#swat

You’d do so many things, yet none, to see him one more time. 

No, no, no, stay with me 

The cold water didn’t help — nothing helped with the numbness. You stood there, hands gripping the edges of the sink, staring at the stranger in the mirror. Another long sigh slipped out of you. Feeling alive left you with scars — a constant reminder that to feel something, even a spark of happiness, you must also feel pain. 

Mohan get out. Every single fucker who’s not working on her needs to get out! 

You emailed Gloria, short and direct, saying you’d take the offer, but only if you were everyone’s senior. No exceptions. No one could push back and no one could say no to you.

She agreed.

Scrubs on and hair gently sitting on your shoulders. Makeup done just enough to look sharp and shoes laced.

Today’s scrubs colour of choice was red. 

The colour of anger.

The colour of superiority.

The colour of your blood that covered the ER floor that day. 

The colour that told everyone: I am your senior and you report to me. 

You took one last look at yourself in the mirror and smiled.

You walked out of the door.

My face… what the fuck happened to my face! 

You stood outside the ER doors and repeated to yourself: fourteen hours, fourteen hours, fourteen hours, fourteen hour sh….. You held your head high and walked in — no smiles, no eye contact, just focusing on the target ahead. 

“Good morning Lena” voice firm, quiet and stern.

She turned around slowly to the familiar voice she thought she’d never hear again. 

“Hello Doc!” She said, a smile spreading across her face “It’s good to see you, sweetheart”

Likewise? No that would be a lie. You watched her eyes as they slowly traced your scars, from your face down to your arm. 

“I’m good, Lena” you said firmly, snapping her out of whatever world she was in. Not an answer to a question she asked, but an end to a thought that wandered through her mind.

This is all your fault Jack

I know it is!

“Is your attending around?” You asked “I’m here early so I can catch up” 

“He’s in there, sweet”

You muttered “thank you” before walking towards the room. 

Hours turned into days. Days dragged into months of you wondering if you’ll get to speak with him again. If you will ever tell him what you truly feel. If you will ever get your revenge? 

His broken eyes haunted you in your sleep. His screams hid in the corners of quiet rooms. 

He didn’t know you were coming — that was another condition. The beautiful element of surprising every motherfucker that did you wrong. 

“Hello Jack” you said as you walked in. Not Dr Abbot, like he reminded you last time. Just Jack.

And there it was. The beautiful look of betrayal. All the color drained from his face. He froze, eyes wide with shock. You counted in your mind: one, two, three, four….

Starting compressions! One, two, three, four….

“Are you aright?” You asked, holding down a small smile “do you need to sit down?” 

“Uh…” was that a word? A sound? A noise? Eventually, the cat let go of his tongue as he said “hello”. 

He gripped onto the edge of the bed and adjusted his posture. That beautiful posture that the old you had fallen for. 

“I’m here for rounds” you said.

“F—for rounds?” He frowned and rubbed the back of his neck. 

That beautiful hair you used to run your fingers through until he fell asleep.

“I am covering for Michael” not Robby “As senior emergency attending physician for the day shift.” 

The jaw dropped wide open. 

“So” you said quietly “rounds then you can go home?”

His chest rose and fell faster. After a few seconds, he gave a small, shaky nod.

“Good to see you Jack” therapy taught you to kill them with kindness but it didn’t say you had to forget or forgive. “You look well”

A lie. He looked terrible — like he hadn’t been mentally or physically well. 

Every fibre in your body wanted to reach over and pull him in for a hug, but you knew that would break him. Not you. It was always about him. 

You turned your back to him and moved in a confident rhythm, so womanly and heavenly, and so God damn powerful. 

You caught up with the night shift staff — filling you in on every single patient. Eyes traced your scars with every movement you made. You scared them — not because of the scars, but because of your confidence and your powerful charisma. 

“Thank you for filling me in. I’ll take it from here” you clapped your hands together once, gave a sharp nod, and walked toward the hub.

The day shift staff gathered around, backs turned to you, chit-chatting amongst themselves. 

“So if Robby isn’t here who’s covering today?”

“Has the ER even not had an attending?”

“W—what happens now?”

“Dana, do you now who’s covering?”

You smiled. 

“Me” 

They all turned at once. Hands in pockets, shoulders squared, black stethoscope around your neck and scars glowing under the fluorescent light. 

You craved a dramatic entrance, and you got your moment.

Jaws dropped. 

Eyes widened. 

Someone whispered shit. 

Your ego gave you a tap on the shoulder, and somewhere in the distance, you heard an imaginary audience, clap. 

“Good morning team” you said “I will be covering today’s shift as your senior attending”

You approached them slowly and said  “The night shift has filled me in, but I trust you will all do rounds quickly. There are already 50 patients in triage”

“H—hi” Langdon said, giving you a small wave. 

“Hello Frank” you replied with a nod “Any questions?”

I did this Robby, I did this! 

“Uh..” Whitaker tried to say something but Santos nudged him and so he kept quiet. 

“Dennis, it’s good to see you too” the first genuine smile you have given so far. 

Whitaker can you intubate any faster!

He smiled back. 

You turned around to face Javadi who looked like she was about to cry. You gave her another genuine smile and she rushed over and hugged you so tightly she almost knocked you off your feet. 

“Hi sweety” you said, voice muffled against her shoulder as you pushed her hair out of the way. She pulled back smiling and fixed her scrubs as she stood next to you.

“Alright, rounds. Present after each case, and your senior is Langdon. You report to him, he reports to me. Langdon, I would like you to float today — supervise, educate, present” you said “they do all the work, you correct verbally and only step in when you think it’s necessary”

He nodded, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Has everyone been assigned sections?” 

They all nodded. 

“Uh” Ogilvie raised his hand “where am I?”

“Where are you usually?” 

He pointed at Santos.

“Today you will shadow nurses”

“N—nurses?”

“Yes, nurses. Does anyone here know what our nurses actually get up to?”

Perlah put her hand up, smiling. You glanced at her from the corner of your eye and back at the team. “You will learn a lot of them — you gotta respect and know what they do so you can complete your work”

He nodded and you felt a few approving smiles. 

Perlah can you uh… I need more o-neg. Stat. 

What you hadn’t noticed was Jack, along with the night shift crew, standing behind your team, watching. 

“Fucking hot damn” Parker said “she looks good”

“I’m scared” Shen replied quietly. 

Your phone rang as the group dispersed.

“Hi”…. “Shit. When?” “How many?…. What do you mean you don’t know?” “Lockdown?”… “Alright” 

You hung up, cleared your throat and walked through the ambulance bay door, outside. The calm before a terrible, fucked up storm, and you were in charge. You breathed in the last bit of fresh air your lungs will know for some time. 

With heavy and determined footsteps, you walked back to the hub and grabbed the intercom. “Can all staff gather around the hub please, that’s all staff to the hub. Now”

“What was that all about?” Dana frowned at you. There was a look of fear in your eyes that she knew too well. 

You replied quickly “nothing good”.

Everyone gathered within minutes — another tap on the back for the commanding voice.

“Listen up team, I just got a call from SWAT. There are multiple mass shootings currently happening all across Pittsburgh.”

You saw Gloria rushing through the doors but you continued talking.

“The number of casualties is unknown, however they have already targeted one hospital, with multiple staff injured”

“What!” You glanced over your shoulder to Jack but you ignored him.

“Gloria, am I correct in saying we are in lockdown?”

“Correct. The doors will be locked and SWAT will be positioned outside. Victims will be brought in only when it is safe”

“You can’t just lock the door otherwise, how are we treating casualties?” Jack now stood across the floor from you. 

“We can’t treat casualties if we’re dead” you said sharply, your stare holding his “they shoot the staff, they shoot the only people who can save their lives.”

“Fuck” someone said and you heard uneasy whispers fill the floor. 

“Staff will be allowed to go home” Gloria’s lips parted as she heard you say the words “your safety is more important than a job. But if you want to stay, I, and no one else, can promise you safety”

You looked around at panicked and scared faces. 

“SWAT will also be bringing everyone bulletproof vests. Outside will be triage — SWAT medics will assist and send them in. The closer you are to the door,  the more careful you need to be” You continued “If anyone needs to go home, you need to leave now. But please be careful”

No one moved as everyone stared at you and your scars. 

“Night shift staff” you said to them “are you leaving or staying?”

“Staying” Parker quickly put her hand up along with the majority of the staff. 

“I will stay too” Lena said. 

You turned around to Jack “of course I’ll stay”

“Good, please go take your break now”

Jack cut in sharply and said “we’re good”. 

“Nope” you smiled “you will take your break, a minimum of two hours. I will not allow tired staff on the floor”

He nodded and you saw Parker smirk.

“SWAT is here” Javadi whispered. 

A tall man with dark hair and striking green eyes walked in like he’d stepped off a magazine cover — full SWAT uniform, bold letters across his chest. Every head in the room turned to watch him.

Two dramatic entrances in one day. Perfect. 

He spotted you immediately and smiled and you didn’t hide your grin. People’s heads turned away from him towards the person he was smiling at: you. 

You walked straight over and he pulled you in with one strong arm, and you gave him a long, heavy kiss. You whispered against his lips “Hi baby.”

You heard someone whistle — actually, it was multiple people. You felt eyes burn in the back of your head as you pulled away from him. 

“Everyone, this is Pete, Chief of Special Operations and SWAT commander for the city police department” you said, standing by him. “He will cover the outside with the squad. He is accompanied by Dr Lane, the lead medic assigned to Special Operations.”

Dr Lane gave a small wave as he stood to your side. 

“SWAT has already surrounded the hospital” Pete announced, his deep, gravelly voice cutting through the room with authority “we will communicate via radios…”

A couple of officers started handing them out.

Your eyes finally met Jack’s — they were sad and tired. They were also jealous that your lips were no longer his. 

Is sh—she dead? Robby is she dead!

“…and no one enters without going through SWAT”

You didn’t notice yourself smiling as you watched him take command. 

Today was a bad day for many people, but revenge was sweet, and today was going great for you.

You explained to everyone how triage would work and which protocol had been initiated. Some staff decided to leave, and you certainly did not blame them.  Everyone had now gowned up, except you. You remained in red, loud and clear. 

You oversaw what everyone was doing and how they were operating. Critical patients were all moved upstairs, beds empty and ready for the chaos. You then heard the first siren and braced yourself.

SWAT medic cleared the first patient and passed the gurney to the ER staff.

“GSW right thigh, clean exit wound” King said.

“Yours, take Javadi” you said firmly. The entirety of the ER stood behind you as you triaged each patient and assigned them to clinicians. 

If she dies, I die!

And suddenly, every doctor and nurse were occupied with patients. You floated between rooms, barking commands, stepping in when needed, and most importantly, teaching. 

The casualties slowed down, which was unusual because it hadn’t even been two hours. You took your gloves off and walked outside to find Pete. 

 Jack had already beaten you to it, and he was outside talking to the squad 

“Babe, what are you doing out here” Pete quickly stepped to your side with a bulletproof vest “you need to wear this”

You shook your head “I’m good, thank you”. 

Your eyes swept the perimeter: armed officers were posted at every corner, rifles trained on every passing car. A loud intercom kept repeating the same commands: open all windows, hands where we can see them.

“What’s the update?” You asked. 

“The second hospital has been attacked” someone said “although they didn’t have SWAT”

“Why not?”

“There are still active shootings they can’t seem to control” Pete added.

Your lips parted in panic and you felt your heart rate spike. “Okay. Do you think you guys will leave?”

“We won’t leave our positions, no” Pete said “Not when we’re here to protect the biggest trauma centre”

“And Pete’s girl” someone muttered with a grin. 

You let out a small laugh and said “shut up, Martin”

Your eyes flicked back to Jack. “Dr Abbot, may I speak with you inside?”

He nodded. You gave Pete’s hand a quick squeeze before walking back inside. 

“I’m on break” he quickly said, eyes not meeting yours. 

“That’s not what I was going to say” you quietly replied, “I wanted to see how you are doing, with all of this”

He gave you a small smile, and you felt that same heartbreak you did that night. 

I love you, i will always do. But i will never forgive myself. If you live, please don’t ever forgive me

“I am around if you need anything. Please take your break somewhere where you can actually rest?” You said “the second wave will hit us shortly”

“Sure” he said quietly and walked off. You watched him, a familiar limp in his step, wondering why life was so unfair. 

If one person was going to make you cry today, it was Jack’s broken heart. You wondered how many times it could break before he walks over the edge of the roof. 

“Uh I need uh… help” Whitaker said with a panicked look on his face “pretty sure my patient was one of the shooters”

“Shit. Alright, who’s in there?”

“Me and McCkay” 

“What did he say?” 

“He mumbled something about people deserving this. He also has a mob tattoo on his arm” He said “he said that people should own guns and do whatever they want with them”

“Okay let’s not make any assumptions. I’ll swap with you. Please let SWAT know that I need someone to assist, uniform off, no guns. Got it?”

He nodded and rushed off.

You stepped into the room where McKay was suturing a leg wound. “McKay, I’ll take over” 

She frowned, still focusing on the patient’s leg. 

“Now, please” you said, putting gloves on. 

She nodded, stepped aside, and quickly briefed you on the history and what she’d done. 

“Thank you” you said as you attended to the wound.

“So, how are you feeling?” You asked the patient as you scanned for any weapons and staying clear of his hands. 

“I’d like some pain meds, please”

“We’re running low on them I’m afraid” you said firmly. 

You glanced over and someone you didn’t know, walked in. You flinched hard at first until he gave a quick series of tactical hand signals, then tapped his chest where the SWAT lettering would be.

You nodded and turned back to the patient. 

“My colleague here is going to ask some questions as I work on your leg” you said softly, working as quickly as possible.

The SWAT officer, who introduced himself by his first name, said he was asking witnesses to describe what happened. The patient, after answering many, many questions, turned out to be a big believer in gun laws and… applying these laws.

A decision was made to detain him until proven innocent. Arguments and yells filled the room but he was quickly handcuffed to the bed.

We failed her, every single one of us failed her!

You walked outside to find Jack wandering around, eyes full of fear.

“Did you seriously go in there on your own with a possible shooter?” He asked. 

You wanted to roll your eyes at him, and snap back but all you said was “yes, do you have a problem with that?”

His shoulders dropped and you saw his jaw tense. 

You asked “What area are you covering?”

“Trauma” 

“You need a bullet proof vest then” you bit back.

He cut in quickly “Where’s yours?” 

You took a small, calculated step towards him “I died once, what’s another?”

You felt the tension grasp at the thin air between you and Jack. “Don’t worry about me, Dr Abbot. That was never your job”

You turned your back on him and continued with rounds.

I smell blood, so much of it. Where is it coming from? 

You looked at the ER floors — colours indeed matched your scrubs. You refused to let your mind wander to your past, but sometimes, only sometimes, you let it. You found comfort in repeating familiar events in your mind. 

Someone touched your arm gently and you flinched. 

“Doc we need you in trauma two” Princess was by your side. 

Don’t cry, Princess I’m okay.

“How can I help?” You asked as you walked in.

Garcia and Walsh’s mouths dropped wide open. 

Garcia said quietly “What the fuck”.

“Nice to see you too” you smiled “and no you’re not seeing a ghost. It’s me in the flesh”

“Well, God damn girl, you look good” she smirked and shook her head. 

“So I’m needed in here?”

“Abbot and I are having a little disagreement and we need a senior to settle it” Walsh said.

Childish. Foolish. All of you! You did this! 

“Walsh presents first. Don’t cut each other in, this isn’t high school” you said firmly.

And they did, just like you asked them to. Two hot-headed doctors, both passionate about what they wanted to do. But one critical patient.

“Walsh take the lead” you said firmly before walking out, feeling Jack follow you, all the way to the break room. 

“You’re taking a break?” He asked quietly.

“No, I’m making a hot drink” you said softly “I need caffeine if I’m going to run this for the next however many long hours”

You glanced over your shoulder, noticing his silence and said “Would you like one?”

He stayed quiet.

“Look, Robby ran things differently. But I don’t pride myself in exhaustion” you said softly “if I’m tired, I make mistakes. If I make mistakes, the team gets in trouble”

“You changed” he said softly. Was he admiring? Jealous? Sad?

“Of course I did Jack” you said softly “what did you expect was going to happen?”

“I’m sorry.” A whisper. A mutter. 

“I uh…” he stared at the floor, too embarrassed to meet your eyes “I regret so many things. How I let you down and…. Everything I did…”

“Regret only stops you from moving forward in life, Jack. You only get one shot at this, you need to move on”

He said “I don’t think I ever will”

“That’s a shame” you said as you walked past him leaving the room. 

You felt your throat go dry and anxiety slowly creeping up. Would it be so bad if you just… hugged him? Told him how much you missed him? You swallowed back tears and jumped right back into the chaos. 

You stood by the ambulance doors, watching another wave of casualties being rushed in, when the ER lights suddenly cut out. The entire department fell into darkness.

You stood out like a sore thumb in your red scrubs. Panic had now fully taken over as you yelled “everyone get down!”

Everyone dropped instantly, covering patients or their heads. You charged toward the trauma room when strong arms grabbed you, yanking you down and pinning you beneath them.

At first it was panic. 

Then it was comfort.

Jack was on top of you, shielding your body with his own, covering every inch he could.

“I’m okay” you whispered “Jack I’m okay”

He nodded, breathing hard, and carefully rolled off you, pulling you both into a shadowed corner.

You grabbed your radio. “Pete, come in.” Nothing. You tried again. “Anyone, come in.” Silence.

The ER was pitch black, the only light came through the ambulance doors.

“Shit, shit, shit” you muttered. You looked over at Jack and said “give me your bulletproof vest”.

“The hell im not! You’re not doing what I think you’re doing”

“Give me the fucking vest, Jack” 

He hissed “Over my dead body. Stay down, I’ll take a look”

You shook your head in anger and slowly got up, looking around. He pulled your wrist back down. 

His hands warm, rough, familiar. 

Please baby don’t leave me. It’s only you that I want. It’s only you that I ever wanted

Everyone fell silent. The only sound left was the steady, eerie beeping of machines. The monitors were still running and outlets worked. Everything had power — except the lights.

Was someone fucking with you?

You lifted the radio again. This time, Pete’s voice crackled through. “Stay down. Possible shooter. Over.”

You ducked back down, heart hammering, then started crawling low across the floor, moving out of the corner. You closed your eyes for a second, steadying your breath before shouting loud enough for the whole ER to hear “I need everyone to remain calm, regardless of what happens next. You protect yourself first, then others. Got it?”

No one answered.

You said again, louder this time “got it?”

Everyone replied at once. 

Time passed by, then cutting through the silence was a the sound of a flatline. The cruelty of the timing hit you hard. In the pitch black, with a possible shooter still out there, someone was slipping away and no one could move to help.

You lifted the radio again. “Pete, come in.” No answer.

But after a few seconds, Martin’s voice crackled through. “Patchy… we’re good out here. Trying to locate contact. You guys good in there? Over.”

“Marty we’re okay. Uh… be careful out there. Over” your voice shook, and you didn’t hold back tears. Not when you now had two teams to take care of. 

“Patchy?” Langdon asked quietly. 

“Patches, scars, whatever they did to put this face back together” you said quietly. 

He whispered back “I like it”

“Me too” you answered.

You heard footsteps and you peeked outside the room, Jack next to you, to find a shadow walking down the corridor. 

“Shit someone’s coming. Move, move” Jack said as he pushed you towards the back of the room. He quickly took his vest off and put it over you. 

He leaned in closer and you felt his warm breath on your face “if they come in here, you crawl through the back door, got it?”

You nodded. 

You sat against the wall, knees up to your chest, and Jack now sat in front of you. 

I will give you my life, every minute, every second, every hour, if it means I get to see you happy again. 

The lights turned on all of a sudden, and the shadow was a SWAT team member.

Everyone sighed in relief at the sight and you felt tension break. But you didn’t and neither did Jack.

Something was wrong. You didn’t know him. You didn’t know everyone, but him; he didn’t look familiar. 

The way he had tied his laces wasn’t military-like. His posture… the way he held his rifle. It wasn’t someone who said loud and clear: I work for SWAT. 

You quickly got up and walked over to him and said “thank you”.

He replied quitely “anytime”. 

You flashed the tactical signals for freeze and enemy. He nodded like he understood and kept walking.

Jack saw the interaction and fear spread across his face. 

You had an active shooter, in disguise, in your very own ER.

You backed away slowly and radioed Pete, praying he’d pick up “Code Contact, code contact. I repeat, code contact. Over” 

Pete answered back instantly “Did you just say code contact? Over” 

“Code contact in ER floors, dressed in SWAT. Over” 

You watched the so-called SWAT officer pace around the floor, looking at everyone. You took small footsteps towards him, mind ticking, think, think, think.

You saw Jack wanting to make a move but you put your hand out and urged him to move back. The shooter turned around and faced the two of you.

“What are you two looking at?” He snapped. 

“Nothing, officer. It’s been a long day” Jack responded quickly. 

All eyes were on the three of you. Behind the shooter, real SWAT was quietly moving in through the ambulance doors.

Pete signalled for you to freeze. 

You said “Hey officer, can you uh… talk to one our patients please? We think he’s one of the shooters”

“Yeah sure” 

“Follow me” you calmly said. You gestured at Jack in tactical sign: gather, evacuate, door.

His lips dropped in defeat as he nodded. 

“There he is” you said “so, our officer here would like to speak with you. Ask you some more questions. If he thinks you’re innocent, we can let you go”

You said, giving the officer a small forced smile. The shooter didn’t seem to notice the eerie silence that had fallen over the ER — no one moving, no one speaking, injured patients and staff alike on the floor. 

“Uh sure, whatever gets me out of here” the patient replied.

You nodded and walked calmly out of the door and as you did, SWAT stormed in.

Before you could even react, strong arms grabbed your waist and your feet left the ground. Pete had thrown you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and was running you out of the ER.

“I don’t abandon my team, Pete” you said quietly as he sat you on the ground. Not a snap, not a moment of anger. Those days were behind you.

Pete was patient, and kind, and loving. He opened the door of the armored truck and motioned for you to get in.

“Okay baby” you whsipered.

He cupped your face with his hand and leaned in “I love you, and I will never tell you what you can or can’t do. But I can’t have you anywhere near a shooter okay? If I get the chance to protect you then that’s exactly what I’ll do” 

He pulled you into a long, deep kiss.

“Pete” you said “if we get out of here—“

“I’ll fucking marry you” he cut in “if we get out of here in one piece, you’re mine for the rest of my long life”

“I love you too baby” you leaned in for another kiss. 

“I need to get back in there. By the way you look so good look in red” he smirked “but I prefer you naked”

He winked as he shut the door and rushed back inside. 

Someone tell me what you’re doing, please. My face is burning. Someone say something.

You traced your fingers down your scars, smiling to yourself as you thought of Pete. Butterflies danced in your chest as you lost track of time. 

Everything hurts. Please let me go. 

We cant do that, you know we can’t. You can do this

I don’t want to be here just let me go, let me go, let me g…

You spotted Pete through the glass doors, walking straight toward you.

“That was quick thinking” he said as he opened the truck door “and I’m proud to say that my girlfriend was the one who caught it”

You smiled “Actually…it’s fiancée?”

He grinned and leaned in, taking his helmet off. “Oh yeah? That sounds so damn good”

He paused then whispered “Shit I need a ring” 

You tipped your head back and laughed “no baby we don’t need a ring. I just need you”

You grabbed the front of his vest and pulled him in, kissing him hard — like the world might end any second and this could be the last time.

“Ummm as much as I love this” he mumbled against your lips “I don’t know if I can stop and we can’t have sex in the middle of a crisis” 

“We have an on-call room?” You whispered as you laughed.

“Oh you’re gonna wanna be somewhere very private when I take these scrubs off, trust me”

You squealed at his words as he helped you get out of the car. 

“Right I best go back in, are you gonna carry me in this time?”

“No, the floors all yours” he watched you walk away, leaning against the truck. “Hey babe?” 

You stopped and turned around. 

“Tell him how you feel” he said softly “he deserves to know” 

You told Pete everything — no secrets and no lies, and no chances for rumours to spread.

“Are you sure?”

“You’re mine forever and I know I’m never going to lose you. But he did, so tell him”

You signed I love you and walked back in.

How long has she been like this for? 

Hours maybe. 

Did she say anything? 

She said she doesn’t remember what happened. 

Is her memory intact? 

No, she didn’t recognise some people initially but it’s slowly coming back.

Call psych. 

Will do.

You brushed against the shooter, who had been handcuffed,  as you walked back in, holding your head high. You checked in on everyone, announced multiple deaths for lives that were lost when nothing could be done. Everyone was covered in blood, tired, and exhausted. You asked everyone to gather around the hub. 

“Casualties are starting to slow down” you said and saw Pete walk in.

He added “Everything’s now under control”. 

You smiled and nodded. “People will now take turns to take breaks. Shower, freshen up and eat something”

“We don’t need to take a break” someone said and you didn’t bother to look at who it was. 

“If I say you need to take a break then…” you put your hands in your pocket “… you will take a break. We have hours left of this shift, and once all casualties have been attended to, these doors will open back up to other patients.”

You glanced at all of them “now would you like to be hungry, angry, covered in blood and tired when you greet them?” 

No one answered 

How long has she been quiet for? 

Weeks. 

She only communicates by gestures. 

Is she in pain? 

She hasn’t said so. 

Maybe sign language might help, I’ll give one of our volunteers a call. 

“I thought so” you continued “You have your teams so you will work it out between all of you. Any questions?”

“What happened to your face?” 

You heard ohs and whispers then heads turned. It was a young patient sitting on a bed in the corridor, staring straight at you.

Where does it hurt? 

You tapped on your heart. 

Anywhere else? 

You shook your head. 

Do you want me to teach you sign language? 

You nodded. 

Will you ever tell me why you don’t speak? 

“I got my heartbroken then rode a motorcycle with no helmet on” you said softly “looks like we both have cool ass scars, kid”

He smiled and nodded.

You felt your eyes start to well up. Not because of the patient’s question — no. It was everything else. You’d been strong for too long today, holding the weight of it all on your shoulders, and now a small, exhausted part of you regretted ever coming back here. You turned away from the group before anyone could see your face crack. Without a word, you charged down the hall toward the break room, desperate to get away from all of them.

My name is (he signed) P E T E. You can spell yours this way: ….

You ran your hands under cold water, wanting to snap out of whatever you were feeling.

Overwhelmed. Tired. Exhausted. In love. Happy.

Today certainly didn’t go as you planned it. You didn’t plan to announce that many deaths and you certainly didn’t plan to spend the whole day with Jack. 

Lastly, you didn’t expect to feel this many emotions, this late into the shift. 

Jack walked in, freezing as he saw you: red eyes and shaky hands.

It was like a magnet was pulling you towards him —  all you wanted was to tell him that everything will be okay. But nothing was and nothing ever will be okay between the two of you. 

The very same friend that you laughed and cried with. 

The same friend that you so deeply loved. 

The same friend who believed everyone but not you.

You said “are you going to stand there and stare at me?”

Your glossy eyes were now matching his. 

“I’m proud of you” he whispered “of the woman you have become”. 

“You should have been proud of me from day one, Jack”

“That’s not what I meant”

“But it’s how you worded it. Funny isn’t it? How words can be twisted” you said quietly as you leaned against the counter. 

He nodded, jaw tensing, wrinkles spread across his sweaty forehead. 

Jack, your broken Jack, was crying. But the broken version of you couldn’t comfort him anymore. 

You let out a small, broken sob as you brushed past him, head pushed down until you ran through the ambulance doors.

“Hey, hey baby what happened” Pete was now by your side, taking you in for a hug. 

“I just needed a hug” you said “that’s all”

“Do I need to beat someone’s ass?” Martin asked.

You pulled back, looking at the squad.

“Easy boys” you smiled “but the damage is already done” 

“Hey Patchy, you did great in there” someone said.

You whispered “thank you”. 

Pete took his hand in yours and walked away from the eyes of the squad. 

“Are you anxious? Sad? Scared? Talk to me baby”

“Oh I’m on a very high dose of Lexapro so it’s gonna take a lot more than that to upset me” you joked.

I don’t want to feel anything anymore

That is a beautiful voice I’m hearing for the first time and I am privileged you’re trusting me with it

I don’t know what I want

I can help you, if you let me

“Hey Pete. When you saw my scars…what did you think of them?”

“When I first saw you, baby, I thought God damn, i’m allowed to walk on the same ground as that beautiful woman?”

You laughed. “That’s definitely not true. I was a mess”

“No, my love, you weren’t. There was a small sparkle in your eyes. One that told me you wanted to keep going”

“Is that why you stayed?”

“I thought to myself she’s mysterious… and cool, and one day, I will marry her”

You giggled and felt your face flush “What made you think that?”

“It was the way you went from complete silence to commanding any room you walked into. The way you spoke to everyone like equals. The way you supported them without needing anything back.” He brushed his thumb across your hand “I’ve seen you with my squad — they crumble under your authority.”

“You make it sound like I work for SWAT”

“You don’t, but if you were to walk up to them right this second and command them, not one would protest or bat an eye”

I was thinking today we can leave the hospital for a bit? 

You signed: where? 

We can grab some food, eat in my truck and make up stories about people?

You signed: okay. 

What do you want to eat? 

You signed: everything. 

“I best get back. Thank you for… being you” 

“And thank you for making me the happiest guy in the world” he leaned down and kissed your forehead. 

You walked back and the team was now gathered all around the hub, with Gloria addressing them all. 

“… and thank you to everyone who got us through it. You should all be proud of yourselves”

The room filled with applause. You joined in, clapping for them. They had earned it.

“And thank you to Patchy” Langdon turned around and faced you “for saving the day”

“That’s not on me Frank. That’s on everyone else who worked on patients”

“Patchy?” Javadi asked, confused. 

You pointed at your face.

She muttered under her breath “that’s mean” and McKay gentle nudged her. 

You gave them all a genuine smile and said “thank you, to everyone who stayed and pulled a double shift. To everyone who risked their lives to be here. And to SWAT who kept us safe”

“And to you” jack added quitely “for spotting the shooter”

Your eyes met his first then over to Pete who signed tell him everything. 

“I am only covering one shift here and it is ending soon. It’s been a pleasure, working with you all one more time. I wish you all the best” you smiled and looked around.

“We’re sorry” Santos said “about everything” 

Gloria tried to cut in “I don’t think we should —“

“No, no, we should” she said “we all were in the wrong and we lost her because of what we did” 

You signed: Your eyes are beautiful, Pete

Are you flirting with me? 

You signed: of course I am

It’s about damn time sweetheart

“I’ve not come back here for an apology, guys. I’ve moved on, so should all of you”

Sad faces looked back at you across the ER.

“It was all my fault” Jack said quietly and head snapped in his direction “I should’ve been the one to be pushed out. Not you. If anyone’s to blame and people to hate, it’s me. My fuck up, my mistake”

You felt your breath catch in your throat. Your eyes widened, along with everyone else’s. 

“Dr Abbot may I speak with you?”

He nodded and gestured towards the door.

You both walked through triage and stepped outside, standing by the road.

Who was screaming? Why are they screaming? My face hurts. What happened? I can taste something bitter. Why can’t I speak? Who’s that man? Why is he looking at me like that?

“Hey Jack, I don’t know if I am ready to forgive you yet. I don’t know if I ever will” You said, staring at the traffic. 

Do I know him? His eyes look familiar. He has kind eyes. 

“There is a small broken piece of my heart that belongs to you. That piece is dark and miserable but it is yours and forever will be.”

Why is he crying? Does he know me? 

“I hope you find peace, just like I did. I hope that you’ve learnt from your mistakes”

I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry

Jack get out you’re stressing her out 

I’m sorry, please forgive me

“People told me after my accident, to go find my own village. And I did. I’m somehow surrounded by so much testosterone and uniform, but it’s mine”

What do you think of the two old couples over there?

You signed: future. 

I think so too. 

“The single version of me would be going crazy over this. But the engaged version of me is finally on the right path to happiness”

Hey Pete? Tell me more abut SWAT. 

Why do you think you’ll join us? 

Hah. Never. The only man in uniform I need is right here. 

“Please don’t look at my face and remember your mistakes. Think of my old face. The face of your friend who loved you and supported you.” 

Jack’s cheeks were covered in tears and he fidgeted with hands — a soothing motion he did regularly when he was nervous or sad. 

“In another life, Jack, we are friends. Ones who are not broken. Ones who are loyal to each other. Ones who are friends and stay that way forever.”

Get out of my room and I never ever want to see you again! 

Please let me apologise.

Get out Jack! 

You gave his arm a squeeze before walking inside, back turned to the scene of your accident, back turned to the person you once loved so much, back turned to your past. 

“Good bye Jack” 

--

Notes: i’m not going to lie I really wanted to end this story like this:

you opened your eyes and you were back on the ground outside PTMC and it was all a beautiful nightmare. 

But I thought that would DESTROY people and i will end up with so many haters so... it was all real, she’s very happy and loved.

I listened to Raye - Click Clack Symphony as inspiration. 

--

Who said what - if anyone's interested!

Crashing, give epi - Robby

Jack get out! - Dana

No, no, no, stay with me - Jack

Mohan get out. Every single fucker who’s not working on her needs to get out! - Parker

This is all your fault Jack - Lena 

Starting compressions! One, two, three, four…. - King

I did this Robby, I did this! - Jack 

Whitaker can you intubate any faster! - Parker 

Perlah can you uh… I need more o-neg. Stat.  - Shen 

Is sh—she dead? Robby is she dead! - Jack 

If she dies, I die - Jack 

I love you, i will always do. But i will never forgive myself. If you live, please don’t ever forgive me - Jack 

We failed her, every single one of us failed her! - Dana 

Childish. Foolish. All of you! You did this!  - Garcia 

Please baby don’t leave me. It’s only you that I want. It’s only you that I ever wanted - Jack 

I will give you my life, every minute, every second, every hour, if it means I get to see you happy again - Jack

We cant do that, you know we can’t. You can do this. - Langdon 

How long has she been like this for? - unknown nurse 1 

Hours maybe - unknown nurse 2

How long has she been quiet for? - unkown nurse 3

Weeks - unknown nurse 4

Where does it hurt? - Pete 

That is a beautiful voice I’m hearing for the first time and I am privilaged you’re trusting me with it. - pete 

I was thinking today we can leave the hospital for a bit? - Pete

 What do you think of the two old couples over there? - Pete

Jack get out you’re stressing her out - Robby 

Tag list:

@sirens-and-moonflowers

@coralinejoan

@clearnachotimetravel

My heavy boots echoed on the hardwood flooring upon entry which drew the attention of both Nolan and Lucy who were already arching through the main room of the house. “Uh-oh, she’s got that look on her face.” Lucy cheekily pointed out to Nolan who genuinely looked concerned.

”Everything alright? You didn’t damage anything did you?” He wasted no time in checking on my physical wellbeing while Lucy’s smile only grew. “Trust me, she’s fine. She’s just pent up.”

Lucy is the only one aware of mine and Deac’s relationship and she never misses the opportunity to tease me about it. She also knows that since the work days began getting heavier and the cases kept popping up, I haven’t had quality time with the sergeant who apparently is the most popular and in demand as of late.

Meaning, we haven’t had sex for almost three weeks.

At first I understood the demands of the job, obviously because I’m also an officer but then he started staying late at HQ to finish up his reports. By week two I tried dropping hints to him by wearing minimal clothing to bed, wearing sexy lacy numbers under my robe which I knew normally has him drooling over me but either he hadn’t noticed or he chose not to notice. Which brings us here to week number three. We have resorted to the simple hello and goodbye kisses, more like pecks I should say.

“Lucy I will hurt you, please hush.” She was about to respond but closed her mouth shut when Deacon came in through the door. I didn’t have to turn around to know that he was there, my body always knows when he’s near.

“Officer Y/N, a word please.” Deacon’s warm hand found my shoulder, gently guiding me to the kitchen away from the others. He didn’t waste time pulling me in for a hug and a quick kiss at my temple. His lips were warm against my skin, his cologne invaded my senses as his strong arms wrapped around me caging me against his broad tac-gear covered chest.

I quickly pushed him off of me, possibly a little too harsh but I’m very much still pissed off at him and at this point, I don’t give a damn to mask my annoyance. His brows furrowed as he stared down at me, his hands up in the surrender position. “Okay, what’s wrong? All day you’ve been icing me out.”

Scoffing, I attempted to walk off on him but he held on to my wrist. His grip was firm, keeping me firmly rooted in place. His brown eyes locked with mine, searching to find out the reason behind my attitude. “Two things. One, you haven’t called me by rank in years so I know that you’re pissed. Two, what did I do?”

“More like what haven’t you done.” I muttered as he released his hold on me. Deacon gently pulled me back into his arms, holding onto my waist. “Talk to me.” He practically purred the words to me in his deep voice. His tone immediately sent ripples down my spine while he traced light circles on my hips.

“Do you know that this is the most contact we’ve had in almost a month?” He sighed, “For weeks I’ve dealt with you putting the job above us, tried reasoning with myself that you’re simply swamped with work but at the same time Deac, it’s like you barely acknowledged me. Heck you’ve spoken to me more on the job than in our own bed.” My revelation slapped him in the face, his eyes closed briefly and his hands dropped to his sides.

“Shit, Y/N I’m sorry. I know work has been a lot lately with Hondo gone, I didn’t mean to completely ignore you, us, like that.” He raked his hand through his grey hair, the wheels full on spinning in his head. “I promise I’ll make it up to you.” A voice cut through comms, slicing through our conversation like a knife. While he responded I took my opportunity to slip through the doorway.

I returned to the now trio, Lucy, Nolan and Tim, to finish processing the scene. Lucy shot me a look and I brushed it off. I rolled my shoulders and got back to work. The rest of the day practically flew by. I avoided Deacon, still upset of course. He tried partnering up with me but thankfully Lucy could read the room and willingly rode with him on the next few calls.

It’s currently well past eight o’clock, Deacon is still at HQ, no surprise there. I just got out of a much needed shower, my wet hair clinging to my damp skin. Pillowtalk by Zayn played in the background while I did my nighttime routine, movement in the mirror caught my eye. Deacon. He was no longer in his tactical gear, he swapped the all black uniform for his blue jeans and simple white shirt.

No words were spoken as he closed the distance between us. His lips caressed my skin as he peppered my exposed shoulder with kisses. “I’m sorry.” Kiss. “I miss you.” Kiss. He pulled me flush against him as he kissed his way up the column of my neck, his beard deliciously rubbing against my sensitive skin.

“Let me make it up to you.” His hands roamed my towel clad body, cupping my breasts in his large hands. Like a live wire, my body immediately responded to his touch, my nipples hardened beneath the cotton as he continued toying with them through the fabric. My eyes fluttered shut as his hand dipped lower, slipping through the opening at my waist.

He was taking his time to tease me and I hated it. I wanted him now. Scratch that, I need him now. Deacon glided his fingers between my lower lips, a pleased hum vibrated my back against his chest. My thighs involuntarily parted some more, giving him access to my already drenched pussy. I didn’t register my towel being undone until the cold air hit my nipples.

In the mirror, the sight of him devouring me only made me hotter. Deacon was latched onto the sensitive junction of my neck and shoulder, sucking at the flesh. One hand was toying with my breasts while the other was cupping my cunt, his fingers circling my clit. Tilting my head back, I gave him access to kiss me and he didn’t hesitate. Deacon’s lips melted with mine in a kiss that burned with hunger, desire, passion and part of regret. I gasped feeling him slip one of his fingers into me, he pumped slowly, opening me up before adding another digit.

With one more kiss, he removed his fingers and spun me around in his arms. Deacon hoisted me up on the countertop before stripping out of his shirt and jeans. His pupils were blown wide and locked on me, like a predator watching his prey. Spreading my legs open I pulled him down towards me and crashed our lips together. It’s a messy clash of lips, teeth and tongue. He pulled my hips to the very edge of the counter, pressing his hard cock against me.

He stopped me before I could reach for him, dropping to his knees, holding my thighs spread wide open. “Ohhhh.” His warm tongue flattened against my folds as he began devouring me like I was his last meal. “Eyes on me sweetheart.” Listening to his command I angled myself to see him sucking and lapping up my juices. My hips bucked against his tongue, hands immediately holding his head in place. Obscene moans filled the bathroom as he slipped his fingers back into me.

“Deac!” He sped up his antics, bringing me closer and closer to the edge of a much needed orgasm. The coil wound tighter with each stroke of his fingers before snapping when he curled them, dragging against that sweet spot. I came with a cry of his name, flooding his tongue with my juices. “So sweet, baby.” He stood to his full height and removed his boxers, freeing his erect cock that leaked precum at the red tip.

I licked my lips wanting to taste him. “As much as I’d love to have you suck my cock sweetheart, I need to be inside of you.” Deacon coated himself in my wetness before burning his cock into me in one swift stroke, jerking me on the counter. “Fuck baby, you’re tight.” My head dropped against the mirror as he began rocking his hips into mine. His strong hands held my legs open as his pace picked up.

The sound of skin hitting skin filled the bathroom mixing in with the song still playing in the background. Deacon leaned in, capturing my lips in a kiss, muffling my moans as he pounded into me relentlessly. The head of his cock was hitting all the right spots, my vision hazed as he fucked me nice and deep. My fingers found my clit, rubbing the sensitive nub to his pace. I could feel my second orgasm building and if he keeps fucking me like this I will cum soon.

A slick coat of sweat glistened on our bodies, thank goodness for the physical demands of our job. Deacon’s physique and stamina were top tier. He pushed my legs further up, tilting my hips backwards. “Yes, please don’t stop. Right there.” At this angle he had me damn near seeing stars. His grunts filled my ears as his thrusts started to become sloppy. He’s close.

The intense pressure built up inside my lower stomach, “Cum for me sweetheart.” That was all it took for me to shatter completely. My legs trembled from the intensity of the orgasm. His hips stilled, buried deep as his warm cum filled me up. Our chests rose and fell as we tried to regain our breath.

“I love you, sweetheart and again I’m sorry for pushing you away. That was not my intention but it still happened and I won’t let it happen again.” I pulled him in for a much tamer kiss and he sighed against my lips. “Apology accepted, forgiveness pending sergeant.”

“You sure you want to use rank right now?” He shifted to remind me that he’s still buried in me and he’s still hard. “Yes, sergeant.” I purred, wanting more of him.

“Turn around.”

——————————————————————

I’ve always trusted dogs more than people.

People lie. They posture. They say one thing and mean another.

Dogs are loyal and don't want anything from you but love.

That’s how I found myself standing in the middle of a freezing warehouse at half three in the morning, my gloved hand resting on the broad, steady neck of my German Shepherd, Atlas, while the rest of the team argued about entry points and perimeter coverage.

Atlas leaned lightly into my leg, alert but calm, his ears pricked towards the far end of the building.

“I’ve got something,” I murmured.

Across the loading bay, Detective Deacon Kay glanced up.

He had that permanently serious look about him. The sort that made junior officers straighten their backs and criminals rethink their life choices. Salt and pepper hair, trimmed beard, eyes that seemed to catalogue everything. He wasn’t loud. Didn’t need to be.

“What’s he telling you?” Deacon asked, stepping closer.

“Fresh scent. Male. Nervous. He’s been moving about.”

Deacon gave a short nod. “All right. We’ll do it your way.”

My way.

It shouldn’t have made my stomach flip, but it did.

I unclipped Atlas’s lead. “Seek.”

He moved like a shadow silent, fluid, purposeful. I followed, my torch beam steady, every muscle in my body tuned to him.

We found the suspect crouched behind a stack of crates, trying and failing to make himself invisible. Atlas cornered him with a deep warning bark that echoed through the cavernous space.

“Don’t even think about it,” I warned the man, hand resting lightly on Atlas’s harness.

Deacon arrived seconds later, weapon drawn but steady. The suspect surrendered quickly. Smart choice.

As the cuffs clicked into place, Deacon glanced between me and Atlas.

“Good work,” he said quietly.

Atlas wagged his tail once and then to my complete and utter betrayal trotted straight past me and planted himself at Deacon’s boots.

“Oh, don’t you dare,” I muttered.

Atlas sat. Then leaned. Hard.

Deacon looked down, faint amusement touching his features. “I think he likes me.”

“He doesn’t like anyone,” I grumbled. “He tolerates most people.”

Atlas rolled onto his back.

Traitor.

Deacon crouched, cautiously scratching behind Atlas’s ear. “You’re a big softie, aren’t you?”

Atlas made the most ridiculous contented sound I’d ever heard.

I folded my arms. “Brilliant. Three years of training and he falls in love in under thirty seconds.”

Deacon’s lips twitched. “Can’t blame him.”

That should’ve been the end of it.

Over the next few weeks, we worked the case together a string of warehouse burglaries tied to something much bigger than petty theft. Deacon led the investigation. I handled K9 support.

Atlas handled matchmaking, apparently.

Every briefing, he’d position himself as close to Deacon as physically possible. If Deacon shifted his chair, Atlas shifted with him. If Deacon stood, Atlas stood.

“He does realise I’m his handler?” I whispered one afternoon as Atlas abandoned me yet again to sit at Deacon’s side during a planning session.

Deacon didn’t look up from the file he was reading. “He’s just got good taste.”

“Arrogant, are we?”

He glanced at me then, eyes warm despite his straight face. “Confident.”

Atlas nudged Deacon’s hand with his nose.

I sighed dramatically. “I’m being replaced.”

Deacon’s voice softened. “I’m not trying to steal your partner.”

“It’s fine,” I replied lightly. “He’s clearly made his choice.”

Atlas huffed at me as if offended.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that. You’re the one cuddling him during debriefs.”

Deacon chuckled under his breath, and the sound did something strange to my ribs.

The next time Atlas picked up a trail from a discarded glove near one of the warehouses. The scent led us through back alleys and across a car park before stopping at an abandoned terrace house.

“It’s active,” I murmured, watching Atlas’s posture change rigid, focused.

Deacon signalled for backup but didn’t wait for it.

“We’re not going in alone,” I warned.

“We’re not,” he said, meeting my eyes. “We’re going in with him.”

He meant Atlas.

And, apparently, me.

Inside, it was dark and damp. Floorboards creaked under our boots.

Atlas’s low growl warned us seconds before a figure bolted from the kitchen.

“Stop!” Deacon shouted.

The suspect ran for the back door.

“Apprehend!”

Atlas launched forward controlled, precise. He took the man down cleanly, holding until Deacon reached them.

It should’ve ended there.

But the second suspect appeared from the hallway, swinging a metal bar.

I didn’t think. I moved.

“Deacon!”

He turned just in time to deflect the blow, but not enough. The bar clipped his shoulder. He staggered.

Atlas reacted instantly, releasing the first suspect and placing himself squarely between Deacon and the attacker, barking ferociously.

I stepped in, adrenaline surging, tackling the man hard enough to send us both crashing to the floor.

Backup arrived in a flurry of noise and flashing lights.

When it was over, my hands were shaking.

Deacon was sitting on the front steps, paramedics checking his shoulder. Atlas was glued to his side, whining softly.

I approached slowly. “You all right?”

“Bruised pride,” he said. “Nothing more.”

Atlas pressed his head into Deacon’s chest.

“You’d think he was the one who got hit,” I muttered.

Deacon’s gaze lifted to mine. “He stayed. Protected me.”

“He’s trained to.”

“Still,” Deacon said quietly, “I’m grateful.”

Something unspoken passed between us.

Atlas leaned across and nudged my hand then Deacon’s as if physically connecting us.

“Oh my God,” I breathed. “He’s orchestrating this.”

Deacon laughed softly, then winced at the movement. “You might be right.”

After that night, things shifted.

Deacon started bringing coffee to K9 training sessions.

Atlas started sulking whenever Deacon left.

I started noticing the way Deacon looked at me when he thought I wasn’t paying attention.

One evening, after a long day of paperwork and follow-ups, I found Deacon outside the station, crouched beside Atlas.

“You do realise,” I said, approaching them, “that he has me wrapped round his paw.”

Deacon glanced up. “Good.”

“Good?”

“Means he’s chosen well.”

My breath caught slightly. “Chosen what?”

Deacon stood slowly. He was close. Close enough that I could see the faint scar along his jaw, the tiny flecks of gold in his brown eyes.

“Family,” he said simply.

Atlas wagged so hard his entire back end wobbled.

I stared at my dog. “You absolute menace.”

Deacon’s expression turned serious. “Look… I don’t rush things. And I don’t blur lines at work. But...”

Atlas barked once, sharply.

We both jumped.

“He’s impatient,” I muttered.

Deacon’s mouth curved. “So am I, actually.”

My pulse pounded in my ears. “Deacon…”

He hesitated only a second. “Would you consider dinner? Somewhere that doesn’t involve suspects or warehouses?”

Atlas sat between us, looking impossibly pleased with himself.

I crossed my arms, pretending to deliberate. “I suppose. If only to stop him from sabotaging future operations.”

Deacon’s smile was devastating. “I’ll take it.”

Atlas shoved his head into Deacon’s hand triumphantly.

“Oh, don’t encourage him,” I said, but I was smiling too.

Dinner turned into another dinner.

Then walks with Atlas that were definitely not accidental.

Atlas insisted on sitting between us at first. Then gradually, he shifted closer to Deacon.

“Unbelievable,” I said one afternoon in the park as Atlas leaned fully against Deacon’s leg. “He used to do that with me.”

“He still does,” Deacon replied gently.

He reached for my hand.

Atlas glanced up, satisfied, and rested his head on both our knees.

It felt… right.

Steady.

Safe.

Months later, the case was wrapped, convictions secured. Life settled into something almost peaceful.

One Sunday morning, I woke to the smell of bacon and the sound of Atlas’s nails clicking excitedly on the kitchen tiles.

I padded downstairs to find Deacon at the stove, Atlas sitting proudly beside him like a supervisor.

“You’re in my kitchen,” I observed.

“Technically,” Deacon replied without turning around, “I stayed over. So it’s our kitchen this morning.”

Atlas wagged furiously.

I leaned against the doorway, watching them.

“You realise,” I said softly, “that he chose you.”

Deacon turned then, spatula in hand. “No.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“He chose us,” he corrected.

Atlas trotted over and pressed against both our legs at once.

I crouched, wrapping my arms around my ridiculous, brilliant dog.

“You sneaky genius,” I whispered into his fur.

Deacon knelt beside us.

Atlas licked his face, then mine.