#dismissed

He shook his head as he led you to his truck. The drive to your school was pleasant and short, taking just 15 minutes. When you reached the school, you leaned over and gave Jack a brief but warm kiss. He squeezed your hand before letting you hop out.

"I should be finished and all wrapped up by 3." You smiled before closing the door.

You walked to your classroom 15 minutes before class started. You walked in, discarding the tin foil—your breakfast long since devoured. Your co-teacher watched as you settled in, pulling the work folders for your first morning group. He didn't say anything, but after a few minutes, he went back to organizing his files.

When the bell rang, you waited for the morning announcements to finish before retrieving your morning group. Everything passed by smoothly. A few of your students asked why you were absent the day before, and you gave them the good old "I wasn't feeling too well, but I'm fine now." With a placative smile.

As your lunch hour approached, your phone buzzed in your pocket. You waited until the group left to check it. It was a missed call and a text message. The text was from Jack, letting you know he was gonna swing by on your lunch hour. You smiled at the message before replying.

Y: You're too sweet. Thank you baby <3.

After the message was sent, you pulled up your call log and saw it was from your mom, and she left a voicemail. 'Great’, you thought as you tapped the voicemail icon and brought the phone to your ear.

'Oh, Missy. I can't believe you. I had to hear from Shae that you fainted?? She told me everything-*sigh* I'm not mad... I'm just worried. I hope you're doing better. Please call me back when you have a chance.' There was a softness in her voice. She wasn't mad at you; she was mad at the situation, the doctor. You made a mental note to call her back when you got home.

11:50 am. You glanced up at the classroom clock and smiled, it's lunch time. One of the other co-teachers assigned to the room looked over at your smiling face, "Are you that excited for the microwaved burritos?" She joked.

"Haha, no. Jack's coming for lunch." You beamed, standing from your desk, grabbing your badge, keys, and phone. You gave them a small wave before heading out the door and down the hall. You got to the gate at the end of your hall, a big sign zip-tied to it reading 'Exit. Please shut fully'. It led out to the faculty/visitor lot. There, parked straight ahead of you, was Jack. You walked out to him, and he stepped out of his truck. His hand found your hip as you got closer, pulling you into him, "Hello, Gorgeous." He kissed you, the warmth of his lips leaving sooner than you wished. But you were hyper-aware of where you were and what time it was. The faculty half of the lot budded up against the school's field, and it was lunch time for the students as well. The elementary students were already let loose from the lunchroom and running wild through the field with their equipment. You could spot a few of your younger students.

You and Jack sat on the tailgate, eating the small lunch he had brought. You were eating mostly in silence, a few words passed between the two of you— him asking how you were feeling, you telling him you were slightly dizzy every so often, but nothing serious. He paused for a second, “Hey, you wouldn’t happen to know why Mapel is hoarding my socks, would you?”

“What?... Oh man, and here I thought she outgrew that.” You feigned shock, bringing your hand to your forehead. Jack didn’t believe you one bit.

It had lulled into a calm quiet when you heard a sweet voice yell out, "Ms. Quip?" Ms. Quip!" You looked over and saw one of your 5th graders waving like a madwoman, her braids flopping about as she did.

You waved back, giving her a smile, "Hi Zoey."

"Ms. Quip? Huh?" Jack noted. He hadn't heard the nickname your students called you, and you had never brought it up.

"Yeah... They call me 'Ms. Quip, or 'Ms. E'." You could feel the question he was thinking, "'Ms. Quip' because I joke with them, and 'Ms. E'...like encyclopedia. Because I know a lot of random facts." You admit, a bit of embarrassment blooming in your stomach.

Your attention was pulled back to the fence line, "Ms. Quip! Is that your husband?" The question made your ears burn, "He's really cute." She continued.

"Oh, dear." You chuckled, shaking your head, "Zoey, go enjoy your recess." At that, Zoey giggled, giving one last wave before running off.

"Sorry about that, she's one of my students who loves personal questions."

"Don't be, she seems sweet." Jack smiled, taking a bite of his sandwich.

"She is."

He swallowed his bite before a cheeky smirk formed on his face, "Besides...it doesn’t sound bad."

His comment caught you mid-sip of your water, you coughed a bit, the water dribbling down the side of your mouth, "Well, I guess you wouldn’t be that terrible." You fired back, wiping the water from your face.

"I don’t think so." He reached for your hand, intertwining your hands together. The two of you had talked about the future—in a hypothetical third-person sort of sense–, how he didn't want to hold you back from living your life, and how you weren't being held back. You just weren't the extroverted type. You were happy with him, and honestly, as lovely as the idea of marriage was, you would've been ok without it, and Jack knew that. You knew he'd been married before you, and widowed. You didn't/wouldn't blame him if he never wanted to do the whole marriage-thing again.

"Oooooh, Ms. E and the strange man are making googly-eyes at each other." The middle-schoolers were let out, fun.

You laughed again, a pink hue creeping up Jack's neck, "Huh. I didn't know you could do that." You teased, not acknowledging the warmth brewing in your chest.

12:40 pm. When you were finished with your lunch, having redirected the middle schoolers back to theirs. Jack said goodbye, confirming your pickup for 3. You walked back onto campus, towards your classroom, when one of your 6th graders ran up to you.

"Ms. Quip! Ms. Quip!" He was panting, like he'd run from the field to your class. "Was that your boyfriend?" His eyes were big, waiting for your response.

You chuckled, "Yes Max-"

He spun on his heels and shouted down the open hall, "SEE I TOLD YOU GUYS!" Before taking off again.

You entered your classroom. There were only a few minutes left before their lunch would end, and you'd have to pick up the afternoon group.

The afternoon group came and went without any fanfare. But the students were exceptionally giggly today. When the time came for the other set of teachers to release their group, one of them rounded the partition and smiled at you cheekily, "So I heard the kids met Jack."

There was a beat before your face burned, "Yeah... that was fun... I expect I'll be the talk of the school before the day is over."

"Oh Honey, you're already there." She shook her head before walking away, a smile plastered on her face.

3:00 pm rolled around before you knew it. You were cleaning up your folders, filing away some of the completed work, when your phone buzzed. A text bubble popped up on your screen:

J: I'm parked where I was before. Don't rush. I don't mind waiting ;)

You typed back a quick:

Y: I'll be right out, just putting away my files <3

You pocketed your phone, grabbed your bag, keys, and badge. You gave a quick wave goodbye to the teachers in the room and made your way to the exit gate. Just like he said, Jack was parked in the same spot, except this time he was standing outside of his truck, leaning against it. It looked like a scene out of an 80's rom-com.

As you walked up to Jack, he reached forward, grabbed your bag from you, and put it in the truck. He walked you over to the passenger side and opened the door for you to get in. You nodded a 'thank you' as he closed the door and headed to the driver's side. When he sat down and started his truck, you hummed, "You are the talk of the school." Pausing for a moment before adding, "I had 3 girls from my afternoon groups asking me tons of questions about you." The teasing tone in your voice reddened his ears.

"I could really give them something to talk about." Jack chuckled as he pulled you in for a quick peck.

"Oh my god," you squealed, pressing lightly against his chest. The smile on his face was bright, reaching his eyes.

"C'mon Ms. Quip, lets get you home."

"Oh, don't you start." You groaned as you buckled yourself in.

The drive back home was a bit longer, thanks to after-school traffic and all that. Neither of you minded, though. Jack waited patiently, his hand resting on your thigh. You were down the street from your home when you felt a growing pulse behind your eye, like someone was squeezing the back of your eyeball. You pitched forward, a wincing inhale tensing your body. Jack glanced over at you and paused at a stop sign. He mumbled your name, and then the world tilted. You braced yourself, one hand against the door, the other letting go of Jack's hand to press against your temple. The car swerved, and you heard Jack slam the car's gear into park. He unbuckled himself and threw open his door, rounding the car as fast as he could. He opened your door and knelt down, his hands cupping your face, "Hey, sweetheart? What's wrong?"

Dr. Abbot was present. You took a moment. Staggered breaths, shaking your chest as you tried to find a balance. "I-I- my eyeballs feel like they're gonna pop." Your hand pressed against your left eye, "...and I feel like I'm being bounced around a wave-pool."

"Ok, breathe."

"I know Jack." Your tone was sharp; you were annoyed. But not with him, with yourself, your body. A tear slipped down your cheek, there was a sense of weakness building in your body, "Fuck... I'm sorry. I'm not-"

"It's ok, sweetheart. Let's get you home, and I'll take care of you." He placed a gentle kiss against your temple, closed the door, and stepped away, getting back behind the wheel.

3:35 pm. You were slumped against the couch with Maple curled against you. Ibuprofen taken, instant espresso downed, swiftly followed by a glass of water. Jack was in the kitchen, grabbing you something to eat and your ice pack. He, as a doctor and your boyfriend, found your little regimen for migraine attacks both cute and impressive. You had told him the first time he witnessed it, 'Each step has a purpose: pain meds or triptans because drugs are nice, caffeine incase it's caffeine related, water, usually with a hydration packet because electrolytes, food, because sometimes I'm hungry and my body can be that dramatic, ice pack at the back of my neck for the blood flow, and a nap, because again dramatic body and I sometimes need sleep. And normally by the time I've awoken from said the migraine is much more manageable or sometimes, completely gone.'

Curled up on the couch, your knees bent towards your chest, you untucked yourself when Jack entered with a cup of vegetable soup and your ice pack. You adjusted the ice pack against the back of your neck, and the cold sensation felt amazing against your neck. The soup was eaten, and you were getting ready to take a nap, cuddled up next to Jack, Maple included. The buzz of your phone elicited a groan from your lips, "You know who it is?" Jack asked as you reached into your bag for your phone.

"It's my mother. She called me earlier 'bout the fainting... she wanted me to call her back."

Jack slipped the phone from your hand, "I'll talk to her, you get comfortable. You, keep her company. " He pointed at Maple (who you swear can understand you), before he stepped into the kitchen, not wanting the conversation to keep you awake.

He slid his finger across the screen to answer the phone, your mom's voice starting before a 'hello'.

"Young lady I can't believe you-"

"Sorry,” Jack cut in, “It's Jack. She's resting."

"Oh, hi Jack... How's she doing? Is she ok?"

“She's ok. She's taking a nap right now."

"I'm sorry I don't mean to...*sigh* I'm worried about her... And that damn doctor, they never listen!" There was a pause, and she gasped, "Oh-not you, Jack. I'm sure-I-"

"It's ok. I'm not offended." And truthfully, he wasn't; he knew the kind of doctor he was. He listened to his patients; he cared.

Your mom sighed again, exasperation leaking through the phone, "This happened last time too... Her primary didn't believe her, but he referred her to a neurologist at my insistence. Her Neurologist referred her to a Cardiologist... They ran so many tests... and in the end, they couldn't give us an answer. Her Neurologist gave her an informational sheet about Syncope... but they couldn't tell us anything more." Her voice wavered some more; he could hear in her voice that she was trying not to cry, "I know me, and her don't always get along... But she's my baby... I just want her to be safe, healthy, and happy. Please take care of her."

Jack peeked through the kitchen doorway, finding you fast asleep on the couch. "I will." He wavered a bit before telling your mom, "I also want all those things for her. And I'll be damned if some thoughtless doctor jeopardizes her health."

Your mother's voice softened, "What can she do?"

"Well, I went to talk to that doctor," Jack's voice got quieter; he didn't want to risk you overhearing what he was about to say. A dry chuckle broke through as he recalled his afternoon while you were at work.

Armed with your discharge packet and the doctor's name, he walked into Presby. He walked straight to the main lobby and spoke to the clerk at the front desk, "Hi, I'm here from PTMC, Dr. Jack Abbot. I'm looking for a Dr. Stein. I had a patient transfer care over, and I wanted to ask him some questions and confer with him about any care plans he put in place." The nurse nodded and called for the doctor.

"You're lucky, he was about to leave." The nurse smiled, "If you wanna take a seat he'll be right out."

Jack nodded a ‘thank you’ and took a seat in the waiting area. He wasn't waiting long before a doctor walked into the lobby. Jack looked at the doctor. He looked older than him. And he walked with a sense of importance and ignorance, "Dr. Abbot, what brings you to Presby?"

"I had a patient come in, transfer her care over and she gave me discharge packet. Your name is listed as the doctor on file. I just wanted to touch base with you and pick your brain for any spare notes." Jack handed over the packet, your name printed on the front page.

The other doctor took one look at the name, glanced at the 2nd page with the diagnosis and discharge instructions. Waving his hand off, he handed the packet back to Jack, "Ah, yes, she came in 12 hours after she 'fainted'. That's 11 hours too late. What was she expecting us to find? But we followed protocol nonetheless. Ran an EKG, blood panel, and urine. You know young women. Dramatic and whatnot. She was merely dehydrated, and what she described wasn't too alarming." Each insult he spoke about you tested Jack's resolve, not just as your boyfriend but also as a doctor. How could this man stand here and actively dismiss your symptoms?

"I looked at her test results. Nothing in there seemed conclusive enough to diagnose dehydration. Not to mention she sat in your ED for 4 hours with migraine symptoms, and if you were so sure she was dehydrated, why didn't you start her on fluids? She came in with loss of consciousness, a migraine, vertigo, and nausea. You presumed with her age and sex that it was either a 'heavy period' or dehydration. As doctors, we are supposed to listen to our patients. What good are you as a doctor if you are going to dismiss your patient and their symptoms? I read through all her results and your notes. Did you even recommend she contact her neurologist and have an EEG done? Did you even consider the patient's history?" His voice wavered between stern disbelief and anger, and then settled into a quiet, calm rage. He knew shouting at him wouldn't get his point across, but the thought of him dismissing you burned his skin, inside and out. "She presented with those same symptoms earlier today."

Dr. Stein looked both offended and embarrassed by being confronted out in the open. He stammered a defense, but Jack cut him off, "I should report you. I know a few people who'd just love to hear how you treat your patients." Jack threatened. His grip on your discharge packet was taut as he stormed out of the hospital.

"You're so good for her." Your mother praised, "Was that you speaking on her behalf as a doctor or her boyfriend?" Your mother's tone shifting.

"Yes." Jack smiled as he peeked out of the kitchen, finding you still asleep.

"Well, I won't keep you." Your mom's smile came through the phone, "I'll let you get back to her, tell her I love her when she wakes up, please."

Jack gave a small "Of course" before hanging up. He put your phone down on the coffee table and gently lifted you to situate himself behind you at the corner. He kissed your forehead, lingering there for a second.

"Thank you." You whispered through your sleep, "For standing up for me... You didn't have to."

Of course, you had heard him. "I did, sweetheart. I want you to be happy, safe... and healthy. Your doctors listening to you matters." He held you tighter, as you snuggled yourself closer to his chest.

"Mmm-You sound like my mother." You hummed.

"Who said she loves you.” He countered. “And I love you too sweetheart." Jack chuckled, "Now go back to sleep."

"Yes sir, Dr. Abbot."