J OVER MY HEART
synopsishi again(im gonna be so annoying with this). i had some voices whisper into my ear about a shared tattoo with jack abbott and wife(pediatrics doctor?) reader? reader and jack having two tattoos. one that everyone would see and the other where only the two of them would. and what if, their marriage is like not known to everyone except for Robby and Dana(?hehehe) request!
warningstattoo talk? general hospital stuff, language, making out, smut-ish
authornotein honour of tom holland and zendaya coming back to screen soon i dedicate the tattoo's to them. i had soooo much fun writing this, i can't believe i'm slowly moving into being a jack girlie. ignore the fact that Jack is for some reason in day shift. this one's for @expreissionism (gif credit to @lauraneedstochill :)
My Pitt masterlist. other Jack fic!
The first time the Pittlings made the connection they thought nothing of it. Some ink swirled around the skin of two doctors wasn't anything, many of them had tattoos themselves.
Doctor McKay had the sort she got in collage and regretted, Robby had one or two that meant something to him, that he'd find himself tracing in times of despair. Doctor Santos had lost count of how many she had and what they all meant.
Javadi herself was pretty terrified at the idea of putting a sharp needle to skin. She was afraid of the permanence of it. The pain.
And her mother finding out.
That was until she spotted yours.
“You have a tattoo,” she noted standing behind you, paying close attention to how you examined the boy in front of you.
You nodded like you weren't trying to listen close down your stethoscope as you asked the boy to breathe in, listening at his back. “I do.”
“That's... really cool,” she said.
You smiled, small. “Thank you.”
Javadi watched your wrist move and arm flex as you put the stethoscope back around your neck, holding onto it either end. She'd called you down for a pedes case but was finding herself distracted by the beauty of the ink on you.
There were hard strokes of black and lighter ones, all drawn around in swirls that came together to make a sun. She thought it looked like the sun from tangled- one of her favourite movies. But you were a grown woman. Maybe you liked the movie as much as she did.
Javadi shook off the idea as you stood, telling the parents what you found. A small crackle in his breathing but as he'd been down with a flu and fever it might not mean anything terrible. Kept for observation and some blood work was ordered before the two of you were slipping away.
“What does it mean?” asked Victoria, hot on your heels as you walked to the nurses station. “The-the sun, I mean? Not crackles in the chest, I-I know that.”
You chuckled, tapping in to chart. Although you worked floors above on the pedes ward, your vintage disney top under the lab coat representing that, you were down enough on emergency and trauma cases to be a familiar and welcome face.
“Oh, you know,” you said, balancing your elbow on the table and checking on the ink. Your lips quirked at looking at it. “Just a little sun, for brightness and stuff.”
Javadi thought it was fitting. You were a sunshine person, hopeful and kind, like a ray of light in the depths of hell she called the ED. She supposed it came with the job, having to be the hope for the sick children.
Everyone down the Pitt could afford to be miserable, with a good enough excuse in working in the emergency department. You were with kids, helping them and their parents through anything minor to the worst days of their lives.
“Kinda, look to the light, kinda thing?” Victoria asked.
You slowly glanced up at her, finding a new perspective. “Yeah. I like that take.”
“Well, well, well,” said a hoarse voice coming closer to the two of you.
Beyond Javadi you looked past her.
Jack Abbot casually strolled over, hands behind his back, arms pulled in tight muscles and freckles in his dark scrubs. “You know, you're down here so often anyone would think you're after a Pedes attending job.”
You rose a brow, challenging him. “Are you offering?”
“Oh yeah, anything to keep sunshine down here.”
You rolled your eyes playfully, leaving Javadi to look between the two of you. She hadn’t realised the two of you knew each other so well.
Sure, you were the first everyone went to for a pedes case but how often was that?
“Sunshine! That’s funny,” said Javadi, standing between the two of you
Jack rose a brow. “It is?”
“Yeah- yeah,” she said with a clear of her throat. “Cause’- she has a sunshine tattoo.”
Jacks lips quirked up to a smirk. “Really?”
You leaned over the counter, chin resting in the palm of your hand. “Yeah. Got it some time ago.”
“Is it somewhere PG-13?” He asked.
“Well to know that you’d have to buy me a drink first.”
“I plan to.”
The two of you shared a smirk.
Suddenly, Victoria thought she was stuck in the middle of something.
It was Whitaker who discovered it next.
He was working with Abbot and Shen on a patient in trauma one, still waiting for the feeling in his feet to return to him after a twelve hour shift. But he wanted to see this patient through first, even if he could have left now the night crawlers had swept in.
He was shooting an x-ray for the guy in a car crash, checking his ribs after being found pressed up against his steering wheel.
Somewhere else you were stitching up his young daughter.
“The car came from nowhere,” fretted the patient, wincing with every breath. “I swear- I swear!”
“Don’t you worry, sir, we’re gonna get you sorted,” assured Jack, peeling off his jacket and replacing it with a vest.
“Is my- is my daughter okay?”
“She just needed a couple stitches,” said Denis.
Jack stretched up, moving the x-ray machine over the patient. “Don’t worry, your daughter is in the best hands. They lumped you with the second best, I’m afraid.”
The patient gave a huff of a laugh that evidently hurt more than anything.
“Okay… shooting!”
Everyone without a vest backed away.
It was at that moment as Jack hovered shooting the x-ray that Whitaker got his first glance at some ink peeking out from his wrist. His watch hid most of what Denis could make out as a tattoo but he thought it strange that Robby should have his own tattoo also typically hidden behind his watch.
Robby and Jack always called themselves brothers, from their years of friendship and shared experiences in the Pitt.
He just hadn’t realised they were that close.
The x ray was quickly done and the machine pushed away as everyone focused on stabilising the man.
A couple broken ribs, a severely bruised chest.
An OR was free to check on any internal bleeding, get the chest sorted.
The doors pushed open and you walked in, a maybe eight years old propped on your hip, little arms hugging around your neck.
Jack’s lips tilted up at once. “Second visit in one day, upstairs must be boring.”
“Well we do like to call this place the circus,” you teased. “This is Mr Peters daughter, she wanted to check in on her daddy.”
Jack tugged off his gloves and Whitaker watched as he approached you and the little girl. “Your daddy is doing fine, he’s strong. I reckon just as strong as you. He’s gonna go upstairs for a closer look but you can go with him, if you like?”
The girl hid her head closer into your shoulder, mumbling something that Whitaker could just about make out.
“Will you come up with me?” She’d asked you.
You bounced her gently. “Course. Upstairs is where all the fun is anyway.”
Jack hummed. “Hm. She has the best candy too.”
Whitaker watched the young girls eyes light up.
As a team from surgery came to drag the father away you followed behind with the daughter in arms, Abbot and Whitaker following out and taking a moment to watch the crowd dissapear.
“Did good in there, Whitaker,” said Abbot, the both of them tearing off their gowns and gloves.
“Thanks,” he said. The both of them went separate ways. Oddly enough, Jack was following in the steps of the team that took up the man and his daughter.
Doctor Robby wondered over, sliding into his seat. If even one of his day shift was left, so was he. It was his own morale code to not go till everyone on day had, Denis was learning.
“Hey,” greeted Denis. “You know I had no idea you and Abbot had matching tattoos.”
“Huh, yeah...” said Robby of absent-mind as he watched the computer. It took him a second to register what he was saying and look up. “Wait, what did you say?”
Suddenly Whitaker felt like he'd said the wrong thing, seeing his attending look over his glasses at him. Maybe nobody was supposed to know? Maybe it was super personal? Or it was a stupid drunk choice they were both trying to forget and he'd just brought it up.
“Oh god, I didn't, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-”
Robby scratched at his beard. “Jack and I do not have matching tattoos.”
“Oh.”
“What made you think that?” he asked. “Did someone... say something?” there was something akin to mischief in his eyes, alight.
“No! No! I just- I saw something that looked like a tattoo under where he keeps his watch, and I know you have one there too. Or- well- don't know but I've- I've seen-”
“Yeah, yeah I've got one there,” said Robby, looking back to the computer bored. “So does Jack. His is a moon. Mine's something to do with my grandmother.”
“A moon? Oh.”
Somewhere beyond Whitaker, past his shoulders, Victoria passed by, catching the conversation.
A moon on one. A sun on another. Interesting.
Samira was only looking for her patient when she found a shirtless Jack Abbot hiding behind the curtain with you standing behind him.
Both your heads shot up when the whirl of the curtain pulled back.
“Oh. I'm sorry,” said Samira. She was only momentarily shocked at Jack shirtless, SWAT gear discarded in the corner and the typical pedes case worker standing behind him, working on a bad obviously over eighteen.
Jack tried to shrug his shoulders but came away wincing. “S'alright.”
“Have you guys seen my patient?” she asked, going on to describe him.
“No, sorry. This room was empty,” you said, rolling a q-tip along Jack's shoulder blade. “Anything you need help with?”
Samira deflated, taking a seat on the chair in the corner of the room. She was feeling sorry for the patient she couldn't get to in time she didn't realise the look you and Jack shared, one of mutual agreement of apprehension.
“What happened to you?” Samira asked.
“He got shot,” you said.
“You were shot?”
Jack made a 'pfft' noise at the two of you. “Shot at. It was nothing. Hardly a graze.”
You scoffed, reaching over for some bandage and applying it to the wound. “I'll be the judge of that.”
“You my doctor now?” asked Jack.
You bit back a smirk. “Someone has to be.”
Samira had worked with Abbot a handful of times, you maybe more on cases with children that required delicate matters. She never realised the two of you were close enough to tease. Close enough that you would be the first person he runs to for help.
Curious, Samira walked around Jack, standing on the other side of his bed as you showed her the wound.
“Oh. Ouch.”
“See?” you said with a raise of your brows.
Jack's freckled arms crossed over his chest in protest.
“You have a chart?” asked Mohan.
“No,” you said. “We're keeping this off the chart.”
Samira nodded, lips quirking. We?
“Don't need the paperwork from the hospital,” said Jack. “Got big plans tonight, can't have paperwork getting in the way.”
“Big plans?” asked Mohan.
Jack hummed in affirmation.
With your careful bandages around his shoulder he stood and reached for his shirt on the side.
It wasn't just a quick glimpse Samira got of where another tattoo lied. It was a long look as Jack made work at pulling over his navy shirt overhead. At the ache in his shoulder you helped pull it over him and he didn't object, he let you help him like it was natural.
But just under his armpit, on the side of his chest there was a clear stroke of black ink in the curves and strikes of a letter. Just one simple there, no bigger than a finger nail next to his heart.
“All good to go solider,” you said, rubbing his un-injured shoulder.
“Thank you, Doc.”
You smirked. “Don't go straining yourself this evening.”
Jack chuckled, low in his throat. “I make no promises.”
It was only when watching the two of you leave that the hole in her heart for her own devoid love life sung with something other that sorrow. With hope and joy. It was only when she noticed Jack's hand linger on the small of your back as he leaned into say something to you that she realised the slope of the letter at his chest matched the very first letter of your name.
A week later and slowly Samira was forgetting the whole thing. Not forgetting the patient that had ran out on her but forgetting the state she found Jack in, forgetting how you helped him and the letter etched into his skin.
She hadn't told anyone either, because what business of others was it.
It wasn't even hers.
Maybe Jack knew someone in the army had the same initial as you. Maybe it was his mothers name. It didn't have to be yours. It was only seeing him shirtless, seeing you with him that had her thinking of you, she was sure.
But a week later she was brought back to that room.
“Woah- what happened to you?” Robby chuckled as you walked through the ED, a mixture of bodily fluids over your scrubs.
“Emergency c-section, twins,” you said. “I had no time for a gown.”
Robby's smile creased as you squelched closer. Your blue scrubs, typically a baby blue, was dyed darker due to blood, amniotic fluids and what he guessed might have been urine. “They didn't call OB?”
“OB was busy, apparently.”
“Apparently?” he asked, tablet in hand as he followed next to you as you walked to the scrub bin. You walked, arms slightly raised to not let them drop. Robby walked close but not close enough to touch the mess of you.
“Someone in OB has it out me.”
“Evil ex?”
“Yeah, one of yours,” you teased.
“Ouch.”
“I'm cranky.”
“I can tell.”
Santos and Samira were on a case together but stopped when they got a look at you. “Woah, what happened? A pile up?”
“Don't ask,” you grumbled.
From behind you Robby mouthed 'twins' and both knew not to say anymore.
“You know we have gowns for such messy procedures,” said Trinity.
You flashed her a grimace. “You're funny, Santos, must get it from this guy,” you said, slapping Robby in the chest as you stood in front of the scrub bins. However, as an official upstairs pedes resident you didn't have authority for more scrubs. “Is Jack around?”
“No,” said Robby, tapping his own ID cared on the pad and getting you an order of scrubs.
“Thanks.”
Samira wondered, briefly why you asked for Jack when it was probably easier to find some woman for your size. Like herself, for instance.
But in seconds you were pulling off your scrub top, leaving you only in a bra. Your scrub pants were next but you had a thin pair of leggings underneath. No one batted an eyes, except maybe Robby who cleared his throat and turned away, hypothetically hiding you behind his back.
“Thanks again, Robby,” you said, gaining his new scrubs.
“No problem,” he said, leaning over to you. “But you can bring this up to Jack,” he added in a mummer that Mohan just caught.
As you reached up, pulling the scrub top over you Samira caught it again. It was a smaller trace, a think line but there with no doubt.
A simple J in black ink in almost the exact spot as Jack had one of his own.
“Is that-” Mohan didn't get the words out before your scrub top was pulled over, swallowing you from Robby's scrub.
Robby and you looked to her as you pulled on the pants. “What?”
They were all looking at her, expectantly.
“No, nothing, it was nothing.”
“Okay, then.”
But now there was a knowing in there. That she didn't believe in coincidences, not when they were etched into skin.
“You look lovely.” Jack crept up behind you, his voice falling upon your ears with his head quick over your shoulder. He was like hot breath on a glass, there and gone the next second.
You understood why. Knew it had been easier to keep it quiet when things were fresh, yet, things had moved on from new and simple a long time ago and neither of you made to say it. Did you get a banner? Make a public announcement? You had no idea how to do it.
Keeping it on the low was all you knew how to do.
And anyhow, it made things far more exciting.
“Thank you,” you said, passing him a quick smile.
Jack hummed, crowding next to you at the station, leaning an arm on the counter and looking you up and down. “You'd look even better in scrubs that were mine.”
Your eyes rolled. “They're Robby's-”
“Robby's-” he scoffed, shaking his head.
“I had a messy C-section and it was this or several bodily fluids.”
“I'd have rather bodily fluids,” he said.
You hummed. “You think that but then you see me and you'd think different.”
“Oh, yeah?”
You turned your attention onto him, knowing he wouldn't give it up till he had it all. It was something about Jack and un-divided attention, he thrived on it. Giving it to you, or taking it from you. He needed it like sustenance. “Think wet. Think baby fluids that should be in a body on me. Think blood. And probably puke on there somewhere too- I don't even know how.”
“And I bet you still looked beautiful,” he said.
“I wouldn't be so sure about that,” you chuckled.
“I would.”
His hand crept up to your ribs, holding there. As if he was anaesthetic himself, his touch was soothing.
He held over where your initial of his name was, just as you did with him where yours was. It still felt fresh though the ink was imbedded into skin for almost a year now.
It was the soft knowledge of carrying each other closer than you already did. Working in the same building wasn't enough, falling asleep next to each and waking up next to each other wasn't enough but the soft initial of each others name might just have been.
Even if it weren't romantical (which it certainly was) the two of you had at least always respected each other in the work setting. It was a bond running deeper than blood, than respect, than love.
Something the people hadn't come up with a word for yet.
Robby passed by the two of them. “I thought you two were being discreet.”
“We are,” you said, you and Jack turning to face Robby as he took his space behind the nurses desk.
“He's all but holding your breast,” said Robby.
“Physical exam,” Jack shrugged. “And I thought I told you to stop making moves on my woman.”
Robby held up his hands in surrender. “I don't want any funny business in my scrubs,” he warned, s sharp look past his glasses at the two of you.
Jack quirked his lips, pretending his innocence. “We'll change into mine.”
You smacked his shoulder.
“Hey,” said Robby, leaning on the counter next to you as if you were all gossiping nurses and not different attendings in your own rights. “You know, Whitaker thinks we have matching tattoos,” he said, nodding to Jack.
You laughed, tilting your head down.
“Oh yeah, I have an R over my heart,” he teased.
Robby scoffed. “Yeah and I got a J on my-”
You looked pointed at them both. “Don't you have jobs to get to?”
Robby surrendered and headed off, making himself busy.
Upstairs would need you soon enough too, there was only so much time you could leave your pedes ward alone. Your hands were gentle on Jacks, squeezing lightly.
Meaning to let go, Jack squeezed and pulled you back.
“Jack? Woah- what- where are we going?”
His thumb worked up and down the back of your hand as he dragged you off. He found an empty room, checking the room before closing the door and pulling the curtains around.
“Jack!”
His hands found their ways up Robby's shirt on your body, pulling at the skin of your waist and drawing you in till he was kissing you, open-mouthed. It was as if he hadn't kissed you that morning, hadn't stole a make out in the car before heading in, hadn't text you in his spare five minutes that he wasn't thinking about you.
He grinned into the kiss, licking into your mouth.
As bad as it was, stealing a kiss in an empty exam room, your hands wound up to his hair, tugging at the strands. Your body curled into his as his hands moved from under your shirt to over, pulling at it.
“Take this off.”
Biting back a smirk you pulled it off you as Jack leant down to kiss at your neck. He bit and sucked, dedicating time to one mark that would be a tattoo on your neck.
Jack was obsessed with marking you, considering you tried you best to be secret.
This wasn't very secret.
“Jack,” you moaned, own hands clawing at his shirt.
He pulled back long enough to toss his off. “When we're done here... when I've made you come on my fingers,” he uttered next to your ear, breath hot. “You're gonna put my scrub top on, you understand?”
Your lips pursed and nodded.
Jack pulled back enough, lips ghosting yours. “Yeah, baby?”
“Yeah,” you whined.
“Yeah.”
His lips crashed into yours again with fire like need. Hie entire body moved over yours, hands steady on your hips to bring you in. You were stumbling around the room, trying to find a wall or bed.
“God,” Jack whined at your lips. “I could eat you.”
He kissed down your neck, over your chest and leant to press a kiss over his initial. He'd been there when you'd gotten it done, as you had when he got his. The two letters in each others hand writing.
Jack came back up and kissed you again before the door sprung open.
“Room three's open why's nobody-”
Jack jumped in front of you like jumping in front of a bullet for you, his arms fell on either side of you, caging you in behind him.
A woman was sat on a gurney, eyes wide at the two of you.
Dana was leading the charge, Mohan, Whitaker and Santos following and eyes falling wide, jaws agape at the sight of you.
Robby walked past, shaking his head and- taking one look at Jack- decided it wasn't a HR nightmare he could deal with.
“We were just...” said Jack, hesitating. “Doing a physical.”
Dana smirked. “I'll say.”
“Sorry, we'll just-” you apologised.
The two of you fumbled with scrub tops but Jack still found enough time in the mess to pass you his own scrub top and take Robby's himself. In sheepish moves the two of you moved by the group, catching only a couple words.
“Did you see those tattoo's?” said Samira.
“Each others inititals, right?”
“How longs this been going on for?”
Jack threw his arm over your shoulder, bringing you in close and peppering a kiss to your forehead. “Guess we told them, huh?”
