#voidsagentfics

“Jack”, Robby popped his head into the break room; “Come here, you’re gonna wanna see this, brother.”

Jack was bent halfway at his knees, inches from finally, finally, sitting down for the first time in hours and letting the weight off his prosthetic when Robby interrupted him. He didn’t even bother to suppress the groan that left his mouth as he pushed himself back to his full height.

He’d feel the soft couch cushions under him after this, he promised himself that much.

Jack followed Robby out, swinging his stethoscope back around his neck and holding both end of it in his hands.

“What do we got?”, Jack asked, inhaling the same way he always did during a long shift; the kind that made his back arch a little and his chest puff out.

“Female, late twenties to early thirties, jellyfish sting on the left arm and hand”, Robby read out the chart in his hands.

Jack almost stopped walking, a surprised look on his face that turned almost into a smirk.

“You serious?”

Robby laughed; “Hell yeah, figured you’d want in on it.”

Jack scoffed in the way he did when he found something funny; “Hell yeah I want in on it”

He grabs the chart from Robby’s hands flicking through the pages as he reads; “Haven’t seen anything like that since med school.”

“You and me both, brother.”

Robby turned and pushed open the exam room door with his back, sliding on a pair of gloves as he wheeled over on the swivel chair.

You looked up from the bed, eyes bright and not at all like you were in pain. Jack stopped in his tracks at the sight of you.

He realized then he wasn’t expecting someone so…pretty.

So lively and bright.

“Hi i’m Doctor Robbinavitch, this is my fellow attending Doctor Abbot, we’re gonna check you out today”, Robby says, offering a small and professional smile.

“At least buy me dinner first”, You jut back with a laugh.

Oh. Jack wanted to make that laugh leave your lips over and over again.

Robby got to work, carefully inspecting your sting, gloves fingers pressing gently into the raised red skin.

“So jellyfish sting, huh?”, Robby asks, motioning to Jack for a syringe off the tray next to him.

Jack hesitates for a moment, but his brain eventually follows, letting his eyes wander away from you for a moment.

Your hair was clipped back in a claw similar to Dana’s, a few strands falling loosely around your face and ears. A pair of black leggings and a Pittsburg Aquarium shirt. Even in the simplicity of it all, you looked so pretty. Jack swallowed hard.

“Yeah, comes with the job”, You say with an easy shrug, like it’s nothing new.

Robby pauses; “Oh yeah?”

“Yup. Marine Biologist at the aquarium. Little guy snuck up on me today.”

Robby chuckles; “Happen often?”

“More than you think. Not my first sting, won’t be my last.”

Your eyes wander over Jack, who’s still standing slightly off to the side, arms crossed over his chest. You lean a little closer to Robby.

“He always hover like that?”, You ask.

The noise that leaves Robby’s nose makes you laugh.

“Only when he’s working.”

You nod, eying Jack up and down. His silver curls and broad shoulders. The stubble that decorated his jawline. His dark hazel eyes that seem to get darker each time his eyes land on you.

“So often then?”

Robby looks up and tilts his head; “How’d you know?”

“I read people”, You shrug; “He seems like the type.”

Robby bites his cheek from saying something that’ll have Jack kicking him later, shooting him a look. You’re so accurate at reading him, it makes Robby gloat.

“Hey Doctor Abbot”, You nod your chin at him; “You ever sleep or blink or do you just…hover?”

Jack’s eyes flick back to you, the tiniest twitch of a curve at the corner of his lips as he adjusts his weight, shifting on his feet; “I’ll sleep when I’m dead.”

You snort, covering your mouth.

Oh you’re adorable, Jack thinks.

Robby’s still examining your sting, taking pictures on his phone cause who knows when he’ll ever see one again.

“Been meaning to visit the aquarium”, Robby says, not looking up, “My daughter likes fish.”

You light up instantly, eyes flicking between the two men, clocking Jack’s jaw twitching like he’s fighting internally on whether or not he wants to say what’s on the tip of his tongue. He eventually decides against it.

“How old is she?”, You ask.

Robby’s smile softens; “Almost two.”

You hum in response; “Fun age, usually very curious.”

Robby laughs like he couldn’t contain it; “Oh she’s very curious.”

You turn back to Jack, just as Dana pops her head into the room.

“Robby, when you’re done pawning over the jellyfish sting—trauma one needs you”, She says it with a smirk, a witty sarcastic tone with no heat behind it. Just enough to agitate him.

“Cmon Dana, this is so cool.”

Dana rolls her eyes, pointing two fingers at him; “Trauma one, now.”

She’s gone as quickly as she appeared, a sigh leaving Robby as he bows his head with a laugh, snapping his gloves off.

“That’s my cue”, He says, wheeling back in the chair and standing; “Doctor Abbot here will finish up. Get you some topical steroids and something for the pain and you’ll be good as new.”

You don’t see the wink Robby sends Jack’s way as he leaves the room, following the same path Dana had just taken.

Jack pushes off the wall, pulling a pair of gloves out and setting up everything he’ll need on the steel tray in front of him.

“I’m going to deactivate the area with some acetic acid, it’ll stop the stinging”, He begins, pulling on his gloves with a quiet smack.

“Acid?”, You ask, furrowing your brows.

Jack hums with a nod; “Don’t worry, it’s basically just vinegar. Shouldn’t hurt too much.”

You watch as he dumps the liquid carefully over your arm and hand, whatever stinging was there slowly began to dissipate, leaving behind a dull ache and general soreness.

“I’m gonna check to see if there’s any tentacles that need removed. Then we’ll get you all set up with some antihistamines and a topical corticosteroid”, He explains each step as he’s preparing it—whether it’s to ease the nerves he can sense off of you or to reassure himself—you find yourself appreciating it.

You can’t help swinging your legs a little as you watch him slide a pair of glasses onto his nose, a new pair of gloves on his hands as he grabs a pair of tweezers.

“Let me know if anything hurts”, He says.

But you’re too busy watching him.

The way he leans in close, the overhead lamp he brought over casting a slight golden hue to his curls, making them shine like silver. His features look more prominent this close up—aged in a rugged and handsome way that shows he has years of experience and stories behind him. Steady hands that hover. Sharp eyes that train on whatever he’s looking at. His brows furrow a little as he concentrates, his lips parted just slightly as he works.

“So you always pick fights with jellyfish or do you rotate through sea creatures?”, Jack asks, eyes flicking up to your face for a brief moment before returning to your arm.

You try to suppress a laugh—it doesn’t work.

“Nah, new animal each week. They’re usually pretty nice though…think that jellyfish had it out for me.”

Jack’s lip quirks at the corner of his mouth.

“What’d you do to it?”

“God nothing, they don’t have brains to know if I even did.”

Jack hums softly in response, letting you talk as he works. Committing everything you’re telling him to memory.

He lets a beat or two pass before speaking again; “Which one’s your favorite?”

You tilt your head; “My favorite what?”

“Animal, sea creature, whatever you call it.”

You can’t help the smile creeping onto your lips; “Beluga whale…name’s Arlo. He was brought in as a baby with an injured flipper about a year into me working there. I’ve pretty much helped raise him.”

Jack’s chest softens.

“He ok now?”

“Oh yeah!”, You say waving with your other hand, “He’s doing amazing! Just safer to keep him than set him out into the wild. I honestly don’t know how well he’d do with his flipper being permanently damaged.”

Jack finds himself nodding along as you talk, not realizing how long it’s been until he’s almost done tending to your arm. But he doesn’t really want to stop, or for this to end. He could listen to you talk all day.

So he lets you.

He listens intently as you talk about your job; which animals are your favorite, which ones are learning new commands and tricks, what shows you get to put on for guests. The conservation jobs you’ve been on. He watches your free hand move about as you talk—the many faces you make when—each full of passion. He finds himself enthralled by all of it.

“We also do two tours a day for guests to take them around some behind the scenes stuff, meet some of the animals”, You explain.

Jack lifts his head up, eyebrows raised at that; “Yeah? That sounds kind of interesting.”

Without a beat, you respond;

“Yeah? You should come. I’ve got tickets for this weekend you can have.”

Jack falters for a moment, forcing his brain to slow down and his breathing to continue.

“Oh that’s really thoughtful, but I’d hate to just take them, let me do something in return-“

“You’re patching me up, I think that’s enough.”

He stares at you, really stares. The unwavering look of certainty on your face, that small, smug smile at the corner of your mouth that was already doing things to him.

Then finally, he lets his shoulders drop with a sigh; “Ok.”

You perk back up instantly; “Yeah? Great!”

Jack smirks to himself as he pulls off his gloves, wheeling over to the computer stand and tossing the blue latex out. You find yourself staring a moment too long at the way his biceps flex under his scrub top—black material pulled taught against his skin and across his chest—littered with freckles; each different and unique in their own way. You’d be perfectly content counting and tracing each one.

“Think I’ll live, doc?”, You ask.

Jack’s lips twitch again; “Keep your arms away from jellyfish and I think your chances are pretty high.”

You let yourself smile, not caring how ridiculous and enthralled in him it makes you look. He was interesting.

You listen as Jack explains your discharge instructions, hands you a paper with them on it and a number to call if you need it.

“Come back if it gets really painful or infected. Keep using the topical cream I gave you and it should heal up good in no time.”

“Thank you, Doctor Abbot”, You say softly, sliding off the exam bed and letting him guide you out the door.

You don’t miss the way his hand hovers at your lower back, not quite touching, but the ghost of his warmth is there.

He nods once, head jutting towards the exit doors; “Know your way out from here?”

Like he’s offering to walk you.

“Yeah, thanks”, You smile; “Well hey, hope we can talk again sometime.”

His lips quirk; “Hopefully on better terms than this.”

“That’d be nice”, You say, knowing full well it won’t be the last time you walk through those hospital doors; “Maybe this weekend?”

Jack stills for a moment, the wheels in his brain turning before he offers a movement that’s almost a nod.

“Yeah”, He says it like he’s thinking, “Yeah, we’ll see.”

With that you’re heading towards the door with a thanking squeeze to his bicep that makes him feel like he’s a teenager again, watching as you stop and turn back towards him again.

“See you around, Doctor Abbot.”

Jesus, he was in fucking trouble.

─ ─── ─── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ─── ─── ─

Jack finds Robby in the break room later, hovering over a pot of hospital coffee.

“You free this weekend?”, Jack asks.

Robby quirks a brow; “What’re you asking me out?”

Jack bites his tongue, his eyes squeezing shut to compose himself; “No, I was gonna offer you these tickets I got.”

“What tickets?”

Jack sits down at the small round table with Robby in tow, passing him a steaming cup as he does.

“Remember the patient with the jellyfish sting from earlier?”, Jack asks.

Robby’s already smirking; “You mean the one that was flirting with you?”

“She wasn’t flirting-“

“Jack”, Robby chuckles; “You’re geriatric not stupid.”

“You’re geriatric and still older than me.”

Robby can feel the glare Jack shoots his way burning into the side of his head.

“What about her?”, Robby asks.

Jack sighs into his coffee; “She offered me tickets for some tour of the aquarium this weekend…they’re already in my inbox. Figured maybe you and Noelle would wanna take Nora.”

Robby shakes his head; “Nah she offered them to you man, you take them.”

“And do what? Stand around like a creep?”

“I don’t know…go?”, Robby says it like it’s obvious; “She offered you these tickets. Not me. You have to go.”

Jack doesn’t answer, just sipping on his coffee that’s starting to taste more and more like dirt with each passing day.

“She obviously likes you brother, or she wouldn’t have said anything”, Robby says.

Damn it, Jack really hated when Robby was right.

The older man sits up in his seat.

“Listen, Noelle’s out of town this weekend so it’s just me and Nora. Why don’t we go with you?”, Robby offers.

For some reason, that makes Jack relax a little.

“Careful”, Jack says with an arched brow, already clocking Robby’s enthusiasm; “If I didn’t know any better I’d say you actually like me, brother”,

“God don’t make me regret this”, Robby says, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“What else am I here to do?”

Jack stands to lean against the counter, stirring his coffee and tracing the rim of the cup.

“You’d seriously go?”, He finally asks, shoulders closing in a little.

“Yeah, why not?”, Robby shrugs; “Nora loves seeing the fish and for some reason you. Plus I can play matchmaker if i’m there.”

Jack groans; “And there it is.”

“What?”

“Your ulterior motive.”

“Gotta entertain myself somehow, brother”, Robby says, smacking a hand on Jack’s shoulder.

It takes everything in him not to smack Robby right then and there.

“I hate you.”

Secretly though? Jack’s grateful and almost relieved at Robby’s offer. But he’d never live down the day he tells him that.

─ ─── ─── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ─── ─── ─

“Unca ‘Ack! Unca ‘Ack! Phish!”, Nora’s little voice shrieks as she bounces it Jack’s arms, pointing to the floor to ceiling cylindrical fish tank.

They’d made it exactly five steps in from the front entrance, and Nora was already amazed. Her wide brown eyes stared at the fluorescent colors—her tiny hand pressed up against the glass—the tank lights reflecting off her face.

“Papa! Phish!”, She called out for Robby, turning her entire body abruptly in Jack’s arms, making him readjust his grip.

“Careful, Peanut”, Jack warned softly, his own eyes wide as he watched her, willing his hold on her to keep up.

“I see the fish, Munchkin”, Robby says, stepping in next to them and smiling up at the fish that swim by.

The sound of people bustles around them, other families being drug along by their own toddlers seeing something across the room. A group of teenagers off in the distance.

It smells like seawater—not in the gross dead fish way, but salty and soft—wafting through the air. It’s slightly cool inside, overhead fans and misters in certain spots with signs that say ‘Feel the Ocean!’

Jack has no doubt that kids would be absolutely sucked in by all of it.

“What time is it?”, Robby asks, eyeing his watch.

Jack beats him to it; “10:30, tour starts at noon.”

He’d looked at the schedule, of course he had.

Robby smirks knowingly; “What should we go see first?”

They find themselves in the underwater viewing tunnels—polar bears and elephant seals swimming overhead—light reflecting off the water.

Nora’s eyes are wide, pointing at each animal that swims by. Making sure Robby sees, and then Jack.

The ‘Dory tank’ quickly becomes her favorite, running as fast as her small and chubby legs will carry her almost two year old body—pulling Jack by wrapping her entire hand around two of his fingers.

He grunts in surprise, struggling to catch up for a moment before he’s laughing; “Peanut you’re gonna take me out.”

Robby claps him on the shoulder, quickly adjusting the backpack slung over his shoulders; “Don’t worry, I know CPR.”

Jack shoots him a glare; “You’re so lucky the kid’s here.”

Nora’s hands are pressed up against the glass, face as close as she can get it without actually touching it—Robby and Jack had both scolded her twice already about the germs—her small mouth falling open with a grin as big as her face.

By the time 11:30 rolled around, Jack was leading the way towards the Penguin exhibit where the tour would start. Nora was now in Robby’s arms, giving Jack’s back a break. She weighed almost nothing to him, but the constant pulling on his neck and shoulders each time she bounced or lean towards something made him a little sore.

Robby set Nora down, letting her walk over to the giant tank in front of her, Penguins swimming around at her height as they dove in and out of the water.

“Nora, smile for mommy!”, Robby called out, kneeling down.

Nora grinned as wide as she could, a penguin swimming past her just as Robby captured the photo.

“I see?”, Nora asked, already climbing into Robby’s lap where he was crouched down.

“See? Very cute, huh?”

Nora giggled, eyes on Robby’s phone before she turned and wrapped her arms around his neck.

“Mommy see?”, Nora asked.

Robby nodded; “Mommy will love it, it’s a keeper. Think it should go on the fridge when we get home?”

Nora clapped happily at the idea of that.

Meanwhile, Jack noticed the employees starting to make their way out onto the landing from the doorway to the side. Then his world froze when his eyes landed on you.

Clad in your wetsuit, a ponytail braid down your back that swished back and forth as you walked. Clinging to you perfectly. Water shoes squeaking faintly, clearly slightly wet. His heart hammered against his rib cage. He didn’t notice Robby slide in beside him, Nora still in his arms.

It didn’t take long for you to find him, and once your eyes settled on his frame, your cheeks turned pink.

─ ─── ─── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ─── ─── ─

Starting a tour was absolutely second nature to you now. But you’d had nerves all day. Hell, you’d had nerves since earlier in the week when you met Jack. He’d been rattling around your brain ever since like he lived there.

When you followed your coworkers out onto the Penguin landing exhibit, you couldn’t help but let your eyes scan the group of people waiting. As soon as your eyes met his, you felt the blush creeping up your neck. Seeing the way he reacted the same, eyes unwavering and hovering over you—looking you up and down—had you biting your bottom lip in a last ditch effort to suppress a smile.

It didn’t quite work.

You offered him a wave that came off slightly shyer than you would’ve liked; but he didn’t seem to notice, and offered a wave back.

You could see the man you remembered as Robby nudging him with his elbow, eyes now trained on you as well—the little girl in his arms bouncing as she watched the Penguins.

After a quick introduction, it was your turn to talk, forcing you to finally pull your attention away and stand closer to the front.

You introduced yourself to the crowd; “But you can call me Skipper, I’ll be leading you on your tour today. Are you ready to see some animals?”

The response from families and kids around you was instant, but all you could see was Jack from the corner of your eyes; expression soft and gaze determined not to miss a thing. So the staring was an outside of work thing too, huh?

You didn’t mind. His eyes were soft in the way they were when he’d tended to your wound—like he was taking in every word you said and cataloging it for later—the same way he did with a patient’s information or a SWAT mission log.

God, you were screwed.

The tour went on smoothly, and as you talked, Jack found himself sinking deeper and deeper; like the ocean had opened up and swallowed him whole in the most peaceful and sunlit way.

He committed each fact you said to memory like his life depended on it; Octopuses have three hearts, the ocean produces 50% of earth’s oxygen, Angelfish choose one partner for life, a Blue Whale’s tongue is heavier than an entire Elephant, Dolphins are sleepwalkers, 50-80% of all life on earth is found under the ocean’s surface—he desperately wanted to seem like he knew something about your work.

You showed off starfish, turtles, dolphins. Jack watched with a childlike awe as you used simple hand signals for the dolphin, who happily obliged and did tricks for fish. He had no idea so much went into all of it.

His favorite though? Was finally getting to see Arlo the Beluga you talked so fondly about. He was huge to say the least. A permanent smile almost etched on his face.

Nora laughed when a spray of water from Arlo’s blow hole misted her face, clapping and bouncing where she was perched on Robby’s shoulder’s.

“‘Gain! ‘Gain!”

Jack—who was normally so enthused with his niece, only spared a quick smile at her before he was drawn back to you.

You with your bright smile and eyes to match as you held out different shells and artifacts. You who knew quick facts and talked so passionately about your work, you who kept glancing at him each time your eyes swept over the group of visitors in front of you.

Your heart stuttered in your chest each time you looked up to find his eyes already on you, like they never left in the first place.

─ ─── ─── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ─── ─── ─

By the time the tour ended in the stingray room, you were a little smug to say the least. Eyes flicking to where Jack stood each chance you got as you spoke with other guests. Taking in how he stood carefully behind Nora who was pressed up against the glass again, watching stingray’s swim by. Protective and oh so gentle.

Jack’s hand was carefully on the tot’s back as he crouched down next to her, dipping his face close to talk softly in her ear. Like he was making sure she knew all his attention was on her.

Eventually most of the guests cleared out, only a few staggering behind to check out other animals in the room. You quickly made your way over to the two doctor’s at the big tank—Jack already rising to his feet as he saw you approaching, taking Nora’s tiny hand in his.

“Well look who came”, You breathe out, smile engulfing your cheeks.

“Wouldn’t miss it”, Jack spoke.

His voice was softer than it had been in the ED, more relaxed and mellow. Like he belonged here standing with you.

“I hope it lived up to its expectations.”

“Oh, absolutely.”

Jack’s smile didn’t waver, a comfortable silence drifting over the room as you both looked each other over. You in your wetsuit, Jack looking so mundane and domestic out of scrubs it hurt. His hair a little more messy than usual, no doubt from Nora playing with it.

Robby cleared his throat.

“Papa! Up!”

The small voice and noise beside you snapped you both out of your gaze, eyes flicking to the brunette man as he lifted Nora up into his arms.

“Nice to see you again, Robby”, You say, offering a small nod; “Who’s this lil girly?”

“This is Nora”, Robby beams, tucking his head more to her level; “Nor, can you say hi?”

Nora offers you a small wave, hiding her face in the crook of Robby’s neck.

“Hi Nora, I heard you like fish?”

She perks up a bit at that; “Phish?”

“Mhm”, You nod, “Wanna meet one of my friends?”

Nora’s already nodding enthusiastically as you lead them back to Arlo’s tank. He’s already hovering close to the edge, head peeking out and still smiling.

“It’s almost Arlo’s feeding time, he’ll be so happy to see us”, You speak out loud, not really sure if it’s more towards Nora or yourself.

You climb onto the landing at the edge of the tank, pulling a bucket of fish over with you, snapping a pair of gloves on.

“These are his favorite.”

Almost on cue, Arlo’s halfway out of the water, looking almost like he could clap as he opens his mouth for the fish you throw him. The water splashes, Nora giggles in Robby’s arms.

“Do ‘gain!”, She shrieks.

All three of you laugh as you happily toss another fish Arlo’s way before turning back to Nora; “Wanna pet him?”

Nora’s eyes grow so wide there’s almost no iris left, looking up to Robby like she’s asking for permission.

“Cmere, I’ll show you how”, You explain how to be gentle, guiding Robby over so they’re both close enough.

You take Nora’s tiny hand and press it flat against Arlo’s nose, letting her pat it gently. Another squeal from her tiny body, now almost vibrating with excitement.

“He’s a little slimy, isn’t he?”, You beam, nose slightly crinkled as you look between the two.

Then you look up at Jack, who’s standing with his legs wide and arms folded across his chest, so similar to the way he had been when you first met him. A small twitch at the corner of his mouth. But his eyes gave him away. His love for Nora and seeing you with her practically pouring out onto the landing, and a hint of something else entirely that you couldn’t quite place as he looked back at you.

“Mommy, ‘icture?”, Nora asks.

“Sounds like a good idea to me”, Robby says, “Do you mind?”

He’s holding his phone out to you.

“Not at all.”

You switch spots with him, letting them stand against the tank in front of Arlo, raising the phone to take the picture when Robby cuts in again.

“Jack, get in here brother.”

He hesitates for a moment, before ultimately standing on the other side of him, squishing Nora comfortably between them. Both of her arms wrap around the back of their necks as he smiles crookedly, her few tiny teeth poking out.

“Smile!”

You take a few, pausing at the one where Jack and Nora are looking at each other—bright goofy smiles that make your heart ache. You wanted to burn it into your memory. Instead you hand Robby his phone back, watching as he walks off with Nora as his phone begins to ring, leaving you alone with Jack.

He’s rocking on his feet, back on his heels as he shoves his hands in his pockets.

“So Skipper, huh?”, He’s right back to teasing.

You groan; “Coworkers gave it to me when I started, not my first choice.”

Jack shrugs; “It’s on theme. Better than fruitcake.”

You quirk a brow; “Fruitcake?”

“One of our frequent fliers gave that one to Robby.”

Jack’s small smile turns a little mischievous.

“Oh i’m never forgetting that”, You laugh.

Jack laughs too, like the whole thing is so easy.

A beat of comfortable silence passes before he speaks again;

“Thank you for inviting us, really”, He says, rubbing the back of his neck; “Nora loved it.”

You don’t hesitate; “And you?”

Jack’s mouth parts at your forwardness, that stupid little smirk twitching again.

“I thought it was…nice.”

“Nice?”

“What? Nice is good!”

“Nice is what you say when something is boring but you don’t want to say it.”

“Trust me, I wasn’t bored.”

“Could’ve fooled me, Mr. ‘it was nice’.”

Jack sighs, shaking his head as he smiles at his shoes, rocking on his heels again.

“Fine. It was really interesting. I had a good time”, He sighs, but there’s no real heat behind it, rather amusement.

“See? Was that so hard?”

“You’re trouble”, He juts, eyebrows almost in his hairline.

You bite your lip, watching as he traces your face with his eyes, his own demeanor suddenly falling serious again.

“But seriously”, He says, “Thank you for having us. I really did enjoy it.”

You nod in return; “I’m glad you came.”

“Me too.”

Jack looks over to where Robby’s standing with Nora, talking away on the phone with Noelle; a softness taking over his features again.

“You really love her, don’t you?”, You ask, following his gaze.

“Yeah”, He says; “I’d do anything for her. She’s good for him too.”

He lets a beat pass.

“Don’t tell Robby that, I’ll be out a pony.”

“A pony, huh?”

“Secret side business.”

You snort at that, desperately trying to cover your mouth but the noise had already slipped out. You except him to cringe, but instead he looks, amused? Content? Happy?

Reveling in the fact that he finally got to hear it again.

Inside Jack’s heart did a flip at the noise. Wondering how many things he could say to make you laugh like that again.

“How’s your arm?”, He asks.

You flick your gaze down to your bandage.

“Pretty good. Doesn’t hurt anymore.”

Jack nods; “That’s good. I’d hate to see you still hurt.”

Your heart stutters.

“How can I repay you…for all this?”, He asks, gesturing around.

You wave him off.

“Again, patching me up was plenty. Thank you, Doctor Abbot.”

“Jack”, He says once, “You can call me Jack.”

“Ok, Jack.”

You test it out, tongue tingling at the shape of his name. Already liking the way it sounded. Yeah, that seemed perfect. Jack.

“There’s gotta be someway I can repay you. This couldn’t have been easy to set up.”

“Really it’s fine, Jack. My treat-“

“How about dinner?”

You freeze, mouth still parted and eyes wide as he continues with a smirk;

“My treat.”

You need an excuse, something believable, because if you’re honest with yourself—you’re already falling for him; and that seems dangerous.

But you don’t find one. Secretly? You’re relieved you don’t.

“Dinner sounds perfect”, You say, and then; “Just no seafood places. Too close to work.”

“Noted”, Jack smiles, nodding gently; “How’s next Friday?”

“Friday’s perfect.”

Suddenly you’re exchanging numbers with him, watching as he saves his name in your phone and you do the same to his. Then he’s saying goodbye all too soon, walking off to join Robby and Nora again; leaving the air around you too cold and lingering of his warmth and cologne.

You wave to them as they go, smiling down at your phone, breathing hitching as the new contact name staring back up at you.

‘Jack Abbot.’

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The early morning warmth clung to you after your shower, sleep still pulling at your eyes as you slid one of Jack’s t-shirts over your head. You did your best to wake yourself up—pulled your damp hair back and washed your face—a deep tiredness filled your body that felt like even eight uninterrupted hours couldn’t fix. But you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Jack was still asleep when you woke up, mouth parted and a similar exhaustion etched across his face. Still he looked relaxed, peaceful. You let him sleep in when you decided to shower, he needed it as much as you did; you knew he’d do the same for you without even a whisper of a second thought.

The steam from the shower engulfed you before dissipating as you opened the bathroom door to step out into the bedroom. Golden light spilled around the room. The faint smell of coffee. You stopped in your tracks at what you saw before you.

Jack was awake now—hair tousled with sleep as he laid in bed—the top half of his body propped up on pillows against the headboard. Your son laid curled up on his bare chest, impossibly tiny.

One of Jack’s large hands sat over the baby’s back, almost engulfing his small body completely. His other hand absentmindedly patted softly at your son’s bottom—almost instinctively, like he didn’t even need to think about it.

Your heart ached.

Feet shuffling across the room, you eased yourself back in bed, winching slightly at the sudden movement. Jack clocked it.

“You ok?”, He asked softly, brow furrowed and voice still deep and gravely.

You nodded; “Just still a little sore.”

He hummed softly in response, still watching you carefully; “How was your shower?”

“It felt amazing”, You breathed.

Post-partum was no joke, taking more out of you than you had originally thought. A body wide soreness that settled deep in your bones. The tiredness that joined it. But you took it in stride; you weren’t alone.

Jack was there. Every late night feeding; he was sitting up before you could move, scooping your son up to pass him carefully over to you. Midnight diaper changes? He was on it, prosthetic put back on at a speed he didn’t know he had in him; your son carefully balanced against him as he cooed softly to him.

If your son was wide awake at 3am? Jack happily stayed up with him, walking him down to the nursery and rocking him, patting his bottom softly again. He’d whisper stories about the two of you softly in his hair; stories from work that the tiny bundle against him had absolutely no clue what any of it meant. But that didn’t stop him from staring up at Jack with wide unfocused eyes. You’d found them both asleep in the rocking chair more than once.

Jack was there for it all.

Your hand brushed his arm as you settled back into the mattress, watching them with a swell in your heart and chest.

The tiny boy against Jack’s chest was half awake; teetering between sleep and full consciousness. His tiny brow furrowing every few moments as he looked at you with hazel eyes identical to his dad’s, trying hard to focus on you.

His mouth opening to an ‘o’ shape every so often—round, chubby cheek pressed against Jack’s chest. A tiny face that could only be described as being stolen directly from Jack, watching you intently.

Jack was quiet beside you, mouth and nose brushing softly over your son’s dark auburn hair; whisps of tiny curls tickling his skin. Ghosts of soft kisses being pressed against downy skin. He breathed in deeply, the smell only fresh newborn’s had invading his senses. He’d sit here all day if he could.

His eyes were distant, however, in that way they always were when he was thinking hard; looking at no specific spot in particular as he mindlessly kept rubbing softly against your son’s head; hand still patting his butt in sync.

“What’re you thinking about?”, You asked, hand running softly over his shoulder.

He snapped out of his daze, eyes darting up to you in a quick motion before he furrowed his brows. You couldn’t help noticing how much he looked the baby doing the same against his chest.

“It’s just…”, He sighed; “Nothing it’s probably stupid, nevermind.”

“Jack”, You say softly, “Come on, honey, you can tell me.”

He huffed again, his eyes glossy now.

“Just…someday he’s not gonna be small enough to lay here like this with me anymore…or he won’t want to.”

His voice is barely a whisper at the last part.

The look on his face breaks your heart into pieces.

“Oh baby”, You coo, thumb softly rubbing over his cheek; “He’s a week old. He’s not going anywhere.”

Jack didn’t answer right away, the look still etched on his face did the talking for him.

Eventually he huffed again; “He’s already bigger, heavier too.”

You couldn’t help but laugh; “By like a few ounces, maybe an inch.”

“That’s halfway to being taller than me.”

The smile on your face doesn’t waver as you run your hands through his salt and pepper curls.

“He loves his daddy so much already. I promise you, and that’s not going to change. Not even when he gets older. He’ll just show you in different ways”, You tell him, voice still soft.

Jack grunts, seemingly still dissatisfied by the idea of his baby getting any bigger.

“It might not always be by laying on your chest, but in other ways as he grows”; You squeeze his chin gently between your finger and thumb; “By tossing the ball around in the backyard, riding bikes with you. Holding your hand while walking, sitting on your shoulders. Asking you for help with girls and tying his first tie, asking you to tie his shoes and teach him how drive. It might be different things, but it’ll all be showing the same thing.”

Jack’s silent, breathing soft and lifting your son still cuddled on his chest ever so slightly.

“You’re too good at that, you know”, He mumbles.

“I try”, you shrug, but the smile on your face widens; “You’d do the same for me.”

He looks at you fully now, eyes tracing your face before he leans in carefully, pressing his lips softly against yours with a content sigh.

“I love you, so much. Thank you”, He mumbles against your lips.

He doesn’t need to voice what he’s thanking you for; for you, for giving him the tiny boy on his chest, for reassuring him—for all of it.

“I love you too.”

A dissatisfied noise comes from your son, making you both look down at him. He’s fully awake now, hazel eyes dancing over both of your faces.

“We love you too, tiny”, You coo, brushing a soft kiss against one of his round cheeks.

You run a finger over the skin there, still soft and squishy, delicate.

His covered hands smack softly against Jack’s chest, his face rubbing against his skin as he tries desperately to lift his head up enough to look up at Jack.

Jack moves on instinct, cupping the back of the small boy’s neck to help him, smiling when their eyes connect on each other. The baby squealing and cooing to itself in a language only he could understand.

“Hi buddy”, Jack coos back, “Just wanted some attention, huh? Daddy’s got you, bub.”

He lets a beat pass and then; “Promise you’ll slow down with growing a little, ‘kay? You’re gonna make your old man keel over before he’s ready.”

The baby grunts as if he’s agreeing.

You laugh; “He’s still gonna grow, Jack.”

A mischievous smile spreads on his face, and you can see the moment the thought pops into his head as he shrugs.

“Guess we’ll just have to have another then.”

You smack his arm playfully; “Only if you keep holding them like this.”

Sitting curled up next to him like that, watching him cradle your son on his chest so carefully and with enough love for a lifetime; you’d give him twenty more babies if he asked.

Content with the two boys next to you—you curls up under the covers and rest against Jack—cuddling into his warmth as he drapes one of his arms around you and pulls you closer, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. You run your fingers over your son’s cheek again, watching him look up at Jack with wide and unfocused eyes—and decide yeah, the rest of the world outside can wait.

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Jack Abbot was never really the type to feed himself the way a person should eat. He lived off of vending machine food and granola bars. He could cook—he’s actually a very good cook—but didn’t see the point after a twelve hour shift that left him dead on his feet.

But for you? He’d cook a three course meal if you asked. He made sure you had dinner when he was off, waited on you hand and foot.

You did the same for him. But more so; you kept him fed.

You started meal prepping lunches for him to take to work; sometimes just leftovers from the previous night or something you made new entirely the day before while he was at work. Then you started adding desserts and snacks; a donut or pastry from the corner bakery you both loved, homemade cookies or brownies.

You left yogurt and homemade granola, veggie sticks with dip, beef jerky. But the dinners you packed? God, Jack could die on that hill.

He couldn’t explain how happy and domestic it made him feel to open up his lunchbox and find you’d packed him leftovers from the lasagna you’d made. Or chili, or a sandwich that looked like it came straight from a deli. Wraps that were filled to the brim with turkey and lettuce and everything he liked in them. He’d groan every time he took that first bite, leaning back in his chair with a content sigh. Something dangerous playing in his heart.

You—his sweet girlfriend of a few months who lived in his t-shirts and padded around his apartment with a giddy step and had more kindness in your pinky than most people had in their entire body—packed him lunch like it was nothing. Taking care of him like it was second nature. For you, it was.

People noticed, because Jack Abbot didn’t eat on shift unless it was a handful of nuts or whatever stale thing fell out of the vending machine when he kicked it after it ate his money.

But along with Jack eating good, came the changes in his body. Not anything drastic or bad but…he got thicker. At first it was just a little more pull at his scrubs, nothing he couldn’t handle by adjusting his arms a little.

He didn’t get fat or out of shape just; broader, healthy fat lining his muscles. His pecs and biceps always strained against his shirts, but now they looked like they were seconds away from busting the seams open. His ass got rounder, cheeks slightly more plush that you grabbed every time he kissed you; making him yelp a noise of protest. Every. Single. Time.

Don’t even get started on his torso. Layered with a slight pudge at the bottom when he wore his belt, abs and back muscles visible and flexing underneath his movements. He looked divine. He was stronger, more solid and filled out. His scrub top looked more than two sizes too small, hanging on for dear life.

Even if people noticed, they didn’t say anything; not at first. But of course Robby would be the one to put a stop to that; coming to a halt as he walked by with an ipad in hand, looking at his best friend like he’d just committed a felony in front of him.

“Jesus brother”, Robby says; “Let that shirt breathe.”

Jack turned to look at him, pushing his elbows off the counter of the hub; “What?”

“You look like your shirt’s two seconds away from ripping”, Robby points out, like it’s common knowledge.

“I don’t-“

Dana appears out of thin air next to them; “He’s right. You’ve been eating actual food too.”

Jack’s mouth stays open for a second, before a smirk takes its place; “So what? People eat.”

“You”, Robby says, pointing at him with a look over his glasses; “Don’t eat.”

“This feels like a personal attack”, Jack scoffs, still slightly amused; “You don’t eat either.”

“Correct. But i’m not suddenly showing up two months later looking like an honorary Avenger about to bust out of his scrub top.”

Jack’s jaw ticks, eyes flicking between the two; “You’re unbelievable.”

Jack grabs his own tablet, throwing a mock glare at the two in front of him; “I have patients to see, you know, like a real doctor?”

Then he walks away, throwing a half-hearted wave and a middle finger at whatever Dana and Robby are calling out after him.

Robby shifts on his feet, scoff leaving his mouth; “Damn.”

Dana gives him a look; “Whatever you’re thinking Robinavitch; don’t.”

Robby shakes his head; “No…Abbot’s got a better ass than me.”

─ ─── ─── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ─── ─── ─

A week later Jack finds himself standing in the break room, pulling out the lunch box you packed for him—leftovers from dinner the night before. Pasta and bread that he happily reheated in the microwave and toaster oven.

A small yellow sticky note was stuck to the top of the container, his lips already twitching at the corners.

‘Baby! I can’t wait to see you today. Go kick ass & save lives, sexy doctor man !! I love you sooooo much !! PS: I left you a surprise from your fav place !!’ with a little smiley face and heart drawn below it.

Jack’s heart skipped a beat, feeling the heat climbing up his neck and ears; settling on his cheeks as he slipped the note into his pocket to hang in his locker later with all the other notes of yours he kept.

He settled at the round table in the break room, looking further into the lunch box where sure enough—he found a pastry from his favorite bakery around the corner from his apartment.

He took a bite of it, sighing and letting his eyes close as the sweet taste hit his tongue. Shoulders dropping a bit as he relaxed a little into the chair.

He didn’t even open his eyes when the break room door swung open, whoever was stepping inside slipped to the back of his mind.

“Woah, is that homemade pasta?”, Shen’s voice broke through his thoughts.

Jack grunted quietly in response, nodding as he leant forward to take a bite; “Maybe.”

“You got a professional chef at home we don’t know about?”

Jack smirked a little; “Something like that.”

He took another bite, knowing more questions were coming and secretly hoping Shen would just do whatever he came in to do and let him eat in peace—but this was the ED, the night shift nonetheless; and Jack knew that was wishful thinking.

The door swung open behind them, Ellis sliding up next to Shen—stopping in her tracks.

“Abbot’s got homemade pasta”, Shen says, eyes wide.

Ellis leans over to inspect; “Now I know you didn’t cook that yourself.”

Jack raises his brows; “I can cook.”

“Not like that”, Ellis defends; “You burnt the noodles at last year’s potluck.”

“Robby was distracting me.”

“Excuses.”

Jack huffed and took another bite of his food.

“A pastry too? Who’s packing you this stuff?”

Jack takes the last bite of his pasta, pushing himself out of his chair and packing up the empty container; “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

He can feel the eyes on him as he puts the lunchbox back into the fridge, pulls out a water and slips past them with a smirk; “Enjoy your break, crawlers.”

Ellis scoffs, turning to Shen; “Fifty bucks says he’s got a woman at home. He’s not cooking like that.”

“Sixty-five”, Shen says, holding out his hand.

Ellis shakes it; “Done.”

─ ─── ─── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ─── ─── ─

The buzz of Jack Abbot’s sudden new eating habits—that actually benefited his body more than a vending machine dinner—quickly reached every corner of the ED. Various bets and hushed whispers of different theories floated around med students and residents alike. Hell, even Robby’s name had made it up on the betting board.

Jack himself couldn’t care less, the hushed whispers of the bet made him smirk to himself; knowing it was driving his coworkers crazy.

He wasn’t keeping you a secret exactly; it had just never directly or seriously come up.

He didn’t pay too much mind to all the whispers about his new size, either—mostly brushing it off as teasing or Robby and Dana just trying to get him all riled up.

But now, as he stood in the bathroom of his apartment—tugging a soft grey t-shirt over his head after a much needed shower; he was starting to think what Robby had said may have some truth to it.

You can hear him huff to himself in the bathroom, words you can’t quite pick up on as you flip through TV channels. A soft groan of frustration or disbelief echoes through Jack’s room, making you sit up more.

“Baby?”, You call, “Everything ok?”

There’s another quiet murmur of something before Jack comes out of the bathroom; hair still damp, greying curls lightening up as they dry. Boxers clinging low on his hips, the grey shirt he has on doing almost nothing to cover the contour and outline of his muscles—clinging to him so close he might as well not even bother wearing it.

Your mouth goes dry, watching as he sets his crutches against the bedside table and slumps down onto the end of the bed—every muscle in his back moving and pulling the shirt fabric even tighter.

“M’fine”, He says, messaging his residual limb; “Just starting to think maybe Robby’s right.”

“Ok…?”, You breathe; “Don’t ever say those words again…but about what?”

Jack huffs a laugh; “I’m serious!”

You shimmy out from underneath the covers, walking on your knees to the end of the bed and letting your hands roam over Jack’s shoulders. He instantly leans into it—like he didn’t even have to think about it anymore.

“He said my scrub top looked too small”, Jack sighs.

“Really?”

“Well actually his exact words were ‘let that shirt breathe, you’re about to rip it’ but I was phrasing it nicer.”

You laugh; “What makes you think he’s right?”

Jack shrugs; “Didn’t notice anything until I tried to put this shirt on and it barely fits. It used to be loose on me…”

He trails off, something in his mind making him think extra hard.

You hum softly, continuing to rub at his shoulders and a little down his arms; playing with the damp curls at the nape of his neck.

It’s quiet in the room as Jack continues to massage the tension out of his leg, eyes flicking over whatever TV channel you’d landed on before he came out. You press a soft kiss to his nape.

“Am I bigger?”, He asks suddenly.

Your eyes widen, a surprised laugh escaping your lips; “W-What?”

“Am I bigger?”, He repeats; “Have I put on weight?”

You soften immediately, realizing by the scrunch in his brow; he’s insecure about this.

“Baby, no”, You coo, slipping around to settle into his lap.

His hands come up to your waist, immediately steadying you.

“You’re just eating good”, You assure him.

His brow stays furrowed, a slight pout on his face and lips; eyes not looking at you.

“I mean maybe you’ve put on a few pounds, but with your job and SWAT; it’s all muscle, my love”, You say, letting your fingers comb through his hair.

He doesn’t answer yet, but his brow softens, eyes flicking towards yours now as you move your face in front of his.

“You’re so broad”, You whisper, hands roaming his shoulders again; “So strong.”

“Yeah?”, He asks, eyebrows raising a bit.

You nod, bottom lip between your teeth; “Yeah.”

You giggle softly when you feel his fingers flex at your waist, the way he shivers when you let your hands drift under his shirt—palms pressing flat against his torso. You let them settle there for a moment, fingers tapping against skin before you pull them back—tugging upwards at the hem.

His ears are pink now, but he doesn’t hesitate; pulling the shirt up and over his head with one pull at the back of the collar. It lands somewhere on the floor, but your attention remains on him.

Pale skin with a slight farmers tan disappearing by his elbows; laid out bare in front of you. His eyes flicking around the room, hands back at your waist.

With a soft hand on his jaw, you force him to look at you.

“You’re so thick”, You murmur, pressing a kiss to his bare shoulder.

His grip of your waist tightens, a breath leaving his nose.

Your kisses travel over his skin, trailing over his shoulders and torso; leaving no spot unmarked.

“So full and filled out.”

Kiss.

“So muscular.”

Kiss.

“So handsome.”

Your compliments start drifting elsewhere as you let your kisses trail over him.

“So kind.”

Kiss.

“So caring.”

Another kiss.

“So good to me.”

A kiss to his neck.

Your hands stop at the bottom of his torso, just below his belly button where the slightest bit of softer skin sits just above his waistband. You smooth your hands over it, feeling the muscle below it tense.

You look up, finding Jack’s cheeks the same color as his ears—his eyes wide and waiting. You pinch his skin once, before letting your hands roam back up his freckled arms to his shoulders; cupping his nape in your hands.

“You’re so beautiful, Jack”, You murmur.

A shaky breath leaves him, your lips against his cheeks and nose. He pulls back, eyes searching yours.

“God, I love you”, He huffs, pulling you in for a kiss.

His lips press firm against yours, hands traveling up your back and settling on your ribs. Jack’s forehead stays against yours when he pulls back, eyes still closed.

“It’s your fault, ya know”, He smirks.

You shrug; “I know, and I’m gonna keep feeding my man good.”

He lets out a noise between a groan and something of disbelief when you move off his lap, finding your way back to your spot on the bed. He follows you, rolling over to lay on his stomach; arms framed around his head and tucked under his pillow.

“Besides”, You say, mischievous smile growing; “Your ass looks ridiculously good.”

He yelps when your hand comes in contact with his ass, eyes wide as pink practically runs up his neck.

“Baby!”

“M’not even sorry”, You say, leaning in to capture his lips before he can protest any further.

─ ─── ─── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ─── ─── ─

Something in Jack settles after that, most of the insecurity gone. He takes all the comments from Robby and Dana in stride. He still eats what you pack him, still keeps your notes.

He frowns when he goes to get his lunchbox out, finding it missing with a note in its place.

‘No lunch today, baby. Got a surprise for you!’

He can’t help the way his lips turn up at the corner, curiosity taking over when the door behind him swings open.

“Abbot! We got a MVA coming in”, Dana’s voice cuts him out of his thoughts.

“How long?”

“About two minutes.”

Jack sighs once, putting his bag away and following Dana out the door; the part of him trying to figure out what you were up to slipping to the back of his mind.

About two hours later, the bay doors open around you; boxes stacked in your hands as you wander towards the hub.

“You need help there, hon?”, Dana’s voice comes.

She’s standing at the hub, brows quirked in amusement and confusion.

“Oh hi!”, You chirp; “I just brought some lunch for my boyfriend and his co-workers. Not really sure where to put it though.”

Dana’s smile grows; “Well why didn’t you say so? Follow me, we’ll put those in here.”

She shows you to the break room, holding the door open as you slip in.

“So boyfriend huh? Which one of our lucky med students gets all this food?”, She asks, leading you back to the hub.

“Oh! He’s not a med student, he’s a doctor! Uh, Jack?”, You say.

Dana’s smile widens even further; “So you’re the one who’s feeding our grumpy guy?”

Robby’s head whips up from the other side of the hub, Ellis and Shen slowing to a stop behind him.

You can’t help the laugh the slips out; “He looks grumpy sometimes, but he’s actually not. It’s all a ruse.”

It’s Dana’s turn to laugh; “Huh.”

“He thinks he’s got everyone fooled, but he’s just a big—“

“Sweetheart?”, Jack’s voice breaks through.

Your eyes light up immediately, rushing to meet him halfway; “Jack!”

You meet his chest with a soft thud, arms wrapping around him as you lean up and press a kiss to his lips. He’s frozen for a moment, but immediately melts into the kiss once your lips meet his. His strong hands find your waist, smoothing over them; keeping you both grounded.

Nothing else around him matters in that moment—not whatever trauma he’d just stepped out of, not the fact that his leg was a little sore, not the fact that the ED had fallen almost silent around you; and not Robby or his coworkers bewildered gazes.

He’s melted into you as you wrapped your arms around his torso, tucking yourself under his arm; hand rubbing softly over his ribs.

“Baby!”, You hum; “I missed you.”

Jack’s eyes wander over you; “I missed you too, sweetheart.”

There’s a moment where his brain catches up, and he’s suddenly tilting your head up to look at him; worried eyes checking over your features.

“What’re you doing here? Are you ok? Are you hurt?”, His questions come rambling out.

You giggle, squeezing his side; “I’m fine! I brought you and your friends some lunch. It’s in the break room.”

Jack softens, a small graze of his lips against your head; “Sweetheart, you didn’t have to do that.”

“I know”, You shrug; “But I wanted to.”

The gazes around you narrow, mouths agape at this Jack.

Jack Abbot was a lot of things in the ED; assertive, leading, confident, level-headed, kind, always looking out for everyone in his own quiet way; but he wasn’t soft.

But with you? Jack crumbled under your gaze, the strong-willed and grumpy looking attending was a smiling and sweet puddle in your arms.

“I got that coffee that you like”, You hum.

Jack dips his head down closer to hear you; “From the deli?”

“Mhm, it’s at home on the counter. Where do you think I got the sandwiches from?”

Something sparkles in his eyes; “That’s what you brought us for lunch? Baby, that’s too much.”

But the glint of excitement stays in his eyes.

You tsk and wave him off; “Not for you.”

His face goes unbearably fond, eyes and smile soft. His lips brush against your ear.

“You’re gonna spoil us”, He says, voice low and raspy.

“Let me”, You smirk.

Behind you, Robby finally clears his throat; “Jack you gonna introduce us or do we all just not exist now?”

“You don’t”, Jack rolls his eyes, smirking as Robby feigns hurt.

Jack introduces you, pointing to each of his colleagues that have gathered around; “That’s Robby, he’s annoying.”

You smack his chest; “Be nice!”

Jack doesn’t falter; “That’s Dana, she makes this place run smoothly. Behind her are Ellis and Shen.”

“Oh! You’re Dana!”, You smile; “I’ve heard so much about all of you.”

“Oh really—“, Robby starts before Dana stops him with a flick to the back of his neck; “Ow!”

Jack takes that as an opportunity to steer you away from the crowd and into the break room; Whitaker slipping out the door with a mouthful of sandwich from one of the boxes.

“Well it seems like they like the sandwiches”, You say, watching as Jack himself digs into the boxes you’d left on the counter.

“I labeled yours”, You add.

Jack finds his as the words leave your mouth, unwrapping it as he lowers himself onto the small couch—patting his lap; “‘Cmere.”

You drift towards him with a magnetic pull you’ll never be able to explain, finding your spot on his good leg. Hands drifting up to play with the curls on his head; a little sweaty now from working.

He hums around another bite of sandwich, his free arm resting at your back; “Thank you for this, really sweetheart.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Jack. I like taking care of you”, You tell him.

The smile on your face matches his as he presses a kiss to your temple, offering you a bite that you gladly accept.

“Your friends seem nice”, You add; “Kinda quiet though.”

Jack scoffs, smirk crooked; “Give them a chance.”

“We should have them over sometime, for a barbecue or something.”

Jack hums, palm circling your lower back; “Whatever you want, baby.”

You reach out and grab his chin, catching him off guard; his mouth still half open as he went in for another bite—brows in his hairline.

“I love you”, You coo, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

He chases after your lips; “I love you too, sweetheart.”

You let his lips take over yours, warm and present. You jump when you pull back, checking your watch; “Oh! I gotta get going, I’m gonna be late.”

Jack pats your bum as you press another kiss to his lips, slipping out of his lap and heading towards the break room door. You turn back when you get there, smiling at Jack whose eyes have never left you.

“See you at home?”, He asks, not really wanting you to leave.

You nod, bottom lip between your teeth; “With dinner and a hot bath ready.”

Jack groans, already aching to be cuddled up with you and unwind from his shift. You blow him a kiss with a soft wave, that he happily returns before you slip out the door; leaving him alone in the break room.

He can still feel your weight on his lap, your fingers in his hair and your lips against his—a blush and smile creeping up on him as he leans forward for another bite of his sandwich;

“So ‘baby’, huh?”, Robby’s voice comes.

“Shut up, Robinavitch”, Jack juts.

The sound of a clipboard hitting the floor and Robby yelping as he jumps out of the way are all that Jack hears as the door swings shut; humming softly to himself—more than ready to come home to you.

Jack Abbot is a lot of things; strong, intelligent, well-liked, level-headed, quick to react, reliable and good at his job. If you knew him well enough you’d find he’s pretty funny despite his dry sense of humor, very down to earth and has quite the sweet tooth. One thing you absolutely wouldn’t expect by just looking at him was his love for gossip.

With his sharp jawline and casually neutral face—grumpy in a way that was unfairly handsome—chin donned with grey stubble and hair to match. Sharp eyes that noticed everything. He’s an ex-army man with a night shift attending badge clipped to his pants pocket who only drinks his coffee black—he survived losing half his leg, and yet—Jack enjoyed using all of that to his advantage.

Any newcomer at the Pitt was quickly intimidated by him—almost choked to death anytime Robby or Dana, hell; even if Shen or Ellis picked on him or called him old. Desperately looking for a patient to tend to before they saw one of their coworkers die or get scolded. But it never came, just a small twitch at the corner of his lips that was quickly so uniquely Jack.

So no, looking at Jack you’d assume he probably kept to himself—and for the most part he did. But once you got to know him a little? It wouldn’t be long before the truth came out;

Jack Abbot is a big fat gossip.

He never started the conversations, he’d wait until someone else did and just…effortlessly slide himself right into them. But you could always tell when he’d heard something new.

Like now, as you’re walking in next to him for your shift; he’s practically vibrating. An extra bounce in his step, his hands closing and unclasping at his sides. He’s shifting on his feet way more than he usually does; and he keeps crossing and uncrossing his arms.

You try your best to keep your eyes on the board—an ever growing list of patients above you. You try to ignore him, try to start your shift and at least make an attempt to head towards your first patient; but when he leans against the counter with a rather obnoxious exhale through his nose and scratches at his scruff—you finally break.

“Alright Gossip Girl, what is it?”, You ask, crossing your own arms and lifting a brow.

Jack practically shoots off the counter, straightening up and stepping closer to you. He looks around once before speaking.

“Robby and Noelle are hooking up.”

He says it with both brows raised and eyes so wide you swear they’d pop out at any second.

Your mouth falls open before you can stop it; “SHUT UP—“

Eyes from every direction flick towards you, your reaction a little louder than you wanted it to be.

“Jesus kid-“, Jack shushes you quietly; nervously looking around before he gently pulls you into the empty break room.

His hand is still on your elbow when you speak up. You force the acknowledgement at the way your skin burns perfectly at his touch to the back of your mind; store it away for later.

“Robby and Noelle!?”

He nods; “Mhm.”

“How?? When?? Robby??”, All your questions tumble out at once.

Jack shrugs, slipping his hands in his scrub pockets; “Don’t know for sure, long enough that it set McKay’s alarm bells off.”

“…Oh this is too good”, You say, eyes focused on the floor as you comb through every thought that’s now popping into your head.

“It gets better”, Jack says, leaning closer; “Dana said Noelle told her Robby sleeps with the tv on.”

Your mouth opens. Closes. Then opens again. The smug smirk on Jack’s face does nothing to help you. Neither does the scrunch of your nose when you realize what you’re really hearing.

“That’s way more than I needed to know about Robby”, You say.

Jack grunts something close to a laugh; “You’d be surprised.”

“Wait”, You tilt your head; “Wouldn’t you already know that about him?”

Jack’s smirk deepens; “Well yeah, but”, He leans even closer; “How would she know that?”

The information hits you again, your brain swirling at a speed that’s too fast for before coffee.

“Oh my god”, You breathe.

Jack laughs across from you, actually laughs. You force yourself to ignore what that does to your heart.

“I don’t think I can even look at him now”, You say, “I’d laugh in his face, it’s too good. I’d-“

Jack’s hand on your shoulder stops you; “Woah, kid. Don’t go spiraling on me now.”

“I’m not…it’s just so?-“

“Strange? Weird? Bordering on haunting?”

“Well, yeah!”, You say, hands flying in the air.

Jack laughs again, you ignore what it does to your heart; again.

“Careful kid”, He says, leaning in way too close; “Gotta work on your poker face or I won’t be able to share with my favorite resident.”

Favorite resident.

Your heart does a somersault and the air leaves your lungs; heat rising to your cheeks.

His hand on your lower back lingers for a moment before he pulls away, leaving your skin cold and missing the contact.

“Cmon, gotta get back out there before Dana threatens to put us all in triage”, He says, that crooked smirk playing at his lips.

It stays there as you watch him push the break room door open with his shoulder, disappearing back into the noisy hum of the ED; leaving you standing there with your mouth parted and your heart beating way too fast to be close to normal.

─ ─── ─── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ─── ─── ─

Three hours and too many patient charts later, you finally get a moment to sit down and let your feet rest. You take a drink of your water, crack your back once and lean back in your chair; letting your eyes close and hoping you get at least a few minutes.

That dream is quickly wrecked within seconds.

You feel him before you see him, not even having to open your eyes to know who’s standing next to you—the shadow of his strong frame blocking out the blaring fluorescent lights above you. The heat you can always feel radiating off of him. Warmth you so desperately want to sink into, wrap your arms around him and nose into his neck. You briefly wonder if his cologne would smell stronger against his skin like that, or if there’d be something you’d learn to be so uniquely and purely him.

You sigh, snapping yourself out of it. Eyes still closed as you cling to the last remaining bit of peace you’ll get before he speaks and resumes his mission to annoy you as much as he can. Not that you mind in the least bit.

“What Jack?”, You breathe, fighting the smile that’s trying so hard to creep onto your lips.

“How’d you know it was me?”, You can hear the smirk in his voice.

“You reek of antiseptic and annoyance.”

A noise escapes him next to you, something between a laugh and a sound of disbelief.

“Oh so you know what I specifically smell like?”, He juts.

You feel your face heat up immediately, air leaving your nose. You fumble to keep yourself composed, a string of muttered words leaving your mouth.

You peek your eyes open, peering up at a way too smug Jack. Enjoying how flustered he’s made you. His strong arms crossed over his chest; biceps bulging under his too tight scrub top. Freckles decorating his skin all the way up his arms; grey curls looking unfairly good and framing his face in a way that should be illegal—

“What do you want, Jack?”, You feign annoyance.

“What makes you think I want something?”, His answer comes from pursed lips.

“You’re hovering.”

“I’m standing.”

“You have a look on your face”, You throw back.

“My face always looks like this.”

“Unfortunately.”

“Hey—“, His mouth opens, but you cut him off.

“Jack.”

“Hm?”

“What”, you sigh; “Do you want?”

His mouth is crooked in the way it gets when he’s trying to hide a smile or the fact that he’s amused; but it always gives him away. You know that look and all of his looks too well by now. Unconsciously memorized and stored away for later with all the other information you’ve filed away about him. Normal, completely casual.

It certainly has absolutely nothing to do with whatever feelings flutter to life inside your chest and set your very being alight each time you seem him. That certainly wasn’t the case, even now; when he’s standing so close you can smell his cologne and something underneath it that’s just uniquely Jack—

You snap yourself out of it before the heat climbing up your neck once again can reach your face. Forcing yourself to stay calm—steady.

Jack, who hasn’t moved from where he’s standing; that ridiculously and frustratingly adorable crooked smirk still on his face—takes a step closer to you.

“Did you know Shen has a secret supply of free drink vouchers from Dunkin?”, Jack says.

You roll your eyes; “Did you know you and Robby have matching tattoos?”

Jack falters for a moment, mouth falling open before heat pinkens the tips of his ears; “We do not!”

You shoot him a smirk, grabbing your drink and rising to your feet to walk around him. He’s following you half a stride later.

“W-Where did you even hear that?”, He gawks.

You shrug; “I’ve got my own sources.”

A second later he’s in front of you, arms up in defense as he shakes his head; eyes closing for a moment; “Woah. Woah—I—ok, you’re screwing with me, aren’t you?”

“How’s it feel?”, You muse.

You watch as his tongue peeks out to lick his bottom lip, a crooked twitch of his mouth as he rubs at the back of his neck; “You’re mean, kid.”

“And you’re a gossip”, You shoot back.

Jack pushes his hands into his pockets; “I might be.”

You can’t help rolling your eyes again; “Why would you even care if Shen’s was true? You hate Dunkin.”

“I’m nosey”, He shrugs.

“You’re something.”

But that only makes Jack’s smirk grow wider, twitching again in the way that sets your heart ablaze. God, he was gonna be the death of you.

─ ─── ─── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ─── ─── ─

A few weeks later, you’re strolling into the hustle and bustle of the ED for another shift. Bracing yourself for the incoming influx of patients from the holiday. The Fourth of July was always busy with firework accidents and heat stroke—among other injuries you didn’t even want to ask about.

You hoped it would at least be relatively smooth—close enough to a regular shift; that unfortunately would soon become the furthest from the truth.

You slid up next to Robby with a few patients, following Dana’s directions; having opted to come in a little early to help out day shift. The ED was already busy, already bustling with patients of all different kinds. McKay had a firework injury, Santos had a nun with gonorrhea in her eye that she deemed an “immaculate infection.” Donnie had a priaprism, Mel and Langdon had set up a cool room and Javadi was helping a girl with glue in her eye. Not to mention the fact that a baby had been found in triage and was now being lovingly referred to as baby Jane Doe. Never a dull moment.

As if the shift couldn’t get any crazier—an hour later the ambulance bay doors opened and who came rushing through with a gurney but Jack Abbot. A Jack Abbot in uniform, nonetheless.

Camo fatigues hugged his body close, sweat already peaking through the fabric. Damp hair matched as he called out to Robby. SWAT team rushing in behind him. You can’t help but stare.

“Intubated neck wound, stats not great. Is there a trauma room open?”, Jack calls out.

You’re quick to snap yourself out of it—joining him at the other side of the gurney, rushing along side him; “What’s the story?”

“My buddy Hiro, neck trauma. Warehouse robbery gone wrong”, Jack fills you in.

He doesn’t say much after that, setting up immediately once inside the trauma room. You can see he’s tense by his shoulders and jaw—worried for his friend. You jump into the chaos, helping any way you can.

“Did you intubate?”, Trinity asks, working alongside you.

“Yeah”, Jack says, not looking up; “Under active fire.”

You don’t miss the way he looks back over his shoulder, eyes flicking down as if looking for something that isn’t yet visible—or the way he winces when he rolls his shoulders.

“That’s badass”, Santos says, smiling to herself as she assists Robby.

You on the other hand; only have worry clinging to the back of your neck—hairs standing on end as you look at Jack.

It doesn’t take long for all the hands working on Hiro to get him stabilized enough to send him up to surgery. The room clears out, leaving Jack and Robby the last two lingering inside. You’re pulled into another case before you can get to Jack, forcing your worry down for later.

When you finally get a moment, Jack is nowhere to be found. The ED settling back into its regular busy hustle before SWAT had rolled in. You pick up another chart, going to check on one of your patients. What you find however when you pull the curtain back isn’t a patient—but rather the man you’ve been looking for the past few hours.

Jack Abbot stands shirtless, back to you with a very visible bruise forming on the back of his left shoulder. He turns at the sound of the curtain being pulled back, glancing around the room.

“Oh! I—sorry!”, You blurt out, cheeks heating up; “I was looking for my patient.”

Jack continues moving, sitting down on the exam bed—sliding the tray of sterilized tools he’d already set up towards him. He sets his black tee down on his lap, maneuvering the supplies.

“No patient here”, He says; “Room was empty when I got here.”

You furrow your brows, but push the thought to the back of your mind. All you can focus on is Jack—the injured Jack sitting in front of you.

“Shit, Jack”, You say, mind rushing back to the present; “You’re hurt, what happened?”

You’re already reaching for the glove dispenser on the wall, making your way around him as he reaches for his back with a swab—failing to reach far enough.

“Bullet grazed my vest”, He says, waving a hand.

“You got SHOT?”, You blurt.

“Shot at”, He says, brows raised with a shrug; “Anyways, I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me.”

But you do worry about him; more than he knows.

You ignore his words, taking the swab from his outstretched hand and gently clean the wound on his shoulder.

“Thank you”, He sighs, voice going soft.

You can’t help the smile that breaks onto your lips, soft and gentle just for him; “Anytime.”

Knowing he’s ok and safe, your mind drifts now—focusing more on the fact that he’s sitting shirtless in front of you. Thick and strong body built and freckled; just enough healthy fat around his mid-section that it settles over his belt when he sits down. Broad shoulders that stretch each scrub top he owns. You want to explore them, connect all the freckles that etch his skin—press kisses to the paleness of him.

You feel yourself bite your bottom lip, willing the heat returning to your cheeks to climb back down. To act normal.

“You ok?”, Jack asks, noticing your quietness.

“Yup, perfect”, You say.

You don’t see his quirked brow, and whatever he’s thinking—he keeps to himself. Shuffling to grab his t-shirt off his lap when you finish patching him up.

“Thanks for keeping this off the books”, He says, offering you a crooked smirk.

You nod, bottom lip still between your teeth; “Sure.”

He eyes you suspiciously when you don’t move, even after his shirt is pulled back on; “You sure you’re ok, kid?”

“Yeah!”, You answer to quickly; “I better go see if Dana needs anything, uh…I’ll see you later? For your shift?”

Jack huffs a laugh; “Yeah, see you there crawler.”

With that you spin on your feet, rushing out of the room; leaving a smiling and curious Jack behind.

─ ─── ─── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ─── ─── ─

You find yourself at the hub, hiding your face in your hands—elbows resting against the top of the counter.

“What’s got you so flustered?”, Santos asks, looking up from her charting beside you.

You groan; “I don’t even know if I can say.”

Princess perks up on the other side of you; “Ok, now we need to know.”

You groan again, looking around you once to make sure no one else can hear. Thankfully spotting Jack leaving through the ambulance bay doors.

Santos follows your line of sight; “Something happen with Dr. Abbot?”

You push your face back into your hands; “God. What didn’t happen.”

Both of them eye you with quirked brows.

“I saw him…shirtless”, You mumble.

Princess’ face lights up; “Oh you lucky girl!”

“And?”, Santos asks.

You can’t help but groan again; “He’s unfairly hot. Like, so built and fit it should be illegal. He has no business looking that good in an ER.”

The women next to you exchange glances, before bursting out into laughter beside you.

“Sounds like someone has a crush on Dr. Abbot”, Santos says.

“Who doesn’t?”, You quip back, like it’s common knowledge and not about you.

Princess sighs on the other side of you.

“He’s like the McDreamy of the Pitt…or the Clooney”, She sighs.

“He’s better than McDreamy and Clooney, he’s like…McClooney.”

Laughter erupts around you again.

“So you and Abbot, huh?”, Santos asks.

“God, I don’t know. I mean we’re friends yeah, but I don’t think he even knows how I feel. Or that he’d even feel the same”, You sigh.

“I don’t know, I’ve seen him look at you. Seems like something’s there”, Princess says; “You should talk to him.”

Your face heats up way too fast; “I can’t do that! Are you crazy?”

Princess shrugs; “You never know what he’ll say.”

You sigh, nodding. You know she’s right, but you can’t push past the nerves or the fear that you might ruin a friendship you deeply value.

“He’s gone for a few hours anyways, I just need to get back to work”, You say, reaching for a new iPad.

You turn on your feet with another sigh.

“Go get your McClooney!”, Princess calls out behind you, making you shush her.

You shrink under all the glances your way, hurrying along to find Dana and focus on literally anything besides your feelings towards Jack.

─ ─── ─── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ─── ─── ─

It’s a few hours later when Jack strolls back into the ED, camo backpack slung over one shoulder. Patients still bustle around him; Robby’s still forcing himself to work longer.

The hub is buzzing with a few staff; Princess, Santos, Nazely, Dana and Perlah all huddled together. Jack heads towards the staff room, but he stops when he hears your name.

“Oh she’s got it bad”, Santos says; “You should’ve seen her, she was absolutely flustered over seeing him shirtless. Poor girl can’t hide her crush if she tried.”

Jack feels his heartbeat pick up.

“Our girl’s got it for Abbot, huh?”, Dana says, smiling to herself; “Can’t believe I didn’t see it.”

Jack’s heart stops at the mention of his name—then quickly picks back up. A smile spreads on his face before he can stop it, ducking and shaking his head as he pushes the door to the staff room open. He knew how he felt about you, but hearing you felt the same way towards him? His entire shift just got a whole lot better.

He keeps it to himself during handoffs, even during his beginning of shift speech as everyone gathers around him. His eyes flick to you once; standing between Cruz and Ellis. His smile doesn’t falter, a warm feeling fluttering behind his ribs.

He lets you go about your shift, getting swept into a few cases of his own. It’s nearing nine when he finally comes face to face with you; a much needed silence in the break room.

He’s leaning up against the counter with a cup of coffee when you come in, stopping in your tracks when you see him.

“Oh! Sorry, didn’t know you were in here”, You say.

Jack scoffs a laugh; “What? You avoiding me now?”

“No”, You say, a little too quickly.

“Good.”

He watches you cross the room, opening the fridge and pulling out an energy drink. The noise of the can cracking open fills the room, a soft sigh escaping your lips as you lean up against the counter beside him—a little more space between you than usual.

Silence fills the air as you both drink, enjoying the few minutes of peace you might get before it’s interrupted. Jack, as if sensing your calm—decides now’s the time to get you all riled up.

“So”, He says, tracing the rim of his paper cup with his pointer finger; “I heard something interesting earlier.”

You scoff; “Of course you did.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”, He asks, brow quirked and faking offense.

“Jack”, You say; “Do you really want me to answer that?”

“No”, He shrugs, smiling to himself as he sets his cup on the counter behind him.

You shake your head, doing the same with your can; “Lay it on me, Abbot.”

Jack juts his chin out, scratching at his scruff.

“I heard…someone that works here has a crush on me”, He says.

You feel your stomach drop, embarrassment rushing to your cheeks and ears.

“Something about ‘unfairly hot, so built it should be illegal’”, He says; “‘Hotter than McDreamy and Clooney?’”

“Jack I-“, You try to rush something out, but no words come out.

Your brain has shut down. You blink away the tears brimming your eyes.

But Jack just takes a step towards you, hands settling on your arms. His thumbs rub up and down, digging softly into your scrubs.

Then he hooks a finger under your chin, guiding you to look up at him. What he finds is a look he can only describe as guilty.

“Hey”, He says softly, ducking his head down to meet your eyeline.

“I’m sorry, Jack”, You rush out; “It’s highly inappropriate and I shouldn’t have said anything. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, we can just forget this ever happened and go back to being friends. If you even still want to be my friend. I’m so sorry—“

“No”, Jack says.

You freeze; “What?”

“I don’t think I can do that”, He says softly.

“I’m so sorry Jack…”, You mutter, fearing the worst.

“I’m not.”

You look up at him fully then, finding him gazing back at you fondly—a soft crooked twitch of his lips taking over his face.

“You’re not…?”

“No”, He says; “Not when it’s you.”

Your breath catches.

“Sweetheart, I’ve felt the same way about you for so long.”

Your mouth falls open. This time you can’t will it to shut again.

“God, you drive me crazy, kid. It’s always been you”, He confesses, voice soft and deep.

Your chest is heaving by now, mouth dry and eyes wide.

But then you smile; “It’s always been you too, Jack. For so long.”

His smile widens to match yours; “Cmere.”

He pulls you in close, wrapping his strong arms around you. He doesn’t kiss you yet, not here; he doesn’t want the first time to be in the ED. Not when you deserve a real date, to be treated right.

He lets his lips ghost over your hair, pressing softly once against your crown. He rubs his hand up and down your back, before laying his cheek against your hair.

When he pulls away, his thumbs rest softly on your hips; digging in just enough to let you know he’s still there. His smile hasn’t wavered, if anything it’s only grown fonder.

“So we’re ok?”, You finally ask.

Jack laughs softly; “More than ok, kid.”

Quiet settles between you both again, comfortable and warm as you take each other in with new awareness on both sides. Then Jack shifts once; pushing himself off the counter.

“C’mon”, He says, pulling you with him.

“Where?”, You ask.

“The roof”, He tells you; “Gonna watch the fireworks. I know how much you like them.”

You feel your heart melt with fondness, before the lingering concern for him creeps up behind it.

“Jack”, You say softly, stopping him; “It’s ok, we don’t have to. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

“I’m not”, He says, offering you a smile and a small squeeze of his hand; “I want to watch them, with you.”

So you follow him up the stairs to the roof, heart pounding loud enough to echo—letting him guide you with a steady hand on your lower back.

Most of the dayshift is already up there, gathered towards the railing of the roof. Jack finds a spot just in front of the doorway, leaning up against the brick wall. Away from the crowd and somehow seeming a little more private.

You settle in next to him, closer than you were in the break room. The first few fireworks go off, and for the first time; Jack doesn’t flinch. By the tenth, he reaches quietly for your hand; interlacing his fingers with your own.

Not out of fear or bad memories, just grounding himself. That makes you fold; you let your head drift down softly to rest against his shoulder—watching the sparkles of blues and reds paint the sky above you.

Jack brushes his lips briefly against your hair again, pressing once before he turns his head back—squeezing your hand softly. You stay like that; cuddled up against him in the back of the day shift crowd—a new, stronger feeling blossoming between you. Sweetly intimate and warm. Something existing just for the two of you.

“Happy fourth, Jack”, You hum, pressing your lips to his shoulder.

He squeezes your hand again, looking back at you as a sparkle of blue illuminates his face; “You too, sweetheart.”

The sound of sizzling bacon and a knife hitting the cutting board surrounded Jack in the kitchen, where he stood in front of the stove—chopping away at strawberries and grapes.

Your second and youngest son, Clay, strapped to his chest in a baby carrier he was quickly outgrowing. Too quickly for his poor old man’s liking. Still, Jack would put him in there until that day came.

He found himself humming softly, his nose nudging at Clay’s soft hair.

“What’dya think, Clay boy? Would Mama want bananas too?”, Jack asks aloud.

Clay looks at him with fierce determination. At almost one—the words are almost there—but not quite making their way out yet. Instead, Clay huffs a gurggly noise that sounds close enough to an answer for Jack.

He nods once; “Yeah, I thought so too.”

So Jack starts peeling a banana, cutting it up into bite size pieces and holding a piece of it out to his small son, who happily takes it with drool covered hands and gums at it with the few teeth he has. A happy shrill fills the kitchen.

Jack laughs, eyes wide; “Shh buddy, you’re gonna wake your Ma.”

Clay pays him no mind, going back to smacking on the now mushed banana that’s half against Jack’s shirt.

He moves through the kitchen like it’s second nature—mindlessly talking to Clay like he’s half expecting an answer back as he reaches for the pancake mix on-top of the fridge; when the sound of small bare feet padding down the hallway gets his attention.

Your oldest son, Noah—who’s just barely two, comes padding out into the kitchen rubbing his eyes sleepily. The blanket he’s had since he was a newborn half trails on the floor behind him; fist gripped tightly around it. The tot finds Jack quickly, wrapping both arms around his lower leg and pressing his face into it.

“Morning, sweetie”, Jack says softly, ruffling the toddler’s deep auburn curls; “Did you sleep good?”

Noah lets out a soft and muffled “mhmph”, against Jack’s shorts, making him laugh.

Jack reaches for a spatula, making the toddler stand on his tippy-toes to see what he’s doing.

“Where Mama?”, Noah asks.

“She’s still sleeping”, Jack says, reaching for the counter side toddler steps and putting them into place next to him; “Today’s a very special day for her. Clay thought we should make her pancakes…wanna help?”

Noah’s eyes light up; “Pancakes??”

Jack nods; “Mhm.”

“I help?”

Jack pats the wooden stairs next to him; “Cmon up, bud.”

Noah’s quickly standing next to Jack, level enough with his height that he can lean against his shoulder; now making faces at Clay.

Slow mornings like these never fail to make Jack’s heart clench.

It was that time of the year again; the first of Jack Abbot’s annual summer parties of the year—Memorial Day to be specific. It was just now hot enough in Pittsburgh that the pool had been opened, cleaned, and fully maintenanced.

The second that pool cover came off, you and Jack spent every free moment you got in it. Mostly just lounging in the slightly shallower end or on the pool steps; lemonade or waters in hand. The garden by the fence was coming up well; speckles of various plants growing up the length of the faded and chipped wood.

The grass had been mowed, grill cleaned off and ready for anything Jack would throw at it. The pool bar was stocked and cleaned. Jack was ready for it. He handled backyard parties the same way he handled the ED; meticulously and efficiently. He wiped down counters like he was cleaning up an OR. Mowed grass like he was threading a suture needle, and tended to the garden with hands so gentle you’d think he was performing an emergency procedure.

With about an hour until guests arrived, Jack opened the back sliding glass door—padding his way inside the air conditioned house. He wiped sweat already building at his brow and tugged off his shirt. He was going in the pool the second guests arrived anyways.

If there was one thing about Jack Abbot, it’s that he’s gonna be shirtless at his own home in the warm weather. He didn’t care who saw or was coming over. He lived in basketball shorts and swim trunks, sometimes just his boxers when it was only the two of you at home.

Jack grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, letting ice cold condensation drip onto his neck and hands before untwisting the cap to take a long and needed sip. He huffed his way up the stairs, shaking his head about how it was too damn hot for stairs.

When he rounded the corner into your shared bedroom, he found it empty. The covers were thrown back on both sides; waiting to be made. The curtains were pushed back to let sunlight in, your vanity mirror light was on, and soft humming came from the cracked bathroom door.

“Sweetheart?”, Jack called out, “You in here?”

You poked your head around the corner; “Mhm, just finishing putting my hair up.”

Jack plopped down on the bed, unhooking his prosthesis and reaching for the waterproof attachment you had already left out on the bed for him. He rubbed at his residual limb for a moment before attaching the new leg. It took him a second longer, hesitation with the weight of what the day actually was.

Memorial Day was never easy for Jack—he hadn’t slept as well as he’d liked the night before. Better than he would’ve if he were still deployed, better than he would’ve if you hadn’t been there. His leg had thankfully decided not to send phantom pain up and down his limb and spine like lightning strikes. Still, you knew he was in his head; you could always tell before it fully even settled in for him where he was drifting.

His shoulders would get slightly stiffer, movements more rigid like he really had to try to stay upright. But the moment you reassured him with hands on his shoulders or around his waist to pull him close—a soothing hand on his back; it all melted away for a moment.

When you finally came out of the bathroom, your hair was pulled up in a yellow claw clip. One of Jack’s favorite colors on you. Your bikini bottoms hugged your hips at the ties on each side; the top matched the same. Also a favorite of his.

You pulled a pair of striped flowy shorts on, and a tube top to match. Jack could only watch you in awe, taking in how you looked so relaxed and at ease. Jack could only describe you as glowing.

It was only when you bent slightly over your vanity to get a pair of earrings and then above your head for your sunglasses that Jack froze. His heartbeat immediately picked up as his eyes wandered over the tiny—but now obvious—bump at the bottom of your belly. A soft curve that was finally showing proof of—what you had both known for a few months—was a little life.

You caught him staring when you looked back, stopping mid sentence when you caught his gaze.

“So Robby said he’ll bring some extra sodas if we need, but i don’t think—Jack?”, You trail off as you try to bend slightly to catch his eye; “What’s wrong?”

Jack shakes his head, swallowing once—his eyes barely flicking up to yours before they find their way back to your exposed skin.

“Baby…”, He breathes, pulling you close by your hips. He hesitates for a moment before carefully letting his palm splay out against the small roundness of your skin; “You’ve popped.”

The touch was so soft, almost hovering like he was afraid he’d break you. His fingers twitched slightly against you as he moved his hand around, like he’s expecting to feel something; even though you both know it’s too early.

“You think so?”, You ask, scrunching your nose up at him in disbelief.

He only nods, rising to his feet and carefully guiding you over to the mirror. Standing sideways with him behind you, staring at your small bump in the reflection—you finally see it.

A small swell that starts at your waist band and ends just above your navel. Not really there unless you’re looking for it, but still there.

“Oh”, You breathe, your eyes going wide as you find Jack’s for a moment in the mirror.

His hand splays over your bump again, covering it entirely as he lets his thumb rub soft circles into your skin. He bites his lower lip, eyes glued to the spot that has both of your attention now.

“I swear it was still flat yesterday”, You say, poking at your skin like it’ll go away, not that you want it too.

Jack shakes his head; “Certainly wasn’t…’would’ve seen it.”

His brows furrow a little, like he’s wrapping his head around it all over again; “There’s actually a baby in there…”

You catch his expression and spin around in his arms, cupping his cheeks carefully in your hands; “Our baby, honey.”

Jack sighs and lets his eyes flutter close, forehead dipping against yours. You bump your noses together.

“Hey…”, You say softly, guiding him gently to look at you; “You’re not there anymore, you’re here, you’re safe, you’re home.”

His breath stuttered a little, a long sigh leaving his lips. His eyes stayed closed a moment longer.

Then, when he thought his knees couldn’t buckle any more at the absolute weakness he had for you, you spoke; “We’ve got you, baby. We’re right here.”

You place a soft hand over his, guiding him to lay it flat against your tiny bump again.

“Thank you…”, He breathes, his spiral coming down before it could even fully start—all the noise in his brain drifting away.

“You sure you’re up to this today?”, You asks softly.

He nods almost immediately; “Yeah…yeah”, you watch the small smirk climb onto his lips; “Can’t leave all the kids hanging, now can we?”

As much as he hid behind the humor of it, Jack wouldn’t know what to do without himself if he cancelled everything. The party was a tradition of his, yes, but he also threw it as a distraction. A distraction to keep his head above water in a place he could actually enjoy himself on days like today that reminded him of way too much; and it worked.

No, Jack wasn’t going to let himself think about all the what-ifs of how things should’ve went in his life or how he never thought he’d get this; not when he had you reminding him he deserved every second of what he had now, right in front of him.

“I love you”, You whisper.

He smiles softly at that; “I love you too.”

He kisses you then, lips soft against yours. He tastes like faint coffee and the watermelon he snuck a few pieces of while cutting it earlier. Sweet and so uniquely Jack.

“Guess we’re telling everyone today then, huh?”, You ask when the kiss breaks; “Can’t really hide it anymore, especially in this suit.”

Jack laughs with a tsk of his tongue; “Afraid not, sweetheart…and you’re not changing that bikini, it’s my favorite.”

You pull at the curls on the back of his neck, just a small tug that you know he loves; “Trust me, I know it is.”

That’s when he lets his hand fall down your back and smacks your ass once, making you gasp into him; “Jack!”

But he’s beaming; bottom lip between his teeth; “What? Gotta get it out before everyone gets here.”

You roll your eyes, but can’t help from leaning forward to kiss him again. You wouldn’t change him, not in a million years. Not when he’s so perfectly Jack. Your Jack.

─ ─── ─── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ─── ─── ─

The guests start to trickle in a little while later; Robby with a few extra cases of different sodas in tow as promised. Jack lead most of them to the backyard, letting you lounge in one of the chairs by the pool. With the way your laying all stretched out, your bump isn’t very visible; easily passable as bloating or having a big breakfast.

You can hear Robby teasing Jack about something having to do with him being shirtless behind you, but you certainly weren’t going to complain about it. Not with the view it gave you.

Guests settled in around you; mingling at the bar, surrounding Robby—who insisted on cooking something—around the grill, some starting to make their way into the pool.

It was mostly night shift staff, a few stragglers from day shift that you and Jack had gotten close with over your time there. Dana appeared next to you shortly after greeting Jack; sitting in the lounge chair next to you.

“You just gonna let him walk around looking like that?”, She smirks, peering over her glasses in Jack’s direction.

Every single freckle he has on his torso, back and arms are on display. His farmers tan that’s slowly morphing into an entire body tan looks ridiculously good, and his biceps and pecs—don’t even get started on those.

“Oh hell yeah”, You say, gaze flickering between her and your husband, who you’re pretty much ogling now; “What a view.”

Dana laughs, shaking her head as she settles into the chair; “Hey if he wasn’t taken, I wasn’t married and about fifteen years younger…”

“Dana!”, You scold, but it’s all in fun.

You catch Jack’s eye then, whose expression immediately softens before he mouths a small; “You ok?”

You nod in return, biting your lip before you relax further back into your chair; taking a sip of your lemonade that Jack had apparently made fresh that morning.

The chatter around you was music to your ears. Drinks clinking, people laughing, the soft humming of a lawn mower a few houses down. Getting in the pool later would be the icing on the cake for you, especially if Jack joined you.

Next thing you know, Jack’s standing over you, holding out a plate of food; “Your burger, m’lady.”

He bows in a dramatic fashion as you take it from him, leaning up to kiss him softly; “Thank you, Jack. You didn’t have to bring it to me.”

His brows furrow for a second before he’s smiling softly again, plopping down next to you and pulling your feet into his lap; “I know. But I want to, gotta take care of my girl.”

“You gonna eat?”, You hum to which Jack nods.

“In a little bit.”

Jack, ever the caring man; always making sure everyone was taken care of before himself.

You don’t notice Dana and Robby’s eyes on you from across the yard as Jack puts his hands to work massaging your legs, or the quiet whispers between them. Sure, Jack had always taken care of you, but ever since you told him you were pregnant? He waited on you hand and foot, didn’t want you to move unless you absolutely had to, wouldn’t let you lift a finger unless you beat him to it. To him, the two lives you carried were the most fragile and precious thing to him.

He made sure you were taken care of; and it was noticeable.

Robby noticed immediately when you were already in a lounge chair upon his arrival, how Jack intercepted the heavy soda he was carrying before you could move; throwing a soft look your way and a quiet; “I got it, you relax, sweetheart.”

Dana noticed the same, and more importantly; how you weren’t in the pool yet. How you laid on the pool lounger, legs bunched up slightly like you were trying to hide something precious.

─ ─── ─── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ─── ─── ─

It wouldn’t be long before your secret was out; just as the sun was starting dip behind the skyline and the deep blue of the warm summer sky starting peeking out—Jack stood with his arm draped across your shoulder, clearing his throat.

At first you don’t hear what he’s saying, despite the silence in the backyard. You bite your bottom lip, having made its way between your teeth as you held onto the last few seconds you’d have before everyone was all over you.

With a warm hand Jack pulled you carefully up from the lounge chair, letting your body fully stretch out. His hand found your waist and pulled you closer; other hand finding the small swell of your belly again.

“I couldn’t imagine a better group of people to share this news with. A found family that’s been there through so much more than I ever imagined”, Jack exhales shakily, eyes flicking to you; “The night shift crew is expanding…we’re having a baby!”

Gasps echoed through the backyard; Dana’s hand flew to her mouth with watery eyes, Robby choked out a wet laugh of disbelief, the med students and residents all exchanged looks of excitement. But Jack was looking at you.

You, who had given him the best gift he ever could’ve dreamt of.

Robby was clapping Jack on the shoulder with a strong hand, shaking him gently as he pulled him into a hug; “Congratulations, brother”, and then softer into his ear; “You deserve every second of this.”

He finds you next, hug softer and gentle as he looks you up and down in a similar protective fashion that Jack would.

“Congratulations, kid”, Robby hums, and then laughs softly; “Guess I can’t call you that anymore though.”

You shove him playfully, startling slightly when Dana steers you towards her.

“I knew it! I knew you were hiding something”, She laughs.

“Mother’s intuition?”, You smirk.

She shakes her head, hugging you close.

“Congratulations, honey. You two are going to be the best parents”, She whispers.

─ ─── ─── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ─── ─── ─

When the party dies down and the sun has finally dipped low, you snuggle into Jack’s side on the couch that sits on the backyard patio. Your swimsuit and hair damp after finally getting in the pool; Jack’s trunks the same. Robby sits across from you, nursing another beer; no doubt planning to spend the night. You wouldn’t have it any other way.

Your hand slips under Jack’s shirt—the first one he’s worn for more than an hour all day—rubbing softly at the firmness of his stomach. He looks down at you with fond eyes, leaning forward to press a kiss to your temple.

“Did you have a good day?”, You ask him, quiet enough so only he can hear you.

He nods, dipping his ear down closer to you; “Best day in a long while, sweetheart”, He says, thumb rubbing circles above your navel; “Except finding out about them.”

“Head ok? Not too loud?”

Jack hums softly; “I’m ok, sweetheart.”

You watch his thumb for a moment, the circles sending goosebumps up your spine in the cool evening air.

Jack notices, because of course he does; “You cold?”

You shake your head; “No, just enjoying you.”

Jack continues rubbing soft circles.

Robby scoffs behind his beer; “Get a room.”

“Already did, how do you think she got pregnant?”

Robby almost chokes on his beer as Jack turns back to you, kissing your lips softly.

You snuggle into him closer, perfectly content to be just where you are; with your little family.

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Jack Abbot wasn’t used to living alone. He went straight from his parents house growing up to the army housing—to sharing a place with Robby during med school—to living with his late wife.

The townhouse he occupied now felt too big, too empty, too full of ghosts haunting him from different stages of his life. Still, it beat wandering around the lonely house he had shared with his wife before she passed. He couldn’t stand sitting there any longer, all the what ifs of what life could’ve been followed him through every room.

So he moved into a townhouse, smaller, still two floors, enough room to occupy but still feel empty. Mostly bare of decorations. A few medical textbooks books, pictures from his younger days, his wedding day. Random shit Robby and Dana had bought him to put out when he’d moved in.

He stuck to himself for a while; go to work, to the gym, come home; and sleep until his next shift to do it all over again.

Robby finally snapped him out of it a few months later. He started talking to old friends again, going out more with coworkers when Robby and Dana asked, even if it wasn’t his scene.

Years went by and he fell back into the swing of things. Moved around the ED with as much ease as he had when he first walked through the ambulance bay doors all that time ago. His humor came back, he joked more with residents and mentored better. Things seemed normal, well as normal as they could be after everything he’d been through.

It all came crashing down around him when a new attending walked into his night shift—when you walked in. You, the cheery and kind new attending Gloria hired to have two on each shift. You with the pep in your step, you who always spoke softly to scared patients and took extra time to explain things to them. You who wiggled your way into a spot under his ribs he didn’t even know existed anymore.

But more than that; you challenged him. You were just as quick and witty as he was—taking him aback the first time your sarcasm and teasing was directed at him.

The way it made the ED fall silent around you, all eyes watching as the staff held their breath.

Lena smirked behind you, Shen and Ellis’ mouths fell open.

You were gonna fit right in, even if it kept Jack on his toes—especially if it kept Jack on his toes.

You were at the hub with Lena when it happened—chatting in between patients when he came up behind you. His uneven gait was recognizable from two hallways down. The soft thump of his sneakered prosthesis hitting the floor.

He stood next to Joy, talking about charting and something else you couldn’t pick up on. His voice hit your ears before hers did.

“That’s how we rolled when I was a resident”, Jack smirked.

“Was that in the 1900s?”, Joy jutted back as she looked up at him.

Jack’s smirk didn’t waver; “Yeah, when charts were written by candlelight.”

Your smile was full of mischief now, words slipping out before you could stop yourself; “Written with ink and a feather pen too, Peepaw?”

The room stilled.

Jack let out a noise that almost sounded like a laugh.

Shen choked on his iced coffee.

Ellis let out a “Daammnnnn!!”

Jack just…stared at you. Lips still pulled at the corners, but his eyes were darker now; something lingering underneath that you couldn’t quite place.

“Only until typewriters became popular.”

He was giving it right back.

It continued that way—you and Jack ribbing each other back and fourth. He didn’t know when he realized how much he relied on that, relied on you. It hit him square in the chest; something new he didn’t quite know what to do with, or where to put it.

─ ─── ─── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ─── ─── ─

To say the past month had been hard on Jack would be an understatement; he was exhausted.

The anniversary of his wife’s death was approaching, Robby had just gotten back from his sabbatical which had thankfully taken some of the work load off of his shoulders—but he was so ingrained in the new routine of constantly being the one on call and working overtime that he didn’t know how to stop.

His leg was bothering him more than usual lately, he could barely sleep at night; his anxiety was through the roof lately and to make matters even worse—there had been an influx of veteran’s coming through the ED like a revolving door.

Jack had lost too many people in his life; patients included.

His wife, his leg, countless numbers of his old army buddies and people he knew in the service. The biological family he had left was scattered. His chest felt tighter than normal, and now when he saw you; instead of immediately succumbing to the excitement in his chest—his blood ran cold.

He felt guilty. Guilty for thinking about anyone other than his wife, guilty for liking you, guilty for you being the best part of his day and looking forward to seeing you; guilty for wanting you.

As soon as he trekked into the ER that night the entire atmosphere shifted. The air around him went tense and cold, settling in the deep crease between his brows. He huffed under the pressure of his prosthesis digging into his skin with each step. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d taken it off for more than an hour.

He barely grunted a greeting back when Robby approached him, listening through handovers with silence and dark, tired eyes that looked way too sharp and miserable to be the same warm hazel ones he always had.

He’d lost his Jack spark.

When you approached him to sign off on an order of meds he barely moved.

“Doctor Abbot, can you sign these off for me?”, You ask.

A deep puff of air leaves his nose as he slides his readers on, taking the tablet from your hands with a grip that was too tight and stiff.

He didn’t say a word; just signed with his pointer finger after reading it over and handed it back to you.

You frowned; “Is uh, everything ok, Doctor Abbot? You seem upset.”

He inhales sharply; “Fine. Get those meds to your patient.”

No banter. No ribbing or poking fun with you. Just a flat voice empty of any of its usual emotions.

“Are you sure? Is there someth—“

“I said i’m fine”, He cuts you off, squeezing past you; “Get back to work.”

You watch him go with wide eyes and stunned silence.

“Brrr”, Lena says next to you; “Who pissed in his cheerios?”

“I don’t know…”, You trail off, watching him round the corner and disappear; staring at the spot he’d been seconds earlier.

You didn’t have much time to reflect on it or ask him anything further as the noise of the ED picked up. The ambulance bay door kept opening and closing like it was on a timed loop. Your hands were busy.

So were his.

You saw him across the floor a few times, looking down at his feet or off into space while Robby or another doctor talked to him. He still took care of his patients with efficiency; but he didn’t hover anymore.

He stood with his arms crossed, back tight and jaw the same. Lack of emotion. Normally, where he’d make sure he was on the same level as a patient to make them feel comfortable; he now stood towering over them. He didn’t let his hand brush their back or knee to offer comfort, didn’t smile; at least not real ones.

His visit times were quick; barely letting out a few words as he read a patients chart, asked a few questions and got a briefing before he was passing the case off to a med student or intern unless it was an emergency.

He was stiff as he assessed a younger man who had come in from a car accident. Dislocated shoulder, multiple fractures of the leg and arm. He grunted as he helped lift him off the stretcher and onto a hospital bed. A twinge of pain flickering across his face for the briefest second.

His jaw stayed tight as he called out directions and sent the man up to the OR.

He went completely rigid when a veteran a few years older than him came in with a multi-car pile-up. The man was mostly stable until he wasn’t; stats tanking suddenly and alarms blaring. Jack coded him for an hour to no avail. The time of death left his mouth between gritted teeth as he tore his gown off.

Nobody went after him. Nobody dared. Nobody wanted to set him off first.

─ ─── ─── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ─── ─── ─

Jack found a quiet hallway in one of the empty wings of the hospital, back pressed against the cool wall as he slid to the floor. His elbows dug into his knees, heels of his palms rubbing against his damp eyes. His leg burned and sent a jolt of lightning up his spine at the movement. A shuddered and shaky breath left his lips as he tried to regain his composure.

But he couldn’t, not with everything weighing down on him all at once. So he let himself cry softly, quietly in the way he trained himself to; cursed himself under his breath for doing so.

When his breathing lost its shakiness he finally pushed himself up off the floor, one hand pressed against the cool wall as he looked down at his feet—a hand on his hip.

He shook his head with a long exhale; “Come on, Jack…snap out of it already.”

He wiped his face once, forced himself to stand straight despite the still worsening pain in his leg; and walked back into the ED like a man on a mission. Though he wasn’t completely sure what that mission was.

Survive this shift, sounded like a good one.

You caught his gaze by accident as he walked back in. Standing at the hub going through patient lists to update the board, when the familiar sound of his footsteps filled your ears.

You looked up like you always did. His eyes found yours for a second before he looked away. He didn’t stop, didn’t speak; just kept going.

You frowned at the sight of him; cheeks pink and tear-stained. Eyes exhausted and devoid of their usual light. His jaw was ticked and clenched tight. The shift dragging on around him. He puffed his chest out as he walked by in an attempt to seem like everything was normal. But you’d seen him enough, learned things and taken in his very being to know that wasn’t true.

You didn’t know him that well personally, but you knew enough about him inside the hospital to know when things were off. Knew him enough to know there was something charged between you. To pick up on his usual mannerisms or when things were wrong.

Things were definitely wrong right now; but you couldn’t figure out what. Just that Jack Abbot clearly needed help.

You cornered Dana at the hub later; “Do you know what’s up with Jack?”

She took off her glasses, didn’t linger on the fact that you were on first name basis—and got straight to work.

She sighed; “No, but…whatever it is, it’s not good.”

You wanted to laugh at the obviousness of it.

“Have you ever seen him like this?”, You ask.

Her expression goes soft, a little sad; “He usually gets in his head around this time every year…his wife’s anniversary is in a few weeks”, Her brows furrow; “But I’ve never seen him this bad. Not like this.”

Guilt climbs up your spine; his wife. Of course that’s why he’s upset. But Dana’s words linger in the back of your mind; “I’ve never seen him this bad.”

You wanted to help him. Needed to help him. Whatever was going on between the two of you; flirting or not—could wait. You decided right then and there, standing next to Dana; that you were going to do whatever you could to help—to save him before he spiraled too far.

─ ─── ─── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ─── ─── ─

Jack Abbot fully cracked with two hours left in his shift.

Another trauma had come in, bystander in a bank robbery gone wrong. Clinging to life as the alarms split through the room around him.

You were gowned up next to him, following nurses and residents around as they prepped the trauma room. Robby and Jack were standing over the patient, calling out directions as they always did.

Another alarm started going off, Jack’s head whipping up.

“Oxygen is tanking! We need to intubate, get me a tube—now!”

You moved quickly, grabbing all the supplies you needed and getting them to Jack. He took them immediately. The scalpel in your hands slipped before he could get in fully in his grasp; the sound of it clanging against the floor echoed through the trauma room.

The room fell silent except for the sound of metal against linoleum.

Jack stilled, everyone’s eyes on you.

“Doctor Abbot—I’m so sorry! Let me get-“

“No”, He blurted out.

“What?—“

“Clearly you can’t be trusted in this room, and we need people who aren’t going to fuck up saving someone’s life”, He says through his teeth, face almost red.

You’d never seen Jack like this before. He never raised his voice at anyone. Not unless you were a patient threatening his staff or causing problems. Never over something simple like this; never over mistakes.

He’d usually talk lowly to you, reassure you it’s ok and encourage you. Tell you that you’ll do better next time as he guides you through the procedure. But that Jack was not in this room, you weren’t even sure he was in this hospital.

“Doctor Abbot, I-“

“Henderson, get me a new scalpel”, He orders, barely looking at you; “You step back, we don’t need anymore screw ups.”

Screw-up. That’s what you were to Jack in this moment? Just another thing that wasn’t going his way.

Your eyes and face burned. He saw it, but didn’t say anything else. Ignored the twinge of pain in his chest as soon as the words left his mouth; at the look on your face. More guilt hitting him.

“Jack”, Robby warned, making him look up.

“What?”, Jack snapped.

Robby raised his brows, sending Jack a look that didn’t need words. Jack silently got back to work with the intubation as soon as Henderson handed him the scalpel.

Robby’s eyes found yours as you hovered next to him, not sure what to do.

“Go take ten, kid. Get some water and some air”, Robby tells you quietly.

You don’t argue, just nod once in response before pushing the trauma doors open and leaving behind the humiliation of Jack’s words.

Jack watches you go, the pain in his chest doubling. Fuck, he messed up.

“What the hell was that, brother?”, Robby asks.

Jack doesn’t answer, only a sigh leaving his nose as he finishes the intubation.

You don’t know when you ended up in the bathroom splashing water on your face, but here you were.

A few tears lingered in your eyes; but they weren’t from Jack’s words. Sure they hurt, but the only thing on your mind was how worried you were for him.

Never in a million years did you think you’d see the day Jack Abbot snapped at someone during a trauma—let alone at you.

You dabbed at your face with a cold paper towel, taking a deep breath before you walked back out to find your water bottle.

“You ok?”, Dana asked softly.

“M’Fine. But he’s not.”

Both of your eyes found Jack’s figure across the room. Still working in the trauma, still rigid and still making your chest ache.

Jack Abbot hadn’t cracked yet, but he was seconds away from doing so.

The moment it finally happened the ED was filled to the brim, staff were running in every direction. Another vet had come in with chest pains, everything else seemed normal; until he tanked.

Jack moved like he was back in the field; nothing else around him existed except for the man on the table. He coded within a half an hour. Jack immediately started compressions, ignoring the ache in his leg that had turned to jolting pain in the last few hours.

He ignored Parker’s voice at hour one. Just kept doing compressions.

1…2…3…shock.

He ignored Shen’s a half an hour later.

1…2…3…shock.

He ignored Robby’s voice at the two hour mark. The first time, at least.

When Robby stood behind him, so close Jack could feel the heat of his words crawling up his spine; he couldn’t ignore him anymore.

“Jack…there’s nothing we can do, he’s gone”, Robby said softly.

Jack’s eyes stung as he finally, finally removed his hands from the patient’s chest—handprints almost visible in their wake. He took a step back, feet faltering and making him sway for a second. Robby reached out to steady him; but the touch burned him. He pulled away, looking around the trauma room at all the eyes on him.

His gaze landed on you; watching him with wide and concern filled eyes. Almost teary with his own. That stung like a punch; because if you were watching him, so was everyone else—which meant it was bad. Whatever he’d spiraled into, whatever he had tried so desperately to hide; he couldn’t anymore.

He left the trauma room in two wide strides, TOD leaving his lips in a brief huff; the door swinging shut with a loud gust behind him. He didn’t take off his gown or his glasses or the gloves that were sticky against his hands. He just moved to wherever his feet were taking him; wherever they knew best.

The ED paused around him.

Dana watched him rush by with horror and dread donning her face—in all the years she’d worked with him, she’d only seen him like this once. A few weeks after his wife had passed.

She watched him disappear into the stairwell, knowing better than to go after him. The silence following was deafening. She swallowed hard, looking around once before speaking.

“Alright, everyone back to work.”

The ED resumed like the pause had never happened.

But the whispers and concerned gazes remained; because Jack Abbot was a steady beacon in a place that became reckless.

What happens when the beacon itself becomes unsteady?

─ ─── ─── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ─── ─── ─

“Where’s Abbot?”, You asked Dana, breathless and cheeks hot.

She sighed hard; “…Getting some air.”

You didn’t wait for her to say anything else before you were moving; climbing the same stairwell Jack had only a few minutes before.

Your footsteps were lighter, still just as hurried and charged—but they didn’t carry the same weight that his had.

You swung open the heavy door to the roof with a small grunt; the cool early-morning air smacked you in the face—making your already pink cheeks redder.

Your eyes landed on him immediately. Wrong side of the railing. Stethoscope hanging from the metal behind him. Like he’d already made a decision. You swallowed thick.

“Jack”, You spoke.

No movement except the faintest shake of his head. He didn’t answer, didn’t look at you, didn’t look away from the city below him. He was stuck there like a magnet; like something else was holding him down. Mental weight pushing down on his shoulders harder than it ever had before.

“Jack”, You try again, stepping up behind him but still leaving some distance; “Jack, go home”, You say.

“What home?”, He spits, eyes rimmed red; “I have no home.”

You see his face only for a second; but it’s enough to send your heart down to your stomach and a sudden spike of urgency down your spine.

His hands dig deeper into his pockets, heels of his shoes going with them against the rooftop.

“It’s just an empty fucking box. Too dark. Ghosts of everyone I’ve ever failed to treat that haunt me and keep me awake at night. Makes my head spin and digs me deeper into this fucking…hole that I can’t get out of.”

His chin wobbles now, a scoff escaping his lips despite himself. He turns further away, eyes flicking back across the city line—blurry and glowing behind unshed tears. Face red as he puffs out his cheeks with a breath, shaking his head like it’ll make all this disappear. The thoughts, the memories, the darkness; that fact that you’re seeing him like this. At his lowest. When he’s supposed to be the one there for you.

“I lost two vets today”, He grunts; “Two.”

“That’s not your fault, Jack. You did everything you could”, You say.

He scoffs again, tears still burning as he looks at his feet; his bad leg that echoes like a taunt.

“Are you still seeing your therapist?”

It’s an innocent question, but it hits Jack wrong.

Another scoff; “Yeah, fuck lot of good that’s doing.”

He runs a hand desperately through his hair; “I go in there, every week. It’s the same questions. Same schpiel, same routine….I spit some bullshit back that isn’t true just to get out of there.”

“Jack, you can’t do that…”

“Why not?”, He almost yells, almost, but not quite; “It doesn’t work anyways.”

You hesitate, wracking your brain before you take one small step forward. Just one, enough to test the boundaries. Jack doesn’t step away.

“I’ve seen too much. I’ve seen…so much”, His voice cracks, wavering and wet; “I’ve seen way more than any person should ever have to see. ‘Seen so many people die, slip right through my fingers like nothing I did mattered…”

He’s quiet, then a whisper; “…Maybe it doesn’t.”

You step closer at that, hand resting lightly on his shoulder; “That’s not true.”

He doesn’t look at you; “How do you know?”

“I know because i’ve seen you, Jack.”

He doesn’t say anything back, shuffling his hands back into his pockets, keys jingling quietly between his fingers.

“What you do, matters so much Jack”, You whisper; “You matter, so much.”

He finally looks up now, tear lines streaking his red cheeks—the whites of his eyes just as red. His face heavy and tired and holding the weight of the world in them.

“You’re the safety net, you’re the hope of so many patients. You’re the steadiness and the knowledge and what people need when they’re drowning. You’re kind, and competent and compassionate and caring. So many people see that; including me.”

He takes a deep breath; “Everything I care about, everything I fight so hard for. Fight so hard to protect, goes away. Gets taken away from me…like I was never meant to have it in the first place.”

His shoulders sage under your hands.

“My deployment, my leg…my wife”, He breathes, voice shaking; “It’s all gone…like some big joke.”

You hesitate before you speak; “You still have them Jack. Maybe not physically, but they’re with you all the same. In your heart, in your life story, your experience.”

He shifts his weight a little.

“A wise man once told me that just because you loose something doesn’t mean it’s truly gone. You get to choose how much it stays around.”

The corner of Jack’s mouth turns up the tiniest fraction; “Sounds like a pretty smart guy.”

You smile now; “The smartest guy I know…don’t tell Robby.”

Jack takes a deep breath, still a little shaky as he fully turns to look at you; “I don’t know how to do this without her…to allow myself to live without it feeling like I’m replacing her.”

“What do you mean?”, You ask.

“To allow myself you”, He exhales once, eyes dipping back down to the ground.

His words hit you in the chest hard. You scramble for words, somehow still managing to find the right ones.

“I’m not trying to replace her, Jack. I know I never could, and I’d never want to”, You reassure him; “…But maybe I want to find a different spot to fill.”

Jack softens at that, you see it in his eyes, in his entire face.

“You already have, kid.”

His hand finds your arm, finger twitching softly against your skin.

“Now please, for the love of god; come back on the other side of that railing before I have a stroke”, You say.

That earns a small laugh from him, before he pulls back and ducks under the cool metal—straightening his back when he’s on the other side.

“C’mere”, He breathes, pulling you against his chest without another word.

It knocks the air out of you. Being this close to him, you can smell every layer of his cologne. The sweat that’s lingering on his skin, the sadness. The warmth.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you”, He whispers; “I didn’t mean any of it. I know it was an accident and anyone could’ve done it and I wasn’t in the right space. I know that doesn’t excuse it. I was an asshole and i’m sor-“

“Jack”, You stop him with a hand at his cheek; “It’s ok. I’m not mad at you.”

“You’re not?”, He asks it like his ears are lying to him.

You shake your head; “No”, You tell him; “I’m worried about you.”

He lets his forehead fall against yours for a brief second before pulling away.

“Thank you”, He breathes; “For coming after me.”

You pull back just enough the look at him; “Hey, wasn’t gonna let my best attending think himself off the roof. We need him too much.”

His chest rumbles a little at that. You find his hand with yours, interlacing your fingers to hold him closer, still scared he might change his mind and jump over the railing.

“M’not going anywhere, sweetheart”, He says, voice gruff and low.

You realize then he still has tears on his cheeks, brushing your thumb softly against his skin to wipe it away.

“You know…maybe you don’t have to do it alone”, You start; “Maybe we could go visit your wife together…if you want to.”

You offer it quietly, regret pulling at you when you feel him tense up.

“Unless that’s overstepping it, i’m sor-“

“I’d like that a lot”, Jack says, cutting you off and quieting all your worries with one breath.

He lets his hand find the back of your head, pulling you closer to press his lips to your temple. He lingers there for a moment; letting it ground him and bring him back to the place he matters most.

“I guess we should get back down there”, He finally says, grabbing his stethoscope off the railing and swinging it back around his neck.

You step in front of him; “No”, you say.

His eyes widen and he cocks his head with a disbelieving laugh; “No?”

“You”, You say, “Are going home. Dana’s orders.”

“She’s bossy”, Jack says.

“You’re tired”, You offer; “and in pain.”

His shoulders drop at that, finally letting the full force of his exhaustion show.

“Yeah”, He says; “I am.”

But then he moves closer to you, and you suddenly realize; he doesn’t want to be alone.

“Want to go get breakfast first? My treat”, You offer.

“I’d like that, too”, He says with a small nod and a quirk of his lips to match.

He follows you to the roof door, hand hovering at your elbow; holding the door open for you to step back inside the chaos of the hospital.

“But if you think i’m letting you pay, you’re wrong”, He says, stepping in after you.

The door shuts behind you both, his front pressed up against your back as he steadies you at the waist; big warm hands grounding you.

“Must you argue?”, You tsk.

“Makes things more interesting”, He says, shrugging once before moving you both forward; “Cmon kid, bed’s calling my name.”

You watch him go for a second, how he turns with a brow quirked as if to ask “you coming?” How his face is still slightly puffy from crying, the way he carries himself differently now, more vulnerable. More open.

You realize then that things will be different between you two. Different in the way he lets himself hover near you; touching now instead of holding himself back.

Different in how you end up in his bed that morning after breakfast, holding him close as he drifts off; silent cries and shaking shoulders finally relaxing.

The way he’d eventually kiss you for real, soft and surprising outside the ambulance bay after another stressful night like this one. How he’d start reaching for you when things got hard. How you ground him the way no one else can even get close to.

The remnants of outside air floated around you and Jack in the stairwell, your eyes sweeping over him one last time to make sure he was okay; that he wasn’t going to crumble right then and there.

“I’m ok”, He says softly when you step up next to him; “I’ve got you.”

Your heart clenches once, pushing sweaty curls out of his face with a small smile; because Jack Abbot is safe with you.

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The sound of sizzling bacon and a knife hitting the cutting board surrounded Jack in the kitchen, where he stood in front of the stove—chopping away at strawberries and grapes.

Your second and youngest son, Clay, strapped to his chest in a baby carrier he was quickly outgrowing. Too quickly for his poor old Dad’s liking. Still, Jack would put him in there until that day came.

He found himself humming softly, his nose nudging at Clay’s soft hair.

“What’dya think, Clay boy? Would Mama want bananas too?”, Jack asks aloud.

Clay looks at him with fierce determination. At almost one—the words are almost there—but not quite making their way out yet. Instead, Clay huffs a gurggly noise that sounds close enough to an answer for Jack.

He nods once; “Yeah, I thought so too.”

So Jack starts peeling a banana, cutting it up into bite size pieces and holding a piece of it out to his small son, who happily takes it with drool covered hands and gums at it with the few teeth he has. A happy shrill fills the kitchen.

Jack laughs, eyes wide; “Shh buddy, you’re gonna wake your Ma.”

Clay pays him no mind, going back to smacking on the now mushed banana that’s half against Jack’s shirt.

He moves through the kitchen like it’s second nature—mindlessly talking to Clay like he’s half expecting an answer back as he reaches for the pancake mix on-top of the fridge; when the sound of small bare feet padding down the hallway get his attention.

Your oldest son, Noah—who’s just barely two, comes padding out into the kitchen rubbing his eyes sleepily. The blanket he’s had since he was a newborn half trails on the floor behind him; fist gripped tightly around it. The tot finds Jack quickly, wrapping both arms around his lower leg and pressing his face into it.

“Morning, sweetie”, Jack says softly, ruffling the toddler’s deep auburn curls; “Did you sleep good?”

Noah lets out a soft and muffled “mhmph”, against Jack’s shorts, making him laugh.

Jack reaches for a spatula, making the toddler stand on his tippy-toes to see what he’s doing.

“Where, Mama?”, Noah asks.

“She’s still sleeping”, Jack says, reaching for the counter side toddler steps and putting them into place next to him; “Today’s a very special day for her. Clay thought we should make her pancakes…wanna help?”

Noah’s eyes light up; “Pancakes??”

Jack nods; “Mhm.”

“I help?”

Jack pats the wooden stairs next to him; “Cmon up, bud.”

Noah’s quickly standing next to Jack, level enough with his height that he can lean against his shoulder; now making faces at Clay.

Slow mornings like these never fail to make Jack’s heart clench.

“Goo’mornin’ brover”, Noah coos, leaning in to press a sloppy kiss against Clay’s nose.

Clay—minding his own business and not expecting the invasion—wipes the kiss off with slobbery fists and a scrunched nose.

“He no want kisses today”, Noah, slightly offended, announces to his Dad.

Jack laughs next to him; “I think he’s just getting hungry.”

Noah pats his belly, looking at his jammy top like it owes him money; “Me too!”

“Yeah?”, Jack says, arching a brow; “I can hear it growling from here…Daddy’s is too.”

That seems to make Noah content enough with questions for the morning, his attention following Jack’s hands as he flips another pancake onto a plate; the stack growing higher each time.

Jack turns to him with a question; “What do you think Mama would want in hers? Blueberries or bananas?”

Noah thinks for a long moment, and Jack finds himself thinking; ‘damn, that really is my face’—before giving his full attention back to his son.

“Mmm…chocate chips!”

Jack clicks his tongue; “Wasn’t an option, but ya know what? Yeah, we can do that.”

─ ─── ─── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ─── ─── ─

Twenty minutes later and Noah’s standing next to Jack, listening intently as he instructs him how to very carefully carry the very full breakfast tray back to your shared room. Jack was just going to make two trips, but Noah had insisted he was big and strong enough to carry it himself—and who was Jack to argue with a tiny version of his own stubbornness?

So instead he unclipped Clay from his chest, and adjusted him on his hip as he carried a cup of coffee in his other hand.

Inside the bedroom Jack reminded Noah to stay quiet with a raise of his brows—relieved to see you were still asleep.

The sunlight streamed in through the windows, casting gold rays over you and the bed. Jack set the coffee down on the night stand and opened one of the curtains; letting sun in to light up the room. You only stirred a little bit.

He helped Noah set the tray down at the end of the bed, before giving him a boost to his bum to help him climb up onto the bed next to you.

Noah looked at Jack with wide eyes, as if asking ‘Can I?’

Jack nodded once; “Go ahead…nicely.”

Noah patted your sleeping face carefully, poking at your nose as you stirred; “Mama! Wake up!”

Your eyes fluttered open, blinking for a few seconds as you adjusted to the light.

“Good morning, love bug”, You cooed, pulling Noah down into you to ruffle his hair the same way Jack had in the kitchen; “What’re you up to so early?”

“Helpin’ Dada!”

Your eyes flicked to Jack—Clay still on his hip and playing with his dog tags—smiling back at you with the face of a man who was dead tired and wouldn’t have it any other way. Not if it meant he got the three of you.

You sat up slowly—Noah immediately settling in beside you—as you took in the scene in front of you.

A full tray of pancakes, bacon, fruit and a mug of coffee prepared just how you liked it. Jack beaming behind it with a wiggly baby and a purple bag that wasn’t there two minutes ago. Neither was the bouquet of flowers he pulled seemingly out of nowhere when he set Clay down on the mattress.

“What’s all this?”, You ask, heart fond and clenching.

“For our favorite Mama”, Jack says it like it’s nothing, settling the tray over your legs; “The boys and I thought we’d surprise you.”

“I’m very surprised”, You say, gazing softly at them.

After all the years you’d been together, Jack still managed to surprise you every single day. Even in the most mundane things; like grocery trips or walks to the park. He’d pretend to forget something and return with the flowers you’d been eying in the store or a coffee from that new vendor along the sidewalk.

He texted you updates from work on the rare occasion you didn’t share a shift. He’d pick you up breakfast or make it as soon as you got home. He’d take the boys to daycare or your Mom’s house every morning so you could relax, even though you knew he was just as dead on his feet as you were. He never did anything halfway when it came to you. Or your little family.

Jack sat down on the edge of the bed, placing the small purple bag beside you and grabbing Clay carefully by the hips as he tried to crawl close enough to the tray of food he could tip it over. He grunted with all the protest a tiny gremlin can have as Jack lifted him into his lap; a squeal filling the room as he clapped his hands together and used them as a teether.

“Ah ah, Mama gets some first”, Jack tuts, giving his tiniest son a fake glare and raised eyebrows and a tilt of his head.

Clay grunted again in response—a loud smacking noise coming from his hand connecting with Jack’s chest—making the man try and fail to suppress a fake grunt and a laugh.

Still, you cut a small piece of pancake off of the stack and hold it out to Clay, who happily takes it and shoves it in his mouth.

“He’s spoiled”, Jack says, shaking his head; but his smile is nothing but fond.

“He was making grabby hands, I can’t tell him no!”, You protest.

“He knows you’ll give in.”

“Good.”

Noah, still sitting next to you, hums softly to himself and steals a piece of bacon off of your plate.

After you’ve finished breakfast, Jack nudges the purple bag towards you again; “Open your present, Mama.”

You pull the tissue paper out of the top, carefully unwrapping the rectangular object in your hands; body going still when you see what’s inside.

It’s a picture frame; Noah and Clay snuggled up with big smiles, sitting in your favorite flower field just outside the city. The same place Jack had taken you for your first date; and picked flowers from every anniversary since.

“Oh, Jack”, You breathe.

“Do you like it?”, He asks, bottom lip between his teeth.

You beam; “I love it!”

You lean forward—fingers carding through the curls at Jack’s nape—bringing him in for a kiss. You let it linger a little longer than you normally would, wanting to show Jack how much his thoughtful gift means to you.

When you pull back, he’s smiling wide at you, searching your eyes with his own before resting his forehead against yours; “Happy you day, Mama.”

“Thank you, baby”, You say softly, kissing him again.

Only this time, a loud squeal of “Ew!” from Noah echoes between you, breaking the kiss.

“I’ll remind you of that when you’re a teenager, kid”, Jack smirks.

“Mama picture?”, Noah asks, peeking over your lap to get a look.

You happily show him, pulling him into your side; “See, baby? My beautiful boys.”

You ruffle his hair once, kissing his head. Clay squeals in Jack’s lap.

“Clay’s one of my boys too”, You coo, ruffling his hair next.

Jack clears his throat, eyebrows raised comically.

You laugh; “My first boy.”

You kiss him again quickly, a small huddle of all three of your boys surrounding you.

─ ─── ─── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ─── ─── ─

Later, after breakfast and lounging in bed cuddling, Jack loads the boys up in the car and drives you to your favorite corner cafe.

Clay sits on your lap, Noah on the other side of the table—making a mess of an ice cream cone—where Jack slides in next to him, passing you a cup of your favorite coffee.

“Bub, you’re making a mess”, You laugh, making Noah look up at you as you reach over with a napkin.

He dodges you with a squeal; “No, Mama!”

Jack just shakes his head, though his smile gives him away; “Might as well wait until he’s done.”

You sigh—defeated by a two year old—and hold your own cone out for Clay to lick off of. The tot on your lap’s face is way messier than his brothers; vanilla ice cream smeared on both cheeks, his nose, and somehow his hair. Both hands are sticky with the cold treat.

“I’m thinking it’s gonna be a bath night”, Jack laughs, making wide eyes and a face at Clay; “Huh, messy boy?”

Clay shrieks, and claps his hands together.

“I’m deaf, now”, You blink dramatically.

“Hey, he’s making sure his opinion is included”, Jack deadpans.

“The entirety of Pittsburgh knows his opinions.”

Noah plops his head against Jack’s shoulder, watching people go by as he scoops another bit of ice cream into his mouth.

“How’s yours bud?”, Jack asks, taking a mouthful off his own cone.

“So nummy!”, He says dramatically.

The minute you and Jack make eye contact, it’s over. You’re both breaking out into laughter before looking back at your oldest.

“So nummy?”, Jack asks, because he can.

Noah nods, dramatically rubbing his stomach; “SO nummy!”

You’re both done. That’s it, your son’s a comedian.

When the laughter dies down and the ice cream is gone, you’re headed back to Jack’s truck; where he scoops your bag out of your hands.

“Hey-“

“Ladies don’t carry their own bags”, He quips; “Especially on Mother’s Day.”

Yeah, your heart is a puddle on the floor now. You’d give that man the moon and as many babies as he asked—especially watching him load your own two boys into the truck with such ease and practice it makes your knees weak.

─ ─── ─── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ─── ─── ─

That evening, your standing in the backyard—watching Noah run around his toddler playset—with Clay crawling furiously through the grass behind him. Yanking it up in fistfuls as he goes.

Jack appears at your side, pulling you in close to him with an arm around your waist and a kiss to your temple. He hands you a cup of tea like it’s nothing. You didn’t even have to ask for it.

“Did you have a good day, Mama?”, He asks, softly, brushing his scruff against your cheek.

“Mhm”, You hum; “The best day ever. Thank you, baby.”

You move your head to kiss him, lips meeting the way they do when you’ve memorized the way someone moves.

“You don’t have to say thank you, you deserve it”, Jack says, with a nose to your hair.

The backyard is quiet; just the two of you watching your boys play together. The occasional bird chirping or the sound of a car driving by playing like a broken record. Jack’s warm, his signature black tee that you swear is two sizes too small is soft. He shifts on his feet once, but you notice.

“Wanna sit down?”, You ask.

He knows what you mean without you having to say it. But still, he shakes his head.

“I’m ok.”

“Jack”, You say seriously; “You’ve been chasing the boys around all day, I know you’re sore.”

He sighs—nodding as he leads you over to the outdoor sofa—letting you curl into him as he unhooks his prosthesis. He groans in relief, settling back next to you.

“Ya know”, He says, his tone letting you know he’s testing the waters; “I’m gonna be way more stubborn if we have more.”

You laugh out loud at his honesty, it almost sounds like a scoff; “Is that so?”

He kisses your head again; “Just letting you know, babe.”

You laugh again, chewing on your bottom lip nervously as you watch the boys playing. Jack notices, because of course he does.

He angles his body more towards you; “What?”

You sit up; “How would you feel…about three under three?”

Your bottom lip is between your teeth again, trying and failing to bit back a smile.

You watch Jack’s face; the confusion as he thinks, and you see the second realization donnes on him.

“Are you serious?”, He asks low and soft, holding your hand in his like you might disappear. A look so innocent on his face.

“Maybe…”, You hum, still ducking your head in shyness.

Jack’s hand cupping your cheek changes that.

“We’re gonna have another baby?”, He asks, voice still soft and eyes so wide they might pop out.

“Yeah, Jack”, You say, before adding; “Surprise.”

“Oh my god-“, He laughs out, voice shaky as he pulls you close and kissing you with such love and intent it makes your skin tingle.

When he pulls back his eyes search your face, hands cupping your cheeks.

“W-When did you?…”, He trails off, brain still processing at a hundred miles a minute.

“Two weeks ago”, You say with a smile; “Remember that morning you dropped the boys at my parents and I asked for that sandwich from the corner deli? Was trying to figure out how to tell you. I’m about eight weeks.”

Realization hits Jack square in the face. He groans dramatically; “Oh my god, how did I not realize?”

You laugh, teasing; “Don’t know, Doctor Abbot.”

His laugh vibrates up through his chest, arm still around your shoulders as his hand drifts up under your shirt, splaying wide against the warm skin there. His thumb rubs circles absentmindedly.

“Three kids…”, He whispers, eyes still not leaving you.

“Technically we always agreed on four…”, You nuzzle under his chin; “We must be crazy.”

“Only about you”, His answer comes quick.

You smack his chest once, cheeks heating up; “Everyone at work is gonna lose their minds.”

“Or tell me to get off of you”, Jack quips.

“That’s true, too.”

“Which is never gonna happen, by the way…100 kids or not.”

“Jack!”

“What? Can’t blame a man for loving his hot wife.”

You kiss him, hard. Pulling a muffled sound of surprise from his lips that quickly turns into something vibrating lower. His hands grip your hips, pulling you into his lap.

“I love you, so much”, He breathes, eyes still closed—forehead pressing back against yours—thumb still rubbing at your belly that’ll soon start to grow again.

“I love you too, Jack.”

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