#jacksrabbitt

summary: after some coercing from robby and dennis, reader agrees to spend some time at the bar with the Pitt crew after a long shift. what she doesn't expect is to get into a heart-to-heart with none other than jack abbot, reopening some old wounds and healing others.

content warnings: fluff, angst but not as much as the other chapters, nice!jack, y/n used sorry, afab reader, f!reader, reader called 'honey', 'love', and 'baby' by jack, jack called 'jackie' by reader

read... part 1 | part 2 | part 2.5 here!

don't ask how you got here. the only thing you know is that you most definitely would prefer to be anywhere else.

as you sit at the bar alone, surrounded by everyone yet nobody at all, you mutter to yourself: "goddamn robby and dennis... gonna fuckin' kill them."

landing yourself at a bar at 9PM on a friday night, knowing you might get called into work the next morning? not smart. but robby and dennis really know how to work their damn puppy-dog eyes.

you look around, making a mental note of everyone here: trinity, garcia, javadi, mckay, robby, dennis, al-hashimi, and... jack.

you make a second mental note to avoid him at all costs. not that you haven't been doing that since the breakup, but it'll be 10 times harder once there's alcohol flowing through your system.

"i'll just have a vodka coke, please," you say politely to the bartender, handing her your card. "uh, keep the tab open."

your body tenses and your heart drops when you hear that familiar, low voice behind you, which is shouting a bit over the music. "y'know, i'm usually the one paying for your drinks when we come here."

you search the floor frantically, eyes scanning the group of doctors at the pool table, then the other at the darts board, another surrounding the foosball table. jesus, where's dennis when you need him?

"y/n?" jack calls again, voice more polite and kind than you've heard it in a few weeks, at least when it's been directed at you.

you turn to face him, offering a small smile. "yeah, you usually are," you nod, giving the most basic response so as to not feed into his attempt at reconciliation. you've been trying to work on standing your ground, which is usually quite easy. that is until you see his stupidly pretty face, and your composure wavers.

"mind if i take a seat?" he asks, eyeing the barstool beside your own. you give a nod and he sits down, ordering a beer.

its silent between you two for a moment until jack breaks it. "how've you been? the Pitt treating ya okay?"

you nod again, sipping on your drink and looking at something off in the distance. "as good as it always has. i'll be an attending soon, as crazy as it sounds. that is, if robby gives the okay."

"why wouldn't he? you're an outstanding doctor."

you blink, a little shocked at the nicety. "hm?

jack frowns. "what? i said you're an outstanding doctor." he eyes your confused face; he knows your walls are up, he always knows. "what, i can't give you a compliment now just cus we're.. broken up?"

your heart aches violently in your chest. "n- no it's not that! i just... didn't expect it from you, given the circumstances."

"circumstances?"

"ya know. us being exes, how mean you've been while working with me..?"

he sighs, rubbing a rough hand over his face. "ah, honey-" he catches his mistake, also catching the way you blanch. "y/n, i mean. i... i'm sorry if i've been mean."

you feel like you're instantly back to square one, hearing him call you 'honey' in that gentle, rough voice. oh, how you've missed that. "just.. to be frank, jack, it really hurt. that's all. i was somewhat excited to work with you and you just... i dunno. i'm being dramatic, sorry."

"no, you're absolutely right," he murmurs, not making eye contact with you. "it's just... it was so hard, seeing you so confident, so in your element. it was really a smack in the face, showing me how much of you i've missed.

i met you when you were still in med school, interning at PTMC. and now look at you, baby, you're almost an attending," you catch his 2nd slip-up, but don't say anything. after all, you enjoy hearing him call you 'baby' again. "i was supposed to be there for you, to guide you through your residency. but i wasn't."

he pauses for a moment, and you watch as his eyes flick all over your face, as if he's trying to memorize it. you swear you hear him whisper a pretty lady... under his breath.

"i couldn't stop snapping at you. and believe me, it killed me inside. i- i don't know why i did it, honey," he sighs deeply.

you frown, eyes big with understanding. "oh, jack..." you mutter. you hate to forgive the man after he broke you heart but that's still your baby. even if he is 20 years older than you.

"hey," you reach out a hand, placing it on his forearm. you both react to the touch, feeling as if sparks of electricity are running through your entire body. "i... it's okay. honestly, it hurt in the moment but, i don't want you to feel like you can't talk to me anymore, jack."

his arm twitches under your touch, and he covers your hand with his own, testing the waters. you don't reject the touch, so he opts to hold your hand. "i wanna fix things with you," he says. "i know it's been a while since we last were, i don't know, close, but... i really wanna get to know you again.

i know you've definitely changed since i left. i mean, look at you. you're such a beautiful young woman...," his eyes dart over your face again. "i want to know the new version of my y/n. the girl who's grown and matured and become such a successful physician."

you don't notice the tears welling in your eyes until jack's thumb is brushing under your eye, catching the tear that's about to fall. "no tears, hon. cmon, say something for me."

you sniffle, breathing out a soft laugh. you feel so safe, safer than you've felt in a bit, you realize. "i want that, too, jackie. you don't even understand. i've missed you so much."

he chuckles. "you didn't lose my number, right?" you shake your head. "good. i'll text you tomorrow morning; we're getting lunch on wednesday."

you giggle softly. "we are now?

he nods, wiping another tear from your cheek. "no crying at the bar," he reiterates, bringing your glass to your lips. "cmon, have some of your vodka coke, then let's go play darts or something."

"i beat you at darts any day!"

he laughs. "i started playing darts before you were born, love. believe me, you don't."

"so, can i get drunk now and not have to worry about admitting to your face that i miss you?" you ask with a smile.

as you both stand up, he guides you with a hand on the small of your back, leading you both to the dart board. "sure, honey. i can be your DD."