Frank's naked chest and both his arms are wrapped around your front. One is slid under your neck while the other is thrown lazily over your breasts.
"I love you," he murmurs while squeezing you gently. "Feels like you're the only thing I've got left. I honestly have no idea what I'd do without you."
Reaching up, you twine your fingers between his and swallow down the lump in your throat before replying. "I'm not going anywhere."
He nuzzles the back of your head. "Maybe we could leave. Just take off together."
You squeeze your eyes shut.
He always has to ruin it.
"You have kids," you hiss.
Frank grows quiet for a moment. "I know that. I just meant..." He sighs. "I didn't mean permanently. Like a vacation; a trip somewhere. Just you and me."
"I have work," you murmur while ghosting fingertips up his forearm.
"Be here when you get back," he replies.
You grow quiet.
"Just promise me that you'll think about it," Frank insists.
Turning around to face his chest, you curl around his naked form. "I promise."
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It's well past midnight, hours after Jack had left for his shift. You had been laying awake for a while, half expecting a text from him, or maybe a call from Robby. Anything that confirms what you'd been suspicious of for the last 24 hours.
The call comes from Lena.
"Hi hon! Sorry to wake you."
"No, no that's alright. Is everything okay?"
"Well..."
You're pulling on a pair of sweats and one of Jack's thick sweaters a minute later, grabbing your keys and making the short drive to PTMC. It's busy when you sneak in through the ambulance bay, your eyes wide as you take in the crowded waiting room through the glass divider.
John gives you a grin and a friendly wave when you pass by him, a half drunk coffee clutched in his hand. You smile, clutching your keys a little tighter.
"Where is he?"
"Solitary confinement." You make a face.
"That bad huh?"
"Lena told me she thinks it's mostly a fever. But he was putting up a bit of a fight when Robby asked to check him out."
"I'm sure," you sigh, thanking John before moving to the patient room across the ED.
A bit of a fight was an understatement.
"Robby, so help me- I swear to God- if you put that thing anywhere near me again-"
"It's just a thermometer. It's not gonna kill you Jack!"
You peek in behind the curtain, trying to hold in a laugh as you take in the sight.
"What's happening here?"
Jack looks over, eyes rimmed red, his nose and cheeks flushed. You could see the wads of tissue stuffed into his pocket, the sweat beading along his forehead. Lena just shakes her head from over by the wall, watching Robby hover over your husband with a thermometer clutched in his hand.
"Welcome to the show."
"It's not a show," Jack barks, his hand held out to push Robby away. "I'm telling you I'm fine."
"Jack, you're burning up man. You look worse than some of the patients here."
"Well jeez, you don't look the greatest either, sunshine." Robby sighs, giving you a deadpan look. You just laugh behind your hand, moving to stand beside Lena.
"Has he been like this for a while?" Lena asks.
"Yes," you say, Jack's head whips around to look at you so fast you’re surprised he didn't break it. If he didn't look so miserable and betrayed, you'd almost say he looked cute with his messy curls and big pout. You smile, "It started yesterday. He had a cough and was sneezing-"
"Allergies," Jack interjects gruffly.
"-And then he was trying his hardest to pretend like he wasn't sweating buckets before he left for his shift."
"I take an extra hot shower sometimes," he says defensively, his voice catching as he turns, coughing hoarsely into the crook of his elbow. Jack sniffs, the sound of mucus plugging up his throat echoing loudly.
Robby and Lena give each other looks. You sigh.
"Jack," you start, moving closer. He shakes his head.
"I'm not sick."
"You literally have snot dripping down your lip."
“I’m fine!”
He protests for a half hour, practically fighting against Robby and John who help you get him into your car an hour later after they forced him to go home.
"I'm not sick! It's just a cold!!"
“Stop whining and put your seatbelt on,” you say as you slide into the driver's seat. Jack grovels, his hands working to slide his seatbelt into the buckle. He has to try to get the lock to latch multiple times, eyes narrowing as he tries to get his vision to focus.
“I’m not whining. I don't know why you're listening to Robby...”
“Jack,” you give him a look, reaching out to pet the sweat slicked hairs at his temple. “Baby, you're burning up. Robby would tell anyone in this state to go home.”
“He's not my doctor.” You sigh and get the car started.
“No. I am now. And as your doctor I need you to sit there and close your mouth so I can drive.”
Jack glares at you, crossing his arms.
“You're a mean doctor.”
“I’m not mean. It’s three in the morning and my husband is acting like he’s not running a 102 degree fever.” Jack shakes his head.
But in spite of his resistance you note the way he slouches into the passenger seat a bit. The way his eyes droop lower and his head begins to rest against the car window.
“This goes against the code of ethics,” Jack mumbles. “Family can't treat family.”
You snort, turning the car out of the parking lot and onto the main street.
“You want to talk about code of ethics? Let’s review what the code of ethics says about treating sick patients while being sick yourself. Have anything to say about that?”
Jack goes silent, the radio static humming quietly in the background. He turns to you, eyelids heavy as he blinks.
“No,” he lets out gruffly.
“That's what I thought.”
Jack trudges into the house like a zombie. You watch him amusedly, his camo backpack slung over one of your shoulders as you push him towards the bedroom.
“I’m not going to bed-”
“No. You're getting in the shower and we're getting your temperature down.” Jack recoils, trying to leave but you push him forward.
He fights it the whole way. Arguing as you make him take off his leg, trying to move your hand away when you help him undress.
Jack is complaining as you get the shower running, your own clothes abandoned in the bedroom and swapped for a pair of shorts and a bra.
“This is overkill, baby. I just need to sleep it off.” You look over your shoulder at Jack where he sits on the closed toilet in nothing but his boxer shorts, shoulders slumped and face lined with exhaustion.
“Oh, you've got something now? I thought it was just allergies?” Jack’s already flushed cheeks turn a shade darker.
“I’m just saying. I don’t need you to worry or fuss over me like I'm some kid. This is nothing-”
“Hey,” you shake your head, drying water droplets off your hand as you move to squat in front of him. “I’m not fussing, Jack.”
“It seems like you are.” You shake your head and sigh.
Always the same, Jack Abbot.
“I know you’re a grown man Jack. I’ve seen you deal with a head cold and fever before. But just because you can work through the pain doesn’t mean you have to.” He opens his mouth to argue again, but you just rest your hand on his bare thigh and give him a look. The kind that always left him quiet and ready to listen. “Jack, I want to take care of you because I love you. You don’t have to power through everything. It doesn’t make you less than to admit you need to rest.”
You know it’s hard for him to listen to that. To actually listen and take it to heart. The fact you wanted to help him. That you didn’t see him as less than for admitting he needed to rest. To admit that, yes. He was sick.
Jack sighs, his forehead coming to rest against your shoulder as he leans into you. You adjust your stance as he lays against you, shifting your arms to embrace him better. The pipes hum gently, steam slowly collecting in the bathroom as the hot shower runs.
You hear him sniffle, his cheek pressing against your arm, his eyes closed as you hold him. He faintly hums with tired pleasure as you run a hand through his sweat matted curls, your gaze soft and comforting.
He swallows thickly, and you note the way he grimaces slightly at the gravelly catch in his voice.
“That feels nice.”
“Yeah?” Jack nods. You continue, just holding him. Letting Jack be still.
“You know what else would feel nice?”
“Sleeping naked with you?” You chuckle softly.
“No. That’s something we can do another night.” Jack frowns. But he can’t be too disappointed. You can tell by the way his eyes are more closed than open that he’s getting a bad headache. “How about I help you in the shower and we get your temperature down. Just enough so you can sleep a little better. Okay?”
Jack doesn’t protest. He lets you help him up and onto the shower bench. Lets you stand there as water runs down his chest and thighs. You run a washcloth over his back and neck, admiring the pattern of freckles that spanned his tan back.
He keeps leaning into you, like his head is too heavy to hold up anymore. Like sitting still has finally let the exhaustion and weariness settle i to him. Jack’s hand is permanently posted on the soft curve of your thigh, holding your leg gently. Like it was grounding him.
When his head finally hits the pillow, after you deemed a dropping temperature of 100.1 was enough to get out of the shower, Jack is out like a light. Not that you’re surprised. You watch him for a moment as you slip out of your wet undergarments, smiling faintly. He seemed so different like this. Peaceful. Not encumbered by the heaviness of the emergency room or the weight of his own memories.
His chest rises and falls steadily, the pair of sweats he’d barely managed to pull on resting low on his hips. You slip into Jack’s old sweater again, reaching out to pull and adjust the covers around him. Jack lets out a quiet breath, his hand catching yours when you are about to walk away.
His voice is barely there, lost to the irritation and mucus clogging his throat.
“You’re not leaving… are you?” You laugh softly.
“I’m coming back, Jack. Just going to get you some extra tissues and water in case you need them.” Jack hums, his eyes already closing again.
“No. I just need you.” You shake your head, opening your mouth to protest when Jack tugs you into bed. “Who’s the doctor here?”
“I thought I was the doctor?” you whisper, crawling over him.
“Well then you’d know…” You frown, settling into bed next to him, keeping a cautious distance because even though you loved Jack, you were not getting sick right now.
“Know what?”
Jack is silent.
You look over at him, repeating your question. But he’s out again, one hand resting in between your bodies. You just shake your head, taking his hand gently into yours and pressing a kiss across his knuckles.
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