#sam abrams

The Warning Signs

Summary: Jay Halstead and Y/N Casey have learned how to handle her epilepsy together—recognizing the signs, preparing for seizures, and riding out the storm as a team. When she feels one coming on during a quiet evening at home, she alerts Jay right away, and they go into action. But when the seizure stretches past the five-minute mark and doesn’t stop, Jay calls 911. Firehouse 51 responds with Sylvie, Violet, Matt, and Kelly, all shaken but determined to help. At Med, Connor is en route—but not fast enough to beat Dr. Sam Abrams, the notoriously snarky neurologist with zero bedside charm. With a mix of medical chaos and sibling emotion, Jay fights to stay calm while Matt and Kelly rally behind him, determined not to let Y/N face this alone.

It had been a peaceful evening—pizza on the coffee table, a fuzzy blanket over their legs, and reruns of Parks and Rec playing softly in the background. Jay had just refilled their drinks when he saw it: Y/N’s shoulders tensing, her jaw clenching the tiniest bit. She shifted on the couch, bringing her knees closer to her chest.

He was beside her in an instant. “Bug? You okay?”

She nodded faintly, blinking slowly as if underwater. “It’s coming,” she whispered, her voice shaky. “One of the big ones. I can feel it.”

Jay immediately went into action, as they’d practiced so many times before. He helped her lie down on her side, slid the cushion under her head, dimmed the lights, and grabbed the emergency pack. Her anti-seizure rescue meds were in the top pocket, just in case.

“You’re safe. I’m right here,” he said softly, brushing her hair off her face.

She gave the faintest nod—then stiffened.

The seizure came fast, violent and sudden. Her body arched, then dropped into rhythmic convulsions, her hands curling tight. Jay watched the clock. One minute. Two. He kept her on her side, keeping the airway clear, whispering her name even though he knew she couldn’t hear him.

Three minutes. He had the meds in his hand but waited—Connor had said to hold unless it stretched past five.

At four minutes, he was on the edge of panic.

At five, he administered the rescue med.

At six, nothing had changed.

At six minutes and forty-five seconds, he grabbed the phone and called 911. “Tonic-clonic seizure, lasting over six minutes. Rescue med given. No response. Patient has epilepsy—this is abnormal.”

Dispatch confirmed help was en route.

He hung up and texted Matt.

Jay: Seizure. Long. Rescue med didn’t stop it. I called 911.

The response was immediate.

Matt: On our way.

It was Sylvie and Violet who arrived first, sirens cutting through the night. Jay flung the door open before they could knock.

“She’s in the living room. Still seizing.”

Violet rushed to start vitals while Sylvie got oxygen and airway support going. “Let’s get her loaded. She’s in status—this isn’t stopping on its own.”

Moments later, Squad 3 and Truck 81 pulled up, and Matt was out before the engine even stopped. Kelly was right behind him.

“Where is she?” Matt demanded.

Jay’s voice cracked. “She’s still seizing, Matt.”

Matt’s expression crumbled as he crouched beside her, brushing her sweat-soaked hair back. “Come on, baby girl. You gotta slow down.”

Kelly’s jaw was tight, but he said nothing—he just helped secure her for transport.

“She’s going to Med,” Sylvie told them. “Connor’s been paged.”

Jay jumped into the ambulance with them. Matt and Kelly followed behind in their rigs, headlights glaring through the back doors like a beacon.

At Med, the trauma team was ready.

But Connor wasn’t the first one in the room.

It was Sam Abrams.

Dr. Sam Abrams, snarky, efficient, and terrifyingly brilliant, strolled in with a tablet in one hand and his trademark sarcasm already dialed up.

“Well,” he said, glancing at the monitor. “Someone decided tonight was the night to test how much cortical electricity the brain can handle. Bold move.”

Jay’s glare could have cracked glass. “Just help her.”

“Already am, Detective,” Sam replied coolly. “We’re stabilizing. Rescue meds failed, so we’re using IV lorazepam and moving to load with Keppra. Airway’s clear for now. MRI after we get her under control, unless Rhodes comes charging in and throws a stethoscope at me.”

Matt and Kelly burst into the trauma bay moments later.

“Abrams?” Matt asked, confused.

“He beat me here,” came Connor’s voice from behind him as he pushed through the door, gloving his hands as he moved. “And apparently still hasn’t learned empathy.”

Sam flashed a grin. “You want charm or survival? I’m here for the latter.”

Connor took over fast, coordinating meds and switching to neuro monitoring. The seizure finally stopped nearly 18 minutes after it began.

Jay collapsed into the chair beside her bed as they prepped her for a neuro ICU transfer.

Matt stayed close, a hand on Jay’s shoulder.

“She’s stable now,” Connor finally said. “It was a long one, but she’s coming around. We’re going to keep her overnight. Monitor for rebound activity.”

Jay nodded, emotion choking his throat.

Sam reappeared at the door, arms crossed. “You did good. Not every partner recognizes the onset cues like that. Most panic. You didn’t.”

Jay blinked in surprise at the rare praise.

“Don’t let it go to your head,” Sam added, smirking. “You’re still not invited to my poker night.”

As the doctors filed out, Kelly crouched beside Jay.

“You did everything right, man. She’s gonna be okay.”

Jay finally let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. Then he turned back to Y/N, brushing her hair back again.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered.

And through it all—he never let go of her hand.

I have a type and its mean doctor's that know what theyre doing in bed and out of it

Tagging: @kmc1989 @caffeinatedwoman @toasted-stiletto @district447 @stelacole

Companion piece to:

The Book Tour - You run into Sam while promoting your new book.

One Night In New York (NSFW) - You and Sam spend the night together in New York.

Six Months - Sam gets a surprise when he returns to Chicago.

Fate - You and Sam were always meant to find each other.

You look stunning in pregnancy. Seven months in and Sam can’t keep his hands or his mouth off you. It’s creating quite the problem this morning as he steps out of the shower because your standing in front of the mirror wearing nothing but a white maternity bra and panties.

“I look like a balloon.” You say, applying cocoa butter to your stretchmarks. Your body shape changing, you expected, this heinous little marks that are blossoming across your skin are something you didn’t plan for.

“You do not look like a balloon.” Sam protests, offended by the notion. He comes to stand behind you, his bare chest against your back as he cradles your stomach between his palms. “You look like a goddess, one who is bringing new life into the world.”

Chicago Med: "The Ghosts of the Past" [5x17]

Working on chapter four of Aidoneus! I am still working on it, Chicago Med has just been bouncing around in my head for so long (and work has been crazy) so it's difficult to nail down. Glad I can finally do this again!

During Sarah’s latest round with neurology, she helped consult on the case of a forty-eight year old woman with a brain tumor. Over twenty years together, three children, and her husband left before they even had a proper diagnosis. “How could he do that?” The young doctor finds herself wondering, not speaking to anyone in particular. “Just go ‘I didn’t sign up for this’ and walk away?” Dr. Abrams was still looking over the imaging when he said: “There’s a saying up in oncology: When the wife gets sick, the husband gets a new wife.” So this is Dr. Reese’ decision: she likes Connor. She will stay in a relationship with Connor. She will even have a baby with Connor. But she won’t sacrifice her independence for him.

Also I just had to include Sam Abrams. He's a bitch. He's arm candy. He's the best neurosurgeon in the hospital. He hates people. He's a girldad. He's my favorite side character and if I knew him in real life I'd probably punch him in the face.