frozen in time

pairing: jack abbot x michael robinavitch x reader

a/n: tysmm anon for this request!!! you all seem to be enjoying the angst so i hope you'll enjoy this!

Jack Abbot stands in the living room of your shared apartment.

The room was silent, a stark contrast to the usual sounds of a movie playing and your sweet giggles as Robby or Jack made a stupid joke.

Robby stands in the kitchen. His elbows rest against the island. He exhales sharply and runs his hands over his hair.

You had stormed out of the apartment a few moments prior.

The argument had blown so far out of proportion.

Robby came home from a very shitty day at work last night. You could see the exhaustion in his eyes, the tension in his shoulders.

He was a ticking time bomb.

It had started with a passing comment from Robby the next morning. You were showing Jack a beginner crochet kit you wanted to buy. This was not out of the ordinary at all.

You picked up new hobbies at least twice a month. Pottery, scrapbooking, gardening, yoga, painting, photography, the list went on.

And you loved them all! And so did Jack and Robby.

When you were going through your cooking phase, both of them loved tasting your new recipes.

It took you a while to get good but they were both supportive no matter what.

But earlier, with Robby in a bad mood, he muttered out something about how you need to get better at your other hobbies first, before you go spending money on some other thing.

Jack was at your defence. He didn’t come at Robby straight away but he told him that there’s no harm in any of your hobbies and it’s good for you to learn more things.

“Oh please, drilling a hole through my wallet is what it’s doing.” He murmured, lifting the beer to his lips.

That’s when Jack snapped. The two bickered back and forth as their voices raised. And from there it spiralled out of control.

You stood up and tried to cut through their loud barks of insults.

You were getting pissed at Jack, as each time Robby tried to walk off to the bedroom, Jack would yell something else which would only keep the argument flowing.

And you were pissed at Robby because he’d turn back with more harsh words.

“Jack stop it! Let him cool off.” You say, hand on your hip.

Jack opened his mouth to respond but Robby cut in.

“Oh yeah cause that’s what I need to do. This whole thing wouldn’t be happening if he had chilled the fuck out!” Robby bites back.

You hated fighting. You hated the yelling and the words being spewed.

“Just stop it! Please!…god.” you sigh, exhausted.

They stopped for a moment as their eyes landed on you.

Something flash in their eyes maybe humility? Guilt?

But it didn’t matter.

You were sliding on your shoes and leaving though the front door before they could say anything.

They wanted to go after you. To apologise and tell you they were in the wrong but they didn’t.

They wanted to respect your space and let you have some time to yourself but also because both of them were stubborn and would never admit that.

They didn’t have time to discuss anything. They were still pissed at eachother but they had to get to work. So they moved around the apartment getting ready and silently hoped that you’ll come back before they have to leave.

They hold off for as long as they can but ultimately, can’t wait any longer and they leave for their shift.

Jack is off his game. His co-workers presume it's because he is working a day shift. A drastic change in routine could do that to someone, but that wasn’t it at all.

Robby is noticeably exhausted. Dana realised he was off first, of course. Threw a quick ‘penny for your thoughts?’ his way and he didn’t even give her a second glance.

Jack had enough and pulled Robby aside a while ago. Telling him they both fucked up, and they needed to let you know how sorry they were.

Dana’s voice interrupted them. “Sorry to interrupt. Pedestrian motor vehicle collision incoming. ETA 3 minutes.”

They both nod and hold their conversation to start making their way to the ambulance bay, snapping on gloves with a practiced ease as they see the ambulance pull up. The tires screech as it abruptly breaks.

The gurney is quickly pushed in by paramedics. “Female, mid 20s, got struck by a Chevy Colarado at high velocity. BP is 193 over 120. Was found unresponsive.”

They approach the speeding gurney after they retain the information.

They both come to a halt when their eyes flick up to the face in a cervical collar. The air is taken from their lungs as they look at your unconscious form.

Your face was paler than they’d ever seen it, the blood that covered a portion of your face had matted your hair to your forehead.

Jack feels bile rising to the back of his throat the longer he looks at you. He had been running his fingers through your soft hair just hours prior.

Robby’s eyes search over your body in a panic, taking in what your body had endured.

A gauze is being held to your head in an attempt to stop the extensive bleeding, your leg had a long gash, from your knee to your ankle, fragments of pebbles and tar etched into it.

You’re sped into Trauma two and Robby and Jack can’t even speak.

The next 30 minutes are spent pouring every ounce of dedication and panic into getting you stabilised.

They take over for each other when they see the others hands shaking as they work on you.

“Cmon, sweetheart, cmon.” Jack whispers to himself as he watches your monitor like a hawk, waiting for some sign that you’re improving.

Then the flatline sounds throughout the room, like a waling scream.

They have heard the sound so many times that it has stopped affecting them so intenseley like it had in the earlier years of their careers.

But now, here, knowing that its you hooked up to that monitor, it feels like they're hearing it for the first time all over again.

"She's in V-Fib!" one of the doctors announces.

Robby freezes. His trembling hands stop, as a doctor pushes past him to start chest compressions.

His eyes meet Jack's and he swears he's never seen as much fear in his eyes than in that moment.

One of the doctors yells for the rest to clear as the charge of the defibrillator courses through your body. The room falls into silence as everyone awaits the sound of your heartbeat to return on the monitor.

When it doesn't, Jack has to choke back a sob.

They charge up another round, and the both of them wait with baited breath.

Then, as if the universe had heard their silent pleading, you're monitor spiked.

Robby sobs in relief before quickly moving back in to assure your stabilised.

After some time passes, and the doctors get you intubated and stabilised, Jack and Robby step out of the room as you're wheeled off to ICU.

They walk into a vacant room and the dam breaks. Robby is first to let out a sob. His hands at join at the back of his head as he tries to take deeper breaths.

Jack plants a firm hand on Robby's shoulder and pulls him into a hug.

"It's...It's alright man, she's gonna be okay." Jack manages to choke out through sobs.

Robby takes some shaky breaths, squeezing his eyes shut as he nods.

The next two days, Robby and Jack each take shifts going home to get showered and grab to some food before returning to your room in the hospital where you're still asleep.

The lower half of your body in covered in your favorite blanket from home, two chairs are pulled up right to either side of the bed, where they have both been sleeping.

Well, sleeping wasn't exactly the right word to use.

They would doze off for maybe ten minutes at a time before inevitably waking up. They couldn't sleep when the image of you, so weak and fragile, was a constant at the forefront of their minds.

You weren't intubated anymore, which was some form of relief for them. And, yes, you were improving but it didn't make this any easier.

When you wake up, you squint immediately, the fluorescent lights above you sent a dull ache to your head.

Hearing a wince, Jack's head snapped up instantly.

He was on his feet before he could even think. He turned down the harsh lights above your bed.

"Oh, sweetheart.." he starts, swallowing the lump in his throat before his medical instincts kicked in.

"Do you remember what happened?" he asks, his voiced laced with a type of gentleness that could make you cry.

You open your mouth, and it feels so dry that when you swallow, it burns.

"The truck." you muster up just enough strength to say.

His eyes briefly glance down as he pages Robby.

"Yeah, yeah, that's right. You uhm...you were hit, and-and you were really really hurt." he chooses his words carefully as to not overbear you with anything and scare you, but also because it physically sent a pain through his chest trying to speak about what actually happened to you.

Robby bursts through the door with an urgency you have never seen before.

"Honey, oh god." he places his hand on your head so gently, you just about felt it.

"Are you hurting anywhere?"

You take in a shallow breath. "My-My ribs..."

Jack nods. "Yeah, you broke three of them. I'll get you some more pain meds."

After, you were examined, and were put on more pain meds, you were now sat with them both, the tv played on low volume in the corner of the room.

"Baby...we want to apologise for the fight, the last day." Jack starts.

"We were in the wrong and we never should've- I never should've taken my anger out on you. We feel terrible and-...seeing you, come in here..." Robby pauses as his voice cracks.

"There's going to be no more fighting like that. If any of us are ever feeling pissed off or-or anything like that, we'll talk it out, no matter what. Alright?"

You nod. "I forgive you both and I don't want you both beating yourselves up over it."

Jacks quickly wipes a tear from his face as he lifts your hand to his lips, and kisses it, despite the clunky pulse oximeter adorning your finger.

Robby stands up and presses a long kiss to your forehead. "I love you so much, honey." he says softly, his cheeks still wet with tears.

"I love you both too, i regretted not saying it before I left but I was too pissed off to even think." you sniff.

"We're here now, we'll always be here for you."

The following days in the hospital consist of them constantly checking in.

Not allowing you to eat any of the hospital food, only ordering you stuff from your favorite restaurants, bringing you your stuffed animals and books from home.

You tried to convince them to go home for a good nights sleep and some time away from the hospital to which they agreed to only because they new Robby would be there for you during the day, and Jack at night.

You were comfortable there, I mean, how could you not be?

You had the two best doctors in the world.

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crash and burn

pairing: rabbot x reader

a/n: hello!! thank u sm for the request <3 I'm not too proud of this one but we ball :)

You don't know how long you've been here.

You don't know what time it is, or how many casualties you have seen.

Pittfest had been so highly anticipated over the last few weeks; hearing your patients gush about the outfits they were going to wear, and performers they were most excited to see.

Cut to now, you were gliding your scissors through the sleeve of a casualties sweater. The entire hospital bay was utter chaos. The sound of gurneys racing though hallways, staff barking orders to anyone who could hear, and the relentless hum of machinery and high pitched beeps.

You didn't have time to even think about the deep wounds you had fought so hard to get under control, until sweat covered your forehead, only for the patient to succumb to their injuries.

You don't spare a glance towards the blue latex covered hands that work at a frantic speed right beside you, as your focus is zeroed in on the patients wound that was profusely bleeding.

You couldn't even hear yourself as you ordered for someone to push another ten cc's of saline.

You were essentially on autopilot. The volume surrounding you had gotten so loud that it almost sounded like white noise.

Raw, gutteral screams echoed against the walls of the ER.

After the casualty is just about stable, you look up to the ambulance bay entrance. The gurney skids inside like a bullet.

You snap on new gloves with a practised ease, as you rush over, hearing another set of feet hot on your tail. Jack imediatley scans the patient and slaps a red band onto his wrist. "Trauma two." he instructs, presumably to you.

His words landed, but the meaning lagged...like a glitch in the system.

Your fingers hovered over his chest, already asessing the injury before Jack even finished speaking.

This routine never stopped.

The words came at you like bullets. “Pressure here,” “Call for blood,” “He’s crashing.” They entered one ear, but by the time they reached your brain, they were already in action.

The concerned glances between Jack and Robby registered somewhere in the back of your mind, but they were just flickers on the edge of your vision.

It was background noise in a storm.

You barely notice the way Robby’s jaw tightened when you didn’t react to his voice, or how Jack’s brows knit together when you moved to the next gurney without a word.

You have all finally caught up with the gurneys that were piled just in the door, not that the chaos has died down or anything but it was less daunting without the buildup.

Jacks hand clamps down on your shoulder, strong enough to ground you for a moment. "Hey."

His voice broke through the overbearing noise.

"Breathe. You will be of no use to those patients if you don't take care of yourself." he says, his voice raw, but insistent.

Robby approaches from behind Jack, his dark eyes scanned over your face, as if searching for the person buried underneath everything.

"Honey, we've got this." he says, his voice low and urgent. "Take five. Go get some water, eat something." He orders as he fished a protein bar out of his pocket.

You heard them.

But knowing that there were people out there. People bleeding out, separated from family, in pain, was enough to immediatly counter-act the consideration of taking a break.

The adrenaline was still pumping, the weight of the last hours pressing down like a physical force.

"I'm fine." you mutter, already backing away.

They didn’t stop you. They couldn’t. Not when you were already turning toward the next patient.

As your walking, you're suddenly acutely aware of your breathing, and the numb, tingly sensation coursing through your fingers.

You quickly lift your head at the sound of a gurney racing against the cold linoleum, and regret it instantly. The edges of your vision blur. Your fingers, usually so steady, trembled as this wave hit you suddenly.

Your breathing comes too fast, too shallow, as if your lungs have forgotten how to work.

Your hand presses against your chest in a panic. Your knees buckle, just enough for Jack and Robby to notice.

Robby's arms are around you before your body could hit the ground.

"Shit. Shit! C'mon sweetheart. You're okay." Jacks voice is gruff and laced with panic. His hands cup your face, now noticeably pale and clammy.

Your eyelids flutter, but the world tilts dangerously.

The bay spins around you; gurneys, bloodstained floors, the fluorescent lights too bright. Your chest heaves, and it feels like you are drowning, like every breath is a struggle. Your hands, still clad in bloodied latex, shake violently, the tremors traveling up your arms and into your shoulders.

"She's not responding. We need to get her out of here, now." Jack speaks, his usual stable voice couldn't hide the concern rushing through him right now.

Robby doesn't miss a beat, as he scoops you up into his strong arms, eyes scanning for any vacant spot in the ER.

"Jack, stay out here. They need you. I'll come get you if anything happens." Robby says.

He could see the hesitation in Jacks eyes as they scan your form before he ultimately gives a short nod.

Robby moves with speed, despite carrying your dead weight in his arms.

You groaned as consciousness trickled back, the sterile scent of the hospital flooding your senses. The noise of the ER hit you like a wave, but something was different.

The chaos has dulled. The bay wasn't empty but it wasn't the battlefield it had been earlier. The triage area looked more organized, patients sitting in chairs with blankets, blood that painted the floor previously was gone.

Jack suddenly comes around the corner and once he sees you awake, he quickly reaches you. "Hey, hey, take it easy." he says, gently resting his hands on your shoulders to stop you from sitting up.

"You passed out, sweetheart. How are you feeling?" he asks, his voice laced with care.

"I'm..M'fine. I..." you let out a sigh.

I mean, were you?

"God, you had us so worried, baby." Jack admits, as his thumb absentmindedly soothes over your hand.

"I'm sorry." you apologise, feeling bad for adding extra stress to them in an already hectic situation.

Robby's gaze catches yours from across the bay and he doesn't waste a second to get over to you and Jack.

"Hey, honey. How are you doing?" he asks softly, as his large hand softly cards through your hair.

"I-I'm okay, I should get back-"

"No." They both cut you off in sync.

"They'll be sending us home soon enough, just wait it out and we'll go straight back home then. Alright?" Robby insists.

You want to argue. To tell them that wasn't neccesary, but one look at them and you could tell they weren't letting up.

Even though they were working on reorganizing the entire ER, somehow they made time to drop of a sandwich and jello cups, water,and press kisses to your forehead.

When they were told they could head home, they quickly make their way to you and you've never been more glad to walk out of that place.

The walk to the car was slow, your legs unsteady beneath you. The night air was a shock after the sterile heat of the ER, the cold biting at your skin was oddly comforting.

Jack’s hand is warm around yours, his grip firm, grounding. On your other side, Robby’s fingers laced through yours, his thumb tracing slow circles over your knuckles.

The ride back to the apartment is quiet. Not the tense, awkward kind, but comforting. The quiet you all need.

Jack, from his position in the passengers seat, has his hand extended into the back where you are sat. Your hands are joined and you feel somewhat at peace, finally.

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a/n: hii!! you guys seem to like my younger!gf!reader texts so i shall keep you fed ( ˶˘ ³˘)♡

part one! part two!

masterlist here!!

part one! part 3!

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reposts, comments and likes are very much appreciated

a/n : hii!!!! this is my first post on tumblr so i'm kinda confused by it all ( ._. ), also i'm very new to the fandom :) I hope you all enjoy this and let me know what you think! bye◝(ᵔᗜᵔ)◜

part 2! part 3!

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reposts, comments and likes are very much appreciated!!

jack abbot who prevented going to the beach with you for as long as possible as he felt insecure about his prosthetic. realising he couldn't really go swim in the ocean with you made him feel ashamed in a way he never should've felt. to him, it felt like a reminder he was 'slowing you down'. once you learn this information you're distraught and reassure him as best as you can, and assure him you love him for him.

jack abbot is veryyy ontop of sunscreen and drinking water. this man will have you waiting ten minutes for your sunscreen to fully dry in before you go back into the water.

jack abbot who when you come back from swimming with a cut on your knees, he's immediately assessing the situation as if you just stumbled into the ED with a gaping open wound.

jack abbot who gawks at you with no shame when your sunbathing. those little bikinis, that he bought with you the week previous, adorning your body was a sight to see.

banoffee cupcakes

older!bf!jackabbot x younger!gf!reader

a/n: hii!!! tysm for this request<3 you're so sweet! i may have freeballed a little bit but i hope you enjoy :)

Today was going great. You had woken to jack pressing a soft kiss to your temple as he attached his prosthesis to get up and ready for the day. Since he had a rare day shift today, your usual long mornings were unfortunately cut short.

He was off to work with a kiss at the front door, a warm coffee in his thermos, and his oversized backpack. You put on some music and decided to flick through some recipes you had tabbed to make.

That afternoon was spent singing (screaming) songs as you worked on your banoffee cupcakes. You ultimately landed on that recipe as, if it was up to Jack, he'd have an IV drip of straight coffee on him at all times.

You put them in a cute box and decided to take the short walk to the PTMC. The staff there were so nice to you! It could be because you supply them with delicious sweet pastries at least twice a week but, its fine!

As you strolled down the sidewalk, the hem of your skirt swished against your thighs. You cross the road, looking left and right twice which Jack had practically drilled into you at this point.

As you are walking, you hear a whistle behind you, instinctively you turn around. You're met with a guy; maybe thirtyish? His eyes roam over your body with quite possibly, the cockiest smirk you've ever seen. He has this dark hood that cast a shadow over half his face.

"What's a sweet thing like you doing walking around by herself?" he slurs, hammered, without a doubt.

You swallow deeply, awkwardly starting to turn to continue walking. You only got a couple steps forward before his gruff voiced reached you again.

"Hey, what you got in that box, pretty?"

"Oh, uhm, cupcakes." you stutter out nervously. You probably should have walked away when he first spoke but now it seemed quite rude to just turn and leave.

You turn your head to look across the road, to the PTMC just up the road. "I-I sort of have somewhere to be.." you say quietly, hoping he'd dismiss you or simply leave you alone.

Your feet feel cemented to the ground as he stalks over, his hand makes his way to your wrist. You could hear your heartbeat in your ears as your eyes dart down to his hand.

Then, you feel it. The force of his hand pulling you closer, tighter. The panic kicks in. You yank your arm back but he is stronger. Your breath hitches in your throat.

You eyes scan the surrounding areas of the street, hardly any pedestrians, just cars driving by way too quickly to even notice anything.

Before you can even react, his hand snakes up to your hair, gathered into an angry fistful. A pained groan leaves your lips as your hands fly to your head.

You push back to free yourself from his grip, and it works. What you didn't calculate was the fall. You're body turns under his pressure and your face is met with cold, hard pavement.

You roll yourself onto your back and a struggled groan leaves your lips, a weary hand lifting to your head. "Oh gosh, O-Ow." you wince.

When it returns, dripping in wet, deep crimson, you cringe.

The cupcake box is long forgotten as you make your best attempt of getting up. You're head throbs as you stand to your full height. Relief floods you when you realise jack is right across the road.

After crossing the road, and receiving a very concerned look from a passerby, you make it to the front doors of the ER. You walk through the waiting room and join the line for reception, trying to stop the blood from hitting the floor.

As you're waiting there, you can hear Jacks voice in your head telling you that if anything ever happened to you, to go in through the ambulance bay. You understood why he told you this, but it felt unfair. Yeah, your nose and head were killing you right now but one quick scan across the waiting room and suddenly, you didn't feel so bad about your own injuries.

You're pulled out of your thoughts at the call of your name. You lift your gaze and see a very concerned looking Dana.

"Jesus, what happened to you?" she asks, quickly grabbing some gauze to hold to your head.

"Oh, uhm, well I fell, kind of, there was a guy uhm yeah..." you stutter out, not really knowing how to explain it right now.

Dana quickly guides you through the double doors and past the waiting room, barely making it inside before Jack spots you. His face pales instantly. He abandons whatever conversation he was in the middle of and rushes over, his expression shifting from confusion to sheer panic.

“Sweetheart, what happened?” he asks, his voice rough with concern as he gently cups your face in his hands, his eyes scanning every inch of you: the dried blood on your forehead and nose, the way you’re trembling. His thumbs brush lightly over your cheeks, as if reassuring himself that you’re actually here.

His gaze flicks to Dana, who's still holding the gauze to your forehead. "Hm? Talk to me." he says, turning his attention back to you and taking over with the gauze.

"I...I fell." you admit, as he shines a light in my eye briefly.

"Dana, I need a room, now." Jack says, without removing his gaze from you.

Dana guides you over to a vacant room, and Jack is right at your side. The fluorescent lights of the ER feel too bright, too harsh.

As you’re led into a small examination room, Jack finally breaks the silence. “I need to know what happened,” he says, his voice raw. “Not just the fall. Everything.”

He pulls up a chair to the bedside and his knees press against yours.

You take a shaky breath, your voice barely above a whisper as you start to explain. “I was walking here to drop off the cupcakes. There was this guy-he was drunk, I think. He started talking to me, and when I tried to walk away, he grabbed me. I...I fell when I tried to get away from him. Landed face down on the concrete."

You can't meet his gaze after you speak, but you can feel his energy shift and his jaw clenches.

Jack exhales through his nose before speaking. "Did he hurt you anywhere else? Anything you're leaving out?" he asks.

You shake your head in response, to which you immediately regret as the movements make your head throb.

He checks your nose, the cut on the forehead, orders, what feels like, every scan possible. And now that he has confirmation, there are no broken bones or a concussion, he feels a small amount of weight lift off his shoulders.

He's sat on his chair next to your bed, where you're all bandaged up and feeling a bit better. His thumb strokes over your hand in a soothing motion.

"They were your favorite, y'know?" you smile softly, in hopes to lift the mood.

"What?" he asks, with a confused and intrigued look.

"Banoffee cupcakes, vanilla frosting and everything."

He studies your face for a long moment, before his expression softens and a hesitant smile tugs at his lips. "Yeah? Is that right?"

You nod, and smile at his more relaxed expression.

"You're incredible, you know that...and you're also my girl, so next time I tell you to go through the ambulance bay, you do it. And i also hope to god, that there won't be a next time."

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drabble

pairing: jack abbot x younger!gf!reader

a/n: my first attempt at writing for jack!! hope you enjoy this snippet.

Jack trudged up the stairs towards the apartment you both shared. The day shift he had just completed threw him off his usual routine of night shifts. The sleeves of his scrubs were pushed up to his elbows, and his greying curls looked frazzled due to the sheer amount of times he had ran his hand through them.

His mind had been lost in the thought of coming home to you all day.

He fished his set of keys out of his pocket and pushed open the front door. He was about to call out to you as he usually did when he got home but he stops at the door to take in the sound he's hearing.

A tired smile tugged at his lips when the sounds of one of his favorite records reverberated through the apartment. He quietly set his backpack down on the ground and slid off his shoes. He quietly made his way to the living room and his smile only grew at the sight.

There you were, sitting with your legs crossed on the mat, dressed in one of his old shirts he usually sleeps in. He watched as you listened intently to the music that his record player produced. You hadn't noticed him walk in yet, and he really let himself take this moment in.

Your hair was twisted into a messy braid which was one of his favourites to see you in, and your feet were clad in thick fluffy socks adorned with cartoon butterflies.

And he swears, he’s never seen a more beautiful sight.

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