#walsh x reader

You began the night early at 5:57pm, as you got dressed in your dark purple scrubs before Dr. Walsh came in looking eerily calm. “Well.. you’re early, that’s too bad. Early bird does not get the worm this time. Time to face the music, Little Red.” Walsh referred to the nickname the other surgeons had given you for the worn red hoodie you often took on your consults, stating you naturally ran cold.

You turned your head raising an eyebrow. “I know we love our fairytales up here but no riddles in the locker room please..” You begged, it was too early for cryptic language and three guesses after you aided in a LVAD placement up until 10am, yesterday.

“Mass casualty, active shooter at PittFest, 5 minutes out.” The taller woman said placing her hands on her hips. “Looks like Little Red’s going down to Wonderland where everyone’s mad, finally.” Walsh let the “finally” hit. After so many years of you dodging “The Pitt,” you were about to be down there… for the rest of the night… for a mass casualty… that wasn’t the greatest news.

You furrowed your brows. “I haven’t done emergency medicine since med student rotations. I’d be more useful in the OR.” You reasoned trying to squirm out of going down there.

Dr. Walsh scoffed. “As much as I don’t want you down there either. You won’t break a sweat. You’re one of our best, and you don’t play nice. Apparently neither does anyone down there, according to our huntsman.” Her lip curled, making for wolfish grin, joking as she slipped out into the hall.

“Just us two?” You asked putting on your red hoodie and badge as you began following her to the elevator.

Walsh shrugged clicking the button once they reached the elevator, Floor A. “I think the huntsman is already down there from her dayshift.” She said as the doors opened, as if on cue Garcia walked up to the elevator doors, freezing when she saw the two of you.

“I was about to go hunting for you two.” She smirked at the mini-reunion. “Red.” She acknowledged you, it had been quite some time since you’d taken a day shift with her and you smiled at the sight of your fellow surgeon. You’d be just fine with Yolonda here. You three began walking the halls of the PTMC discussing open ORs and any anesthesiologist who were on their way down.

A tall brown haired man with salt and pepper dusting his beard emerged from a trauma room with a red clipboard. Must be chief attending…. Uh ‘Dr. Robby’. You made out, finally putting a name to the face Garcia constantly cursed out.

“How’s it looking upstairs?” He pointed to Walsh with his clipboard.

“Should have all twenty-five running within the hour.” Walsh put her hands on her waist as she relaxed as you arrived at the center of “The Pitt.”

“We could be buried by then.” Robby muttered.

“Surgery’s ready.” Garcia confirmed. “We’re here, we’re ready.” Nodding to you and Walsh.

You scanned the entire area, taking note of the South, and North halls as well as the Trauma rooms, probably where you’d spend most your time, watching as they cleared the rooms of x-ray machines and other non-essentials.

Your eyes landed an handsome older man in black scrubs, fiddling with his tactical backpack, a frown as he pouted tugging at his bag. You instantly recognized him from the stories Walsh had told you, known for his army medicine and tendency to fly off the books, no doubt, this was Dr. Abbot. Fuck. Oh fuck. Walsh didn’t tell me The Abbot was GI Joe hot. I thought he was a Forest Gump.

With gray curls and cute stubble to match, his felt your stare and looked up to scan the area. His grey eyes meeting yours, his cute grey brows furrowed in unable to recognize who you were.

“I am taking primary ER, who’s taking primary surgery?” He called out at your trio, raising a red binder, one for himself and for you guys. Walsh definitely didn’t complain about that rasp in his voice.. does that come with age or did he sound like that at my age?

He looked at you, raising an eyebrow, staring for an answer almost urging you to do it. You broke the intense stare to go look at your attending. In terms of staring, you’d lost the round.

No way in hell could you be the primary. You thought. Apparently Garcia had the same idea and both of you looked at Walsh, the votes were silently cast. She chuckled, her mole resembling a battle scar unnaturally, “Heavy is the head that wears the crown.” Both you and Garcia feigned relief but you guys never really had a horse in the running as a residents.

“Dr. Walsh.” The older man’s voice cut through the surgical banter. “Anesthesiology?” He asked.

“Gladden will be down. He’s got four in place more on the way.” Garcia replied. Abbot nodded but curiously looked past her at you who had remained silent. Nonetheless, clearly surgery had their shit together.

“These are for you,” Abbot handed Robby slap bands while digging through his military go-bag.

“What’s in there?” Robby wondered curiously.

“A couple CAT tourniquets, hemostatic dressings, LMAs,” The shorter man began listing off, you glanced at Walsh. Wow you weren’t kidding. You said with your eyes. Walsh shook her head rolling her eyes at his “Butterfly Ultrasound.” No I really wasn’t. She seemed to say.

“Okay everyone listen up!” Robby clapped his hands together to gather attention. “This is how it’s going to work!”

You listened to instructions from the two older men as you and your surgeons helped one another into gowns. Walsh opened up the red binder, putting on the bright orange vest as the primary. As the two attendings of the ED listed meanings of the slap bracelets and the locations of patients.

“Trauma surgery and Neurosurgery will decide who goes to the OR immediately and who goes the ICU.” Robby clarifies pointing to your group which slowly grew in numbers slowly.

As Robby clapped, finalizing assignments, the large group dispersed. Walsh ordered you to Trauma Two and she’d take Trauma One and Garcia would be in the hall dealing with the mass since she had more experience down here.

You nodded splitting into your respective areas, you watched as Trauma One filled up, fast, with patients. A resident, you think bagged a kid, while Walsh guided her through getting him into the OR or ICU. It was only time before your room would mirror her’s.

When you turned around you were met by a flash of an orange vest, for an old man he was quick on his feet. “You. Stabilize for the flip.” He called out to you and you nodded silently, helping him, you noticed the wound on the both sides.

“He needs two chest tubes.” You called out, the older man nodded in agreement. “Need a hand?” You offered.

“Don’t worry, kid. I got two hands.” He shook his head shooting you a wink. You raised an eyebrow at his cockiness and rolled your eyes. Garcia was right about the inflated egos down here, you thought moving on to the next patient who was being brought in.

“Roll.” You called out for the nurse who brought in another patient on a gurney. As you checked the patients underside, you assessed, “an IO. Etomidate and sux, prep for intubation.” After a quick intubation, you glanced up through the glass, letting out a small sigh at the sight of Dr. Shamsi, some more hands thank goodness, before you could celebrate however…

“Looks like this one’s renal!” You heard behind you, Abbot exclaimed lifting the tube, filled with blood, out from a patients’ penis. You rolled your eyes at his immaturity for his age.

“That’s one way to get a golden ticket directly to surgery,” You stated, turning around with a sharpie to sign his wrist card. You called out to Walsh in the adjacent room to tell her you were sending one up to the OR.

“Three out of four ORs down.” You heard Robby urge your attending in trauma one, you frowned at his worrisome demeanor.

“Another four about to open and all twenty five will be ready by the time we need ‘em.” She struck back.

“We could be buried by then!!” Robby pointed out, you rolled your eyes to yourself. This man was worrying for nothing. Walsh had this under control. She always did.

“No you won’t. We’ll blast through these; tying off bleeders and slapping on vacuum dressings.” Walsh called out.

“And we’ll finish the job in a day or two when the dust settles.” You shot out, looking up to meet your attending’s confident gaze only to make eye contact with a different one, Dr. Abbot. He stood on the other side of the bed, he chuckled at your cocky statement, no doubt something you picked up alongside Walsh. You huffed in annoyance as he blocked your view onto the fight in Trauma One. You shot him a glare. “You make a better ER attending than window.”

He feigned a wounded expression not expecting to be the next one in your sights in but began nodding along. “How about an engine?” He asked as he pushed the gurney out of the trauma room to the elevator with the nurses, as you finished signing off on the man’s ticket to the OR.

You’d roll your eyes but the doors behind you to the pushed open. A male nurse came into Trauma Two atop a gurney giving compressions, “Unresponsive, had a weak femoral but lost it.” He stated.

“Two units.” You said, but you heard double, an older raspier deeper double. Your head swung making eye contact for what felt like the 50th time in 20 minutes with this man, as he reentered Trauma Two.

“No response call it.” You informed to the nurse, still holding a look with his grey orbs. “No pulse, no OR.” You said and he nodded along like it was his idea. Prick.

“Gunshot to the head, through and through,” Robby called out and you two were snapped out of your shared trance. If anyone noticed, no one said so.

Abbot rushed to his side, feeling for a carotid. “He’s still got a strong pulse. This one can make it cause the intracranial can decompress through the bullet holes.” Abbot looked back at you with those grey eyes. “Neurosurgery in house?”

You opened your mouth to respond, automatically, but froze. You actually didn’t know the answer to that, you weren’t exactly the primary. Abbot tilted his head forward staring you down for an answer. You froze. If it was up to you, you’d get a head CT and a neurology consult when you had unlimited time and resources in the OR. But this wasn’t the OR and it had been ages since you were in emergency medicine and you never had been in it during a mass casualty.

Walsh rolled her eyes at his focus on you, waving her hand sarcastically to grab his attention, disrupting the moment “Yeah. Hey. Primary of Surgery here. Remember me? Send him to the neuro-crit ICU, they’ll triage from there.” Robby nodded getting ready to leave as you shuffled away embarrassed, returning to the patients rolling into Trauma Two. You heard someone follow you into the other Trauma room helping the inflow of patients. You already knew who and refused to look up at him in his bright orange vest as you tried to bring patients back from the brink of death. You didn’t want his help. You didn’t need it. When was the last time you felt like this? This challenged? You felt his eyes bore into your form from across the trauma room. Creepy old man. Another round of staring, point Abbot. Again.

With the help of three attendings, the two trauma rooms began to slow down enough for Robby to slip out and his fellow attending took over bouncing between the two. “Bring me and Little Red here, a few more before we get bored.” Walsh called to Robby as he pushed out the door while you and Dr. Abbot rolled out another GSW to the elevator. You looked up as the movement of his head caught your eye, he gazed at Walsh.

The confusion was evident on the old man’s face, his wrinkles creased deeper, more pronounced and he furrowed his eyebrow, puzzled at Walsh’s choice of nickname. Why would Walsh call him that? Was she calling him a little girl?

He looks like my grandpa trying to figure out facetime, you thought to yourself as he squinted in confusion. Then dots connected when he saw the red hoodie over your plum scrubs under your gown.

Oh. You were Little Red. Cute.

“Just sent another to the OR, bring me another red.” You heard Walsh call out from Trauma One to an older blonde woman in a orange vest in the nurses station.

You looked up at the older man and you shook your head, he frowned. His eyes almost pleaded with yours as the nurses pulled up the cloth over the patient’s face and you called it. “Time of Death: 18:37”

He began helping with rolling him out, calling out to the nurse. “Didn’t make it, going to pedes. Another red to Trauma Two.”

“Copy that.” The primary of nursing said.

You saw a blonde with glasses resident almost slip on blood and you winced before she caught herself gripping the counter “I need Raney Clips and a unit of O-neg.” She struggled out.

“Raneys will have to come down from the OR.” The platinum blonde nurse reasoned, your head shot up at the mention of the OR. Abbot noticed you perk up, as he turned back to the Trauma room that was beginning to fill again.

“I need them now.” You heard the resident desperately plead.

You stood up to jog to the hub but before you could, he grabbed your wrist, whispering in your ear. “Where do you think you’re going?” His warm breath hitting your ear.

“Raneys.” You muttered furrowing your brows, citing the nervous resident as the nurse tried to find a solution.

His chest rumbled with a laugh like you told a joke. “We need you here.” He gripped your wrist a little tighter, causing your heart to skip.

“I’m not skipping town, I’m taking a detour.” You furrowed your brows together. You tugged your wrist away, giving him a playful wink, “You’ll survive for 5 minutes, don’t miss me too much.” You moved, jogging out into the center. You could feel his stare burning into your back as you called out to the primary nurse. “I got you.” You spoke raising your hand, nodding at the resident and nurse.

“Good. Go.” The blonde nurse sighed in relief and ordered you away with her accent and you nodded dashing off into the stairway, patients needed the elevator not you.

But even as you passed the glass trauma rooms you saw Abbot's gaze follow you even as he worked on a patient. Walsh wasn’t oblivious to his staring as she worked on her own patient calling out, “Don’t worry. Even if Little Red Riding Hood stops for flowers, she’ll still make it to grandma’s house.” She teased as she began rolling a patient out.

“Before or after the wolf devours her grandmother.” He mutters under his breath, as he begins with a unit of O-neg blood.

You dashed up the stairs finally reaching the surgery floor which was eerily quiet, everyone must be scrubbed in or prepping an OR. You sped-walked for the supply closet. You opened the door grabbing a handful of Raney clips and other OR specialized equipment that could be useful down in that chaos.

Your feet ached but you pushed on, you left the supply closet and you read the list on patients in the OR board. Oh god, GSW that just missed the aorta. How you would’ve died to scrub in on that. You read the rest of the rest of the list, nodding along.

But right as you turned to leave, Dr. Shamsi came out the elevator pushing a gurney with a frown on her face. “Red, I need you to scrub in.” She ordered, relieved to see Walsh’s protege. You froze.

This was your chance. You didn’t have to go down to that hellhole. You could be in the OR for a few hours, your feet would stop aching and you could think in the quiet of an operating room.

But then you saw his face. His mouth down turned, basically begging you to stay with those pleading grey eyes through the protective spectacles. We need you.

God. Your coworkers were right. You should’ve stayed far, far away from “The Pitt.”

“Who needed Raneys?” You called out to the mass of beds in the hallway.

The blonde girl perked her head up, raising her hand. “Oh me! Thank you.” You handed them to her but before you could leave, she spoke up. “Is there any word on Omar? He’s this woman’s deaf son. Teenage boy shot in the chest.”

You blinked thinking, you had scanned the OR list and you remembered him being in one of the first ORs prepped. “He should make it. Missed the aorta. Lucky.”

“That’s amazing! Well her name is Sylvia…” The resident replied finishing squeezing the O-neg bag pointing to the unconscious woman only in her bra. “Would you please tell her about her son when she wakes up?” Before you could ask about why she was in the pink area, the doctor was already leaving with the Raneys. You cursed under your breath, you needed to get back to the Trauma rooms.

Did I? Why did I need to get back to that old man who basically burned holes into my head with his staring. He and Walsh were in there. Two primaries in there.. and it wasn’t terrible if I was gone saving lives out here.

You brushed that aside and began focusing on the woman in front of you. You did your primary assignment with a light before leaving her with the O-neg bag, she seemed fine.

You turned around to another case being pushed on you with what appeared to be a middle aged man in desperate need of a chest tube. You moved next to the young girl gently. Guess, I’m staying out here. “Med student?” You asked politely as you took the scalpel from her shaking hands.

She nodded overwhelmed. “Victoria Javadi…” She mumbled her name.

“Oh… you’re Dr. Shamsi’s prodigal of a daughter…” You reminisced, remembering being invited to one of her 10th or 11th birthdays when you were a med student. She tensed at that. Guess she’s not a fan of her mother. “Sorry.” You winced at your comment, introducing yourself, as you cut an incision.

“Chest tube.” You called out to the male nurse with long curly hair tied into a bun.

“We’re out of chest tubes.” He sighed shaking his head as he returned from the cart.

You froze before shooting him a glare. “What? Why didn’t you say so? I already made the incision.”

“Well, I didn’t know..” he argued back.

Javadi offered you an ET tube. “What about this?” Shit. Well it’s a tube… and you were bound to run out of supplies. You thought. “If you inflate the balloon. It won’t pull out, right Matteo?” She offered a nervous smile and the male nurse, Matteo, offered her one back but you didn’t share their sentiment.

You huffed taking the ET tube. “Thoraseal.”

“Out of those too.” He shrugged.

You looked up angrily. “Oh you have got to be-“

“Urine bag?” The girl offered.

You huffed thinking about it, while running the procedure through your head, a major flaw become prevalent “How am I supposed to connect that?” You asked raising a eyebrow.

“Christmas tree adapter? It’ll work.” Matteo confirmed. You ran it through your head again, sighing when you realized it’d work.

“This is all very unconventional.” You cursed complaining. “Circus of monkeys…” your coworkers described them perfectly.

“Sounds genius to me.” You heard a raspy voice behind you. Shit. You turned around meeting Dr. Abbot with crossed arms watching with a raised eyebrow. “Five minutes, huh?” He provoked you.

“What are you my mother?” You sarcastically asked putting in the makeshift chest tube with almost practiced ease, ridiculous you thought to yourself about how it worked.

Matteo and Javadi looked at one another sharing a look, are they…? Before you two could continue your argument a loud female voice cut through the air.

“Listen up! Central seven, eight, nine is now the blood donor center. Anyone who’s O-neg or O-pos, we need you to donate now. Hands where I can see ‘em.” You heard a rustle of fabric behind you, and you willed yourself to look over your shoulder. Sure enough. Dr. Abbot had raised his hand.

“O neg? Really?” You asked, as you finished up with your patient.

“Yeah. What about you, Red?” He asked as he took off his gown, getting ready to go to the central rooms.

“AB pos. Sorry.” You smirked as you filled out the patients wrist card.

“Don’t be sorry. Universal donor, universal receipt. Sounds like we make quite a pair.” He shrugged beginning to back up, pointing to himself then at you as he disappeared into the other side of the central square.

“In your dreams, Abbot.” You called out shaking your head turning your head back, only to meet Javadi’s frozen open mouth gaze. You coughed awkwardly. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be! You two must have known each other a while.” She panicked, as you two finished up with the assessment.

You chuckled awkwardly as you led her away shaking your head. “Uh. No. Not exactly. It’s my first day ever down here, normally I’m up the in surgery department.”

“Oh. Well, Dr. Abbot seems to like you. It’s my first day too.” Javadi nervously began rambling and you began to smile at her endearingly, she reminded you of yourself when you were younger. But you winced once you thought on her words. Jeez. Definitely, not your favorite pick for a first shift.

“God. You’re kidding…” You gasped knowing, she wasn’t. You dug a hand under your gown, pulling out a chocolate from your hoodie you normally kept for those shifts. You handed it to her with a smile. “Good luck. But based off your critical thinking back there, you’ll do great.” You encouraged, patting her on the back. She let out a wearily smile at your words but right as she opened her mouth to say something, a female voice rung out.

“Need some help with an airway!!” You rushed over, making eye contact with Robby in a trauma assuring him you could handle this with a nod. You met with a dark haired resident, waiting for her to present as you began a primary assessment. “GSW to the neck with expanding hematoma and distorted anatomy—can’t intubate him. Probably hit the carotid.” She stated, you nodded along.

“6.5 and bougie.” You ordered the nurses. They nodded, grabbing from the cart.

You heard him before you saw him. “I got the bleeder.” The soft rasp in his voice calmed you by just being there as you nodded. “Foley catheter with a 30 cc ballon.” You don’t know how he got out of the central so fast but you weren’t one to question it.

“Are you donating?” You heard the resident ask as you uncovered the 6.5 scalpel.

“O-neg, yeah.” You dared yourself to glance at him and saw a tube full of blood going up from his leg, well that makes sense then.

For umpteenth time, you thought: no boundary these Pitt doctors wouldn’t cross. Even a legally required blood screening.

You’d began to roll your eyes, you’d met these types of doctors before: adrenaline junkies. Got off on saving lives even at the risk of their own. But even you could admit.

Saving lives was the best kind of drug to be addicted to. Especially in somewhere wild like this. As you finished rolling your eyes, you noticed you had been caught as he raised an eyebrow to your expression. You shrugged him off as you wiped away blood from the neck.

“It’s too bloody for a bougie.” The resident protested.

“Not exactly.” You calmly answered, cutting an incision along the neck. Your fingers held the skin, a hairs away from Abbot’s as he blocked the bullethole to the left with his fingers. You stuck the bougie down the incision. You heard the inflating of the balloon next to you, a good sign undoubtedly. “Railroad in the tube.” You ordered as the nurse began shimmying it down. “Okay, bag ‘em.” These words felt foreign on your tongue. I rarely have to “bag” anyone in the OR usually they just came to you like that.

“Dressings off.” You heard the older man’s voice, your blue nitrile gloved fingers brushing against his warm ones, as he inserted the Foley. “Foleys in. Blow up a balloon.”

“30 ccs in.” The resident called out.

“Clamping.” Abbot replied as you heard the balloon blow up under his skin.

“Look at that, dry as a bone.” He smirked at you and you looked up to meet his eyes but you saw a flash of orange out the corner of your eye: Walsh. She wasn’t pleased as she shot you two a look for leaving her alone in two trauma rooms with a in-and-out Robby.

“Head and neck case. MCI-48.” You reported to her.

“16 ORs up and running we got room for one more.” She replied unhappily, she turned about to leave to go find another red.

Before she could, the blonde resident you saw previously called out. “Liver lac came back after second unit needs an ex-lap.” Fuck. Was that what that mother had? Why didn’t that resident tell you about the liver lac, you didn’t exactly have x-ray vision. You would’ve sent her up to the OR immediately.

“Turning over two ORs now. Send them up!” Walsh ordered turning back to the filling up trauma rooms, as she motioned to the upstairs and for you to follow. You followed her into the trauma rooms, but you saw the swivel of gray curls follow your movement as you did.

“I’m sorry-“ you started but she cut you off.

“Don’t be. Seems like you fit great out in Wonderland, maybe we should call you Alice?” You chuckled at her sarcasm, rolling your eyes, as you left for Trauma two.

As you sorted through the patients, one was clearly bleeding out, you looked around at the nurses. “He needs blood, not saline.” You called out.

The nurse shook her head. “We’re out.” Oh. Duh. Why else had we opened up blood donations from unscreened staff. Fuck. Is this a hospital? Because it’s slowly just becoming a room with gurneys instead of medical supplies.

As if God heard you, Javadi came in wheeling a cooler full of blood. “Walsh said four units here?” Okay, so maybe Walsh was your god. Wouldn’t be the first time she’s saved your ass.

You nodded holding your hands out. “Give me one. Leave three.” The dark haired girl nodded and threw you one while leaving three in the hands of the nurses.

You peeked your head out from the trauma for another red, but instead you catch Dr. Robby prepare for a blind intubation with a number of cops watching. Shit if this didn’t go well. The men with guns wouldn’t be happy.

“Doing a crike?” You saw the orange vested man come up with his military bag in hand. “Got a tactical airway in my bag here, I can do these with my eyes closed.” He bragged, earning a laugh from Robby. He looked up at you, noticing your staring. He motions, inviting you closer. You looked around the trauma room other than this patient who was getting started on a unit, most the patients were just waiting for an OR upstairs. You sneak out of the trauma room, just for a bit.

He lines up the yellow piece with the cop’s neck, inserting it. “The knife leaves a trach hook behind.” He explained. “So you can’t miss.” He cuts horizontally and a nurse hands him another piece from the kit. “Slide in the introducer.” He narrates. “Feel the tracheal rings, good.” He says as he looks up at the ceiling to focus on feeling instead of seeing, you drool a little at his exposed neck. “Bob’s your uncle.” He states finalizing the task with a pull out of a yellow piece. Your brows furrowed at the uncommon phrase, old people... you think to yourself.

“That was fast.” You commented crossing your arms, curiously in awe of him. He blushed slightly, shrugging his shoulders trying to be nonchalant, Robby raised a brow at his fellow attending’s reaction. To anyone else, he would’ve looked like combat medic Dr. Abbot doing combat medic things. To Robby, Jack Abbot was flustered by a surgical resident.

After a few pumps of the breathing balloon, the nurse nodding “Yellow on end-tidal.” Abbot and Robby laughed in relief, assuring the police officer’s survival.

“Thank you, Doctor Abbot~” Robby said in a sing-songy voice as the rest of the SWAT and police celebrated the news. With Abbot fist bumping the patient’s partner, you snapped out of your star-stuck trance. That was a point to you, in your little staring game.

“I’ll pack the oral cavity with Kerlix and get him to Head and Neck, see how fast they can take him to up to the OR.” You assured the two men, moving with the gurney into Trauma Two. “What else can you pull out of there, Mary Poppins?” You called out, looking up as you pushed the trauma doors open by backing into them.

“Ohh, just wait and see.” He grunted winking at you, as he left for the hub. Robby’s eyebrows raised at your banter, looking back between you and and the smiling silver fox. You shrugged at the attending’s curious look, as you were handed Kerlix by one of the nurses.

After a gun scare, you and Walsh had made it out of the piling up Trauma rooms to work in the hall. “You guys good out here?” Robby asked as he floated by.

Walsh brushed him off, while you didn’t even look up. “We got this.”

You snickered sarcastically stating, “Take a two hour lunch.”

“I’m gonna go check on triage.” He informed the two primaries, they nodded in response.

“We’ll save a spot for you.” Abbot called out. When he came back in almost two minutes with a crying teen boy along with a girl on a gurney. You three shared a glance all knowning it wasn’t good. While Robby worked you saw the primary nurse swap out with another, as she opted to working on the girl.

Before long, another female doctor came in asking for an attending. Robby was brushed her off and Abbot did too as he and a resident pumped a breathing ballon “Gonna be a minute.” He gruffly cut her off.

“Dr. Walsh!” She called across the hub.

“Taking one up to the OR.” Walsh replied. You perked up, as you finished setting up a unit of O-neg. You checked with the nurses to watch your patient before jogging up to Walsh. “I can take her.” You nodded for her to go and she thanked you silently disappearing with the doctor down the hall.

“Don’t go getting lost again, Red.” Abbot called as you passed him to the elevator.

You rolled your eyes, as if treating patients was getting lost, “Then don’t tempt me, Dr. Abbot.” You called back as you moved with the gurney up towards the elevator. He smiled as he watched you go. He noticed you came more and more out of your shell the further you barreled through this mess.

When you returned Robby was still working on the girl, you came to Abbot’s side with a patient. “Well looks like Dorothy followed the yellow brick road.” He grunted but your focus was still on Robby.

“How many units?” You asked squeezing a breathing balloon as Abbot worked. He frowned when you didn’t give him your attention, he huffed.

“Two plus cell saver.” He gruffly stated. That’s over the instructed two unit limit. You wondered if this girl was that important, as you pumped oxygen.

Robby turned to you abruptly. You tensed thinking you’d said that out loud. “I got a femoral and carotid.” You rushed over leaving Abbot to pump the ballon himself, he frowned slightly with jealousy. You placed two fingers on the young girls inner thigh.

Nothing.

“I’m not feeling it.” You shook your head up at him.

“Check the carotid.” He said frazzled, you humored him and placed a gloved hand on her neck, checking numerous spots.

Nothing.

“Nothing, sorry.” You shook your head. You couldn’t in good conscious send this girl go up to the OR. Not without a pulse. As you turned to leave. Robby desperately chased after you; he ordered for them to resume compressions.

“No, no, we should take her up. She just had a pulse.” He said frantic, Abbot watched you two from across the hub, wary of his friend.

“Well she didn’t just now. Call me if anything changes.” You instructed him. You shook your head and taking on a new patient alongside Javadi, she smiled at you in relief. Before Robby could fight you on this, Dana motioned for Abbot to come help him.

He came and murmured to his friend, walking him through the situation. “Bullet tore through her heart. Anyone else with a wound like this is pronounced dead in the field. You can't keep up with the blood loss. If she was our only patient, we'd do a thoracotomy, maybe ECMO. But even then, I doubt we'd get her back. We're gonna lose ten other patients if you put all your efforts into saving this girl.” He tried, but Robby shook his head, ordering Dana to push a TXA. One final push.

As you finished up with a patient, you began rolling them down the hall with Javadi’s help. “Need your help with a Rumel, Red.” Abbot voiced to you, causing you to pause. Javadi nodded to you assuring you that she’s got this.

You nodded to her as a thanks grabbing the umbilical tape. A male resident stood aside and watched as you cut open and dissected through the neck with practiced ease. You tried to open the umbilical tape but cursed as it got stuck. “I got it. I got it.” Abbot assured you softly in your ear, he leaned in close to you grabbing the umbilical tape from your hands. His gloved fingers brushed against yours, you could’ve sworn you felt his blood flow. You could smell the sweat and musk off him, past the blood and isopropyl.

He wrapped the umbilical tape around the carotid, holding it in place. He began tying the ends together, creating a wrapping around the vessel. He opened his mouth to say something, but you saw the opportunity before he even spoke. You threaded both ends of the tape through the tubing. “Toughest part is getting the umbilical tape through the tubing.” He narrated to the resident. You did it in one go. Finishing by pushing the Red Rubber Robinson through, hearing an impressed whistle from Abbot, you rolled your eyes.

“Clamps.” You called holding out a hand as the resident handed you a clamp and you snared the tourniquet closed.

The resident nodded impressed, "Very cool."

The familiar girl you had sent Walsh with came up, panicked. "Dr. Abbot, I have a retroperitoneal bleed." You two looked up at one another. He couldn't leave this injured carotid artery, yet. If he burst another clot and Abbot wasn’t here it might be over for him.

"I'm busy, Santos. Just push two units until I get there" He ordered, shaking his head as he looked down.

You perked up. "I can go. Send this one to the OR, once he’s stable." You ordered, leaning over pre-signing your name near the OR order, which was technically not allowed but you were sure Abbot had this under control. You let the tale male resident take over as you looked to Abbot. He nodded his approval, thanking you.

The woman, Santos, began leading you to the yellow zone, presenting the case. "Hypotensive pelvic bleed. A huge collection of blood near the bladder I think the bullet tracked north and hit the external iliac. Uncontrollable bleeding."

You nodded, "Prep for a REBOA." You grabbed a REBOA kit, taking off the tourniquet, right as you arrived.

A white male doctor freaked out as the alarms started to blare, unfamiliar with your presence, "What’re you doing!?"

Santos laughed “Huckleberry, chill the fuck out” she said a smug giggle.

You introduced yourself as a senior surgical consult. As you exchanged greeting with the nurse and doctor, you continued placing a blue drape sheet over her thigh. "But won’t this cut off the blood supply to half her body. The doctor who you learned was Whittaker protested.

You shook your head. "Not if I only go in a few inches, zone three, below the kidneys, just until I can get her stable and up to the OR." You said as you inserted a syringe of anesthetic, Santos peeked over your shoulder excitedly.

"Okay, you're gonna need an ultrasound, X-ray." Whittaker accepted your explanation and panicked going over to the reach for a butterfly ultrasound.

You brushed him off, "I'll manage without." You said as you inserted another syringe.

"Have you done this before?" Donnie, the male nurse asked.

"Not without an x-ray..." You winced at how you sounded. The madness down here was getting to you... "It's a central line. I just need to hit the femoral artery…" You explained guiding the syringe through, taking out some blood. "..like that. All right, guidewire, then introducer sheath." You ordered from the residents. You felt like a surfer. After being wiped out once or twice by the fast-crushing waves, you finally found a wave where you could glide.

"I'm at 15 centimeters with 5 cc's of saline so far." You reported as the ballon continued inflating, Santos laughed in awe and Whittaker sighed in relief.

"A REBOA with, no ultrasound or attending? Are you shitting me?" Abbot’s voice carried through the hall as he jogged down it, with a blonde following him.

"It went perfectly. There was uncontrollable bleeding from a pelvic artery. There was no other option." You argued back turning around to him. You were shocked by the look his eyes, his tone was harsh but his eyes were anything but. He looked at you like you hung the moon, and he was in an impressed awe. "Check pulse strength and mentation for BP." He muttered.

"Carotid's weak. Radial's barely there." Whittaker reported her status previously.

"3 cc's in the balloon." You and Abbot said at the same time as you turned back around to begin injecting it. You looked over your shoulder, making eye contact with him. He nodded, approvingly, and you looked back down to the REBOA, pushing in the final cc. You felt his eyes continue to bore into you.

"I'll try for palpable systolic." The blonde resident said as she scooted next to you pumping up the cuff. Abbot nodded putting his hands behind his back as he watched, fullying trusting the capabilities of the residents who filled up the central room.

Whittaker peeked over the side at the BP cuff. "Whoa. Uh.. radial's much stronger now."

"Lock the ballon. Check the wound. Go." Abbot ordered. You did so, locking the ballon in place, pausing the inflation it.

The blonde resident called out as Whittaker lifted the wrapping to the woman's leg wound. "BP's 110."

"Yeah, wound's dry. Barely a trickle." He called out, nodding.

"That's because there's no blood going to her legs." You commentated let out a sigh of relief. "Balloon can only stay up for an hour. I'll bring her straight to IR and Vascular on the case, try to get her to the OR ASAP." You assured the residents, turning around only for your chest to meet his orange vested one, you glanced up at him.

"Good job. That was pretty badass." He gruffly admitted, walking with you as you pulled out the gurney to get her to the elevator. You tried to stay humble and shrugged but your hands shook a little. They never did that, before. His hand shot out to your side of the gurney as the elevator doors opened, he squeezed hands that were tightly wrapped around the railings of the gurney. "You did good, Red." He encouraged you gave him a shaky nod and you heard Abbot's name being called, and he looked back at you, unsure.

"Go." You urged him. This floor needed him more than a senior resident who was going up with a stable patient, the fact that he even paused to think about it made your heart lurch. But you didn't want to think about it. You couldn't.

He helped you push the gurney in the elevator nodding. "See you around, Red." You meekly nodded back as he disappeared to the side as the doors closed.

When you came back down, you were calmer, you had seen all the saves on the OR board and knew you were doing some good. Clearly others didn't feel the same way as you heard Robby's voice boom through the halls. "Jesus, Gloria! The police are still looking. Why don't you go back to your micro-managerial ivory tower and let us get the fuck back to work?"

You came into the hub and saw Abbot run up to the taller man ordering him to go get some air. You came up to him after with raised eyebrows, what was that about?, at the older man who stalked out into the ambulance bay. Abbot shrugged and you sighed. "I got Carmen to the OR, Vascular and IR was happy to take her,” you reported to him and he nodded taking it in.

The male resident who you worked alongside for the Rummel Tourniquet called out to you two, "Dr. Abbot, I got your carotid bypass guy up to the OR too. Vascular surgery says to give you two mad props." Abbot sent him a double thumbs up as you gave the male doctor a nod as a thank you.

You turned around to Abbot but he was gone. "Got any new customers I should take up with me?" You scanned the area, finding the grey curls, you followed him idly.

"Yes." Abbot called out simultaneously with another female doctor. "Yeah. This one looked like chest, but it was intra-abdominal." A woman with dark hair and olive skin raised her hand, you walked overlooking over the tube coming out of the side of the patient's chest.

You winced, "Nipples to navel is no man's land." You said as you leaned over the resident.

"Am I the only one who missed that day in medical school?" The resident asked curiously, looking around at you and Abbot. Your eyes flicked up to meet his and he shot you a smirk. You rolled your eyes, but another doctor came in with a teenager on a gurney who looked cartoonishly blue.

"I need high-flow O2, maybe BiPAP for this guy. Trauma rooms open?" You glanced up as the primary nurse shook her head.

"No, still getting cleaned. South 15 is avail." The nurse pointed to the open room.

"Okay, South 15 it is." Abbot called out left his patient to catch up with the resident. He looked back at you. "Find out if the ICU is ready for her." You nodded, he trusted you to take care of this.

"All right, get me a tech and an RT, and we'll take him up." You said before leaving the one patient to go pick up where Abbot left off with the other patient.

You came back down with Dr. Walsh after dropping off a patient at the ICU and one at the OR. After dropping off a patient to the OR, Dr. Walsh caught you and ordered you back down for a trauma with her. "How's it going upstairs?" Abbot smirked as the two surgeons bursted into the trauma rooms, chatting about patient statuses.

"Regular spa day at the OR. 42 ex-laps and thoracotomies." Walsh said as you two began gowning up and grabbing sterile gloves.

"Impressive." The familar dark-haired resident stated as she looked at the monitor.

"What do you got?" You asked as Abbot took off his stereoscope.

"GSW through and through the thigh, not arterial, now hypotensive and hypoxic." He responded. His brows furrowing in confusion as he side-stepped closer to you two, wanting a surgeon’s opinion.

"Sounds like blood loss-" Walsh said giving her professional opinion, you nodded along in agreement.

"No. Hemoglobin times two is stable. Vena cava is plump… it would be flat with hemorrhage." The resident shook her head and Walsh and you shared a glance, that definitely wasn't normal. You looked closer at the ultrasound, noticing something unusual, definitely not normal from the thousands of hearts you studied over ultrasounds and x-rays from your fellowship.

"It's a little too plump. Don't you think?" You leaned closer trying to get a look at the screen across the bed, glancing at your attending. Abbot took your word and reached over for the phased array probe.

Walsh shrugged as she felt the injury in the leg from the foot of the bed. "Any history of heart disease?"

The resident shook her head. "Not sure, but he's a strong guy. Got shot, strapped a T-shirt and a belt around his thigh and ran around helping people for a few hours."

"Holy shit. Check out the four chamber apical view. Nice catch, Red." Abbot cursed out as he ran the phase array probe over the man's chest, a black bulge coming into view. Walsh squinted and walked over the opposing side of the screen to get a better view.

"Dilated right atrium and right ventricle. Right-sided strain with bowing of the septum." You called out, gaping at it, something was blocking blood flow to the lungs.

"Sounds like a PE. He throw a clot from having the tourniquet on?" The resident asked.

Abbot shook his head, "Way too soon for a DVT. Okay, let's get him in left lateral decubitus. One, two." He counted as he and the resident lifted the man turning him on his side. "Trendelenburg ASAP."

"What for?" The resident wondered.

"Intracardiac air embolism?” You wondered aloud, following his line of thought. He looked at you nodding, impressed by your deduction.

“All that running around introduced air into the femoral vein right up to the heart. Now it's blocking blood flow to the lungs." Abbot explained, sure of himself.

Walsh scoffed at his confidence as she walked to the head of the bed "Need a CT to confirm." She said gruffly. She refused a diagnosis without proper evidence.

"They're still backed up with other patients." You stated the obvious, shaking your head, looking at your attending, that wasn't viable and Walsh knew it.

"Well, maybe the cath lab can take them. They have fluoro." She shot out, sarcastically. "I'll go check!" She shouted aggressively. She muttered under her breath about "flying by the seat of your pants down here" as she begun out the doors.

"Yeah, good luck with that." The ED attending called out as the doors shut, glancing up at the monitor. He waited a moment for the coast to be clear as he looked up mischievously at the two of you. "I need a central line kit and a 5 French pigtail catheter." He ordered the nurse.

"He doesn't have a collapsed lung." You protested.

"Yeah?" He waited for you to continue as he leaned down, eyes running over the area.

You leaned over him. "So... what are you gonna do?" He looked up at you, standing to his full height. His grey eyes bore into yours as he looked at you with a signature puppy pout. How did anyone work around here with a man looking like that?

"I'm not gonna do anything. She is." You turned following his pointing finger to the resident behind you who matched your shocked expression.

The next few minutes were a blur as you tried to interfere once you heard this man wanted to pull air out from the right atrium, without any confirmation of this even being an VAE. You went back and forth with an old man almost double your age for nearly five minutes, while the man on the table was losing oxygenated blood. Fast. Never would Dr. Barrett or any cardiothoracic surgeon ever even dare to think of this.

The older man showed you and the resident some study on his phone from South Korea; which you could only scoff at, not only for its' obscureness but also the size of his phone text which been magnified no doubt for his aging vision. You let up only on the condition that you could supervise.

You leaned over the body as you watched the steady hands of the resident who you learned was Dr. Mohan place in the IJ. "What the hell are you doing?" You heard behind you. Shit. You were never seeing the inside of an OR, again. Not with Walsh, at least. You opened your mouth to answer but the older man beat you to it.

"Dr. Mohan is about to pull air from the right atrium and right ventricle." He narrated as he leaned over your shoulder to also watch as you shut your mouth focusing on the task, trying to not meet your attendings' eyes. You swear you could smell his excitement from behind you.

"With what?" Walsh raised an eyebrow at the idea.

"5 French pigtail catheter." You finished wincing at the idea, again, as you said it out loud.

"Inside his heart?" She protested, looking at you from the foot of the bed with disbelief as you helped put in a central line.

Abbot covered you as he leaned into her field of view, taking her intense gaze off you. "Multiple side-holes gives you a better shot at sucking out all the air." He explained to Walsh like she was a wild animal who needed calming down.

She called out to you regardless, "Red, you let this happen?" She looked at you, betrayed. She should’ve kept you out of the Pitt, they had corrupted you.

"Dr. Abbot showed me a case report from South Korea..." You began but trailed off as you heard youself. Oh my god. You had become one of the circus monkeys, all because of a greying silver fox. You looked up at your attending but was met with Abbot's asymmetrical smirk on his face at your statement. You muttered under your breath about him being a terrible window again which got a deep chuckle out of his chest.

"What the actual fuck?" She cursed in disbelief, pushing past the nurse on the other side to look at the three musketeers of malpractice, head on. "I just talked to cardiology. They want a CT scan. If it's showing air, then you need to dive him in the hyperbaric chamber." You didn't dare to look up, in fear you'd be turn to stone while you and Abbot's fingers worked on the IJ. Dr. Mohan looked up as Walsh filled her ears with the correct procedure. The procedure you had insisted.

"He'll be dead by then." Abbot shot back. You knew that too, you had already ran it through your head with rough estimates on waiting times.

"Not if you kill him first with this banana-pants proce-." Walsh exclaimed, putting her hands on her hips.

"We don't have time to wait for your fancy-pants machine. If we don't get the air out of his heart, he'll die." Abbot sassed back, cutting off your attending. He leaned in closer to you to see Dr. Mohan’s hands, in turn leaning closer to that area where your neck met your shoulder. You weren’t doing the surgery and still held your breath. Walsh’s brows furrowed harder as she looked up, glaring at him.

"This is not the standard of care." She arguing in disbelief, she looked like she was about to leap across the table and kill the old man.

"Oh, fuck standard of care. If we want to save him, we go in now." He cursed finally looking up at the surgical attending. You looked at Mohan, she'd been frozen for the past minute of the two attendings arguing.

"Maybe I should…" She started sweat dripping down, the shake in her hands becoming evident as her breathing became uneven. You panicked grabbing the line, steadying it for her. You gave her an encouraging nod but she had already gotten in her head, you could see it.

"Thread in the pigtail? Excellent idea, Dr. Mohan." Abbot encouraged her holding up the pigtail catheter, before she could take it a voice boomed over the beeping monitor.

"Hold on." Walsh's voice raised over the trauma room. Everyone froze, even Abbot. "If we're doing this stupid procedure. I want Red to do it. She knows the heart better than the back of her own hand." She jutted her chin to you.

"What? Dr. Walsh, I can't-" You froze like a deer in headlights finally looking up at her. She held that intense look in her eyes, believing in you over some “Pittling” as Garcia referred to them.

"The procedure with Dr. Barrett a week ago was five times harder than this. Consider this training for the Cardiothoracic OR." Walsh cut you off, challenging Abbot, as she stood up straight. You looked at him, hoping he’d say no.

“Fine by me, I’m sure all our residents are capable,” He shrugged, holding up his gloved hands, mindlessly waving around the French Pigtail Catheter. This greying old man was truly going to be your end.

"How could you know that? Plus, I studied that procedure a week before. And had an attending instructing." You began sputtering nervously, panicking, how could you do a procedure like this blind? You felt a warm presence to your back, as Abbot attending leaned into you; pushing into you, like a puppy reminding you he was there. His breathing steadied yours silently, you took in a deeper breath. I guess, I'm not going in totally blind with Dr. Abbot's instruction.

"Red." Walsh called out, snapping you out of it. "Thread the damn pigtail." She motioned for Mohan to move. The dark haired resident did with no qualms, removing her shaking hands as she breathed a sigh of relief. You took the pigtail from Dr. Abbot's hands as he nodded to you, full confidence in your skills. You looked at him unsure as you heard the door to the trauma close, wishing desperately it had been you.

“Go down to 24 centimeters," He instructed and you followed. "And then we'll confirm with X-ray." You kept pushing till you felt around 6 centimeters left in the catheter. "Good." He praised you and your normally cold body ran a bit warm for the first time.

"Think I'll stick around in case you need another set of hands to resuscitate your patient when he crashes." Walsh scoffed at the ridiculousness of this entire situation. She was handed a resuscitation kit, she tore it open with no mercy.

Once you got the X-ray back, the two attendings gathered by the machine to see where the position of the catheter. "Pigtail's in the right atrium, good position. Aspirate, see what you get." Abbot confirmed from the end of the bed.

You nodded, "Pulling back blood from the heart…" you confirmed slowly pulling back the plunger from the syringe. Abbot checked the monitor alongside Walsh who looked over his shoulder at the x-ray. "Along with some air." You noted in between some of the blood filling the barrel with some empty space.

"How about that?" Abbot cockily said walking past Walsh and to your side.

Walsh followed behind, "No improvement. " She shot back, noting on the constant 85 systolic BP on the monitor.

"Advance slowly into the right ventricle." Abbot looked at you, he looked like he was practically begging. You couldn't breathe. You used the PVCs to guide yourself into the right ventricle, something you had studied to prepare for your fellowship but never done.

“Nice job, finding your way, Little Red. Aspirate again. Run of three." He rasped more praise in your ear. You think you felt that down there. As you pulled out the plunger, more air and blood filled the barrel. It wasn't before long the alarms of the monitor started blaring.

"Run of five." He instructed. The alarm began filling your ears, you couldn't even hear yourself think over the alarm and your own rushing heart. You just followed the older man's orders he whispered into your ear like a robot. If he told you to push this syringe all the way in and kill the man, you probably would’ve.

You continued pulling back the plunger only getting red into the barrel now. "Mainly blood now." You noted over the loud blaring alarm.

"Charge to 200, he's deteriorating" Walsh ordered to the nurse on the other side who nodded, running across the trauma room, and grabbing the red crash cart.

Fuck. This patient was going to die in your arms; on a table you'd never worked on, in a department you had no business being in. His voice cut through the noise. "Pull the pigtail back to the RA." He spoke calmly.

"Step aside." Your attending ordered, on instinct you almost did, until you remembered this patient's life was in the hands you'd just tried to move away. Your head shot up to look at Walsh, she was surely going to save your ass again.

"Pull the pigtail, Red." He ordered louder, throwing his body in the way of her and the defibrillator pads.

You heard her from behind him. "Step aside!" Walsh tried to push against him but was weak.

He not only pushed against your attending’s way to the chest but also fought her for your line of vision as you glanced between then. He leaned in, "You got this," he encouraged softly. You shakily nodded, gently pulling out the pigtail catheter, as if on cue the alarm ceased.

"Normal sinus rhythm, 92. Pulse ox is improving. BP's 112 over 84." The male nurse confirmed as he read the monitor. Walsh rolled her eyes turning away. You and Abbot looked at each other, a proud smile creeped up on his face as you finally took a real breath. He nodded, smirk permanently etched on his face, turning to your attending.

"Not too shabby, huh, Dr. Walsh? I think we can admit him to General Surgery now." He smirked, raising an eyebrow.

"Hell, no." She brushed him off as she looked down at the patient. Abbot's smirk dropped. You almost snickered at how fast the upper hand had changed as you began to suture the hole closed.

"He's a gunshot victim." He argued.

"Admit him to the cardiac ICU. We'll consult from there." Walsh brushed him off, clearly holding a grudge for ignoring her consult.

"Well, you can admit him yourself, with Cardiology consulting." He offered, looking at Walsh at she double, tripled checked the monitors. "I thought you liked flying the plane." He teased cockily with a hint of condescension.

Walsh's head flicked back, taking a step closer, feigning a smile. "Not when it's gonna crash." She shot him a glare, looking behind him at you. She gave you a nod of approval before she stalked out of the trauma, leaving you to take care of this. You sighed in relief, surviving another day.

"Solid work." He shook his head in disbelief, turning to you with even more praise. You felt like you were drowning from his attention. You moved as you finished up suturing. You motioned for the male nurse to call up Cardiology.

"I couldn’t have done it without you, Dr. Abbot." You assured him, putting down the scissors and thread.

"Take the win, Red." He smiled at you as you bashfully avoided his gaze. You focused on crossing the room to the black phone on the wall, nodding in thanks to the nurse as you picked it up.

"Besides, it was a little too risky for me to do myself."

"What?" You whipped around to him with the receiver to your ear, but he was gone leaving the trauma doors swinging. The nurses only shrugged when you looked around for any trace of those grey curls. For an old man he was quick on his feet. You thought again.

"Hello?" You heard Doctor Barrett on the other side of the phone as you fumbled, jumping to attention on the task at hand after Abbot’s version of a hit and run.

"Uh. Hi, Doctor Barrett, it's me," You clarified over the phone informing him of patient, his history, and the procedure you had just pulled off.

“You did what? With who?” You heard in disbelief from the man you idolized, yelling over the phone.

“A catheter aspiration with Dr. Abbot. From the ED… But patients stable! Can we take him??” You sputtered, like a little child trying to keep a kitten instead of resident trying to admit a medical emergency.

“Fine. Bring him up.” Dr. Barrett gruffly replied. You sighed your 500th sigh of relief as you finally hung up the phone. You begun pushing the gurney towards the elevator with a male nurse, thanking him as the doors closed.

“You’re not needed in the OR?” Abbot asked Walsh with a mask over his face, after she offered stay in the trauma room until the IR was ready for a crushed pelvis with hemorrhagic shock. He looked around for Robby, concerned for his friend who was clearly out of it.

“Nah, it's ortho surgeries all night long now. Hey, is he OK? Walsh asked pointing to the direction Robby left.

“Yeah. He's just tired. I think we all are. That resident of yours, is she also stuck in those ortho surgeries…. Doctor…” He trailed off, realizing he’d never gotten your name. The entire three hours you worked alongside one another. Little Red.. was all he knew, and that you were after a cardiology fellowship. He softly smirked at the realization and mystery behind you.

Walsh looked up raising an eyebrow, Doctor Abbot wasn’t one to go digging for others. “From what I heard she scrubbed in with Dr. Barrett with that cardio case you sent up. Don’t tell me you’re trying to keep her, down here.” She rolled her eyes, seeing through his causal conversation.

The older man shrugged at Walsh’s insinuation, you didn’t make for a terrible ED doctor. “Just trying to get Little Red home.”

Walsh glared at the notion that you would ever come down here again. “That would make you her, grandma. Appearance-wise you fit the part.” She took the shot at the low hanging fruit, and he frowned in response. Walsh took over squeezing the breathing ballon. Nonetheless, she corrected him, “if anything you’re the Big Bad Wolf, trying to tempt her away from where she belongs.”

Abbot chuckled as he took off his mask and bloodied gown. “Careful, I kinda like the sound of that.” Rubbing at the stubble on his face, he thought about the idea of him preying on innocent little you. He began backing up towards the exit doors to the trauma room to go find Robby, slightly turned on by the thought.

“In that case, I’ll tell our huntsman you butcher your stomach wide open and fill you with rocks while you sleep!” Walsh shouted out as she sent a glare to the retreating man. Abbot flashed her a smile and as he and the rest of the confused ED staff filed out, leaving Walsh alone.

You had spent 2 hours with Dr. Barrett patching up Brian Thomas’ heart for clots and left no evidence of a pigtail catheter ever being shoved up there, other than a small stitching in his right side.

After Dr. Barrett finally clocked out from his day shift, Park the Shark came in, pulling a double. Despite his no-nonsense demeanor, he guided you through the orthopedic surgery that was closing the bullet wound in Brian Thomas’ thigh. For another 5 hours, you two reattached the nerves and reconstruct the muscle in Brian’s thigh.

It was four in the morning during your first “break” from an OR. You hadn’t wanted to touch another scalpel ever again, as you collapsed in the chairs of one of the break rooms. Walsh came in chuckling at the light no longer in your eyes. “Don’t give out on us yet. Red.” She chuckled pouring you a cup of coffee alongside her own, before she had dragged you into an ex-lap surgery of her own for 3 hours.

By the time you finished your surgery with Walsh, your shift had essentially ended. You sighed tearing off your blue surgical gown, mask and hair net as you left the OR. You closed your eyes, flashes of the 10 hours of surgery you had just undergone, after a mass casualty. Before you could get far however, you tripped on something on the floor— something metal. You cursed loudly, landing on the linoleum floor with a splat.

“Shit, my bad, kid.” You heard that familiar voice, a voice that definitely didn’t belong on this floor. But have it be your luck: the absolutely hot attending you’d thought you’d never see again, watches you eat shit.

Abbot’s warm hands rested on your back as you sat upright on the ground. You groaned as he shone a penlight in your eyes. You blinked once or twice before swatting it away and he clicked his tongue in annoyance. “Follow my finger. How’s the head?” He ordered you, as he slid his finger across your vision.

You rolled your eyes but did as he asked. His greyish eyes bore into yours, worried with a frown, and checking your pupils. “Fine. Head’s little sore, but that was before the tumble.” You informed him.

“Well, you don’t seem concussed, but I want to get you a head CT.” He softly murmured, grabbing your head and tilting it down to look at your forehead. You could smell a scent of sugar and eggs on him as he brought you closer to his chest. That’s odd, you curiously furrowed your brows together.

You brushed him off, gently swatting his hands away. You groaned in both embarrassment and pain pushing his chest back, feeling his muscles under his scrubs, you tried to ignore them. “I do not need a head CT. Next time move your…” You trailed off looking behind you, curiously on what you had tripped on. It was a black metal prosthetic leg with a shoe on it.

Well fuck. Now you look like an asshole. “…leg.” You muttered looking back at a smug Abbot, who was waiting for your realization. “Sorry...” you murmured at your crudeness.

“Don’t be. It’s my fault for setting up camp outside an OR.” He shrugged as you leaned back grabbing his leg and handing it to him. He snapped it on with a resounding click, and stood to his feet, holding out a hand for you.

You sighed upon taking it, feeling his warm callous hands; you felt the blood return to your face. “What’s with the lost shoe, Cinderella? It’s way past midnight, and I heard from Walsh it’s your night off.” You asked, huffing in embarrassment as you crossed your arms.

He shrugged as he walked around you, grabbing a bag off the floor that was by the OR door. “Brought you breakfast, thought you might be up to your little red hood in surgeries.” He teased softly tilting his head down shooting you a flirtatious look, as he offered you the big bag. Your eyes softened— noticing his tired ones, you put the dots together along with his leg he had taken off for comfort.

“Please don’t tell me, you’ve been waiting for me to finish surgery.” You gaped at him softly. You took the bag and opening it, noticing an assortment of breakfast foods. Much too many for just you.

Abbot shrugged off your worries playfully, burying his hands in his scrub pockets that he hadn’t bothered to change out of. “Can I lie? I’m not exactly Pinocchio…” He jokingly asked smiling as he saw your shock. His lips pursed proudly admiring your expression. He could get used to that expression. “I didn’t know what you liked so, I got them all.” He explained, you gave him a smile. One he could’ve melted at. You thanked him quietly as you walked with to the locker room with him.

It was awkward at first, what could you say to a person you’d spent hours saving lives with. But when Abbot asked you how Brian’s surgery went and you’d begun talking about the past nine hours of the OR you’d seen, the awkward air cleared. He took the bag of breakfast foods off your hands as you talked, you barely noticed as you told him about how you had to place these metal rods in Brian’s leg to stabilize the fragments of bone. He gave you a small endearing smile with his grey scruff as he listened to you speak. You paused realizing you were rambling, before meekly asking him to wait here as you arrived at the women’s locker room.

As you turned however, you felt a resistance on your chest preventing you from fully turning. You instinctively looked down where his sun spotted hand was holding your badge, there was a smiling photo of a younger you with your name and position under it. He read your full name aloud, committing it to his memory, with his raspy deep voice with a hint of smugness. Holy shit. You’d give a week’s paycheck just for Dr. Abbot to say your name over and over. You nodded bashfully in response, before ducking into the locker room to hide your face that was heating up.

When you reemerged, you had your red hoodie wrapped up in your arms as you came out in casual clothes, rushing out. You scrambled, trying to get your purse on your shoulder; not wanting to keep him waiting again. He held a hand out for you and you tilted your head curiously. He gave you one of his chuckles, wordlessly, swiping two fingers under where your purse hung from your shoulder. He readjusted your purse onto his own broad shoulder and turned for the elevator. You were left speechless at the action and beyond flustered, as you jogged after him to the elevator. He waited for you with your bag around his shoulder as the double doors opened, and he clicked the button to the parking lot.

As the doors began to close, you saw out of the corner of your eye Abbot turn his head to look at you. "Hold the door!" You heard someone call down the elevator. You snapped out of your exhaustion and reached for the button, but at the same time Abbot reached out using his hand to stop the door. For a moment, you could've sworn the flexing was an attempt by his freckled bicep to break out of his constraining black scrubs. Fuck you almost choked on your spit.

You looked as the person revealed themselves. Your eyes widened as your attending entered the elevator with her normally tied up hair, let down. She looked up through her curly hair, in a heather grey 'UPENN' sweatshirt with her dead eyes looking more exhausted than normal, raising an eyebrow in recognition. "Well... well... well if it isn't Little Red and the Big Bad Wolf." She joked crossing her arms as she came in standing next to you.

Abbot acknowledged her with a nod, while you tensed up between the two attendings. Walsh rolled her eyes at the silence. "Nice purse, Abbot." She teased to lighten the mood and he chuckled, revealing his straight white teeth, as he flushed at her teasing. "Taking baked goods to grandma?" She wondered to the two of you, motioning to the bag of breakfast that emitted an aroma of sugar and syrup in his hands.

You nervously laughed, "Oh. Dr. Abbot wanted to bring me breakfast... after my shift..." you explained.

Walsh smirked at him looking over your head at Abbot as he watched you, nodding along. "Really? How kind of him." She smiled sarcastically, her mole making her smile look wolfish. "I can't recall a time; he's ever come up here on...." she trailed off thinking a funny thought popping into her mind. "pleasure".

Abbot's smile dropped as he nervously chuckled at her final word. "Well... uh I just wanted to congratulate your resident on how well she handled today." He said embarrassed, shooting Emery a look; her eyes lit up at the opportunity to tease. This was the longest elevator ride of his life. He let out a sigh, you glanced over at him curiously catching his eyes at his sigh. He shook his head, nothing to do with you.

The elevator dinged as you reached the parking lot floor. Walsh ran a hand through her curly hair as she took a step out with her backpack. "See you tomorrow, Red." She said in goodbye as she left for her car, shooting you a wave. "Abbot." She gave Abbot the bird as she disappeared into the night.

You waited for Abbot to leave but he let you go out first. You thanked him as you began to your car under his orders. "You really don't go up to surgery very often?" You asked him curiously, he pursed his lips and shook his head.

"Nah, not my scene. Too quiet and too busy down there." He shrugged, his downturn smile graced his face while your head turned in disbelief.

You snorted softly "I don't know how you can even think, down there, Dr. Abbot" Abbot chuckled at your words, as he escorted you to your car, which chirped open with a click.

“…Jack…” he said softly. He admired you as you kept walking to your car before you noticed a lack of a shadow who was significantly older than you. He held out his hand, holding out your purse to you. The veins on his muscled arms protruded just a little. The sun rose higher, it was later than sunrise but earlier than the morning. It was peaceful, barely any honking cars on the road, and the birds chirped softly.

The rising sun began to highlight his greying features as you glanced over at him. His eyes turned a green contrasting his grey curls and short facial hair, under the warm light; you were awestruck by his appearance. Curse Walsh from hiding this from me.

You murmured softly, reaching out, your fingers brushed against his for the millionth time that night as you nodded. “Thank you, Jack..” He leaned closer and his eyes flickered down at your lips.

You leaned back, your back hitting your car, under his intense gaze. God you’d let this wolf of a man devour you. But you couldn’t. Not right now. He stopped, brows furrowing as looked hurt for only a moment but he didn’t hold it against you. He stepped back awkwardly. You murmured a soft “Sorry.”

Jack shook his head, “Don’t be.” You meekly shook your head at his response, misinterpreting the entire thing, you had a feeling that happened a lot with him. You went on your tip toes kissing him on the corner of his mouth, his grey stubble tickled your lips. He smirked, raising an eyebrow, giving you a smug look as you pulled back after your bold actions. “What was that about?” He grinned down at you.

“Take me to dinner first, Abbot, and don’t kiss me after a traumatic mass casualty.” You smirked up at him, explaining your feelings. The entire idea caused a lightning bulb reaction of realization, his mouth forming an ‘O’ as he nodded taking your advice to heart.

“Too knightly of me?” Jack smirked, putting a hand on the trunk of your car as he leaned over you, looking down at you, this time you didn’t tense up.

You snickered looking up at him, “Just a bit.” You teased shrugging, placing a hand on his shoulder you gently rubbed at his chest.

“Sorry, ‘m a bit rusty.” He grinned. The apples of his cheeks becoming prominent with their fullness under the sun, shining with a number of freckles you looked to kiss. You raised an eyebrow, curious on what he meant and in response he held up his hand, a gold band, prominent on his ring finger.

Your hand froze on his chest, you were about to shove him away. He was married? This entire time? “She passed. 2018.” He explained, you let out a sigh of relief. He raised an eyebrow at your reaction. No. Wait. Not like that. Your eyes widened, Jack laughed a deep throaty laugh; your hand shook along with his chest at your reaction. He placed a hand on your waist tugging you off your car closer to him, placing the breakfast bag on top of the trunk.

You murmured up at him, shaking your head ashamed. “I’m so sorry Jack, I…”

“It’s okay… I’ve been learning how to deal with it.” He admitted, nodding. “Picked up: therapy, a few hobbies here and there.” He shrugged looking down at you. “I think I wanna try again though..”

“Yeah?” You smiled up at the man almost twice your age. He bashfully nodded at his confession, smiling back at you with his cute teeth. “Well… maybe once I’ve gotten that fellowship.” You teased reaching a hand up to his face, feeling the rough hair on his face.

“Come down to the ED.” He looked you in the eyes, pleading you.

You smirked at his begging expression. “Not a chance in hell, Abbot.” You snickered, patting his cheek.

To say you’ve only said bad things about PTMC’s emergency department or “The Pitt” was an understatement. You and Garcia both complained about casual relationships with clingy Pitt doctors, much to Walsh’s dismay.

“I’m just trying to keep things causal, Red.” Garcia began complaining as she saw you waiting to take the patient she brought up, her final one of the night.

“What now?” You ask, taking the gurney, while putting your phone into your pocket. Jack hadn’t been answering your text, weird. He always found at least a minute or two to text you during his SWAT shift.

Garcia cringes, “She asked for me to come over and go see the fireworks…”

“Wow. Sounds like hell.” You sarcastically said. “Just admit you like the girl.” You teased as you helped her wheel the patient to an OR. Garcia scoffed at your statement.

Garcia scoffed you off, “Easy for you to say, you have an attending chasing after you. I have a R2. Oh great, speak of the devil.” She pointed down the hall at Jack jogging to you down the hall. You looked at Garcia. She gave you a dramatic roll of the eyes but the okay as she manned the gurney herself. You left to go meet him halfway.

“What’re you doing up here? I thought you never came up here?” You teased, the older man.

He had infact come up hundreds of times since the day of Pittfest, but usually it was at the end of your shift. Jack often waited outside whatever OR you were often working in for anywhere between 15 minutes or 2 hours, or when he was lucky found you in an empty patient room working on a case study for your fellowship. He always walked you to your car, and always asked when you were going to join The Pitt. To which you just scoffed and planted a kiss on his cheek as you left.

“Well I had an administrative meeting upstairs and came to visit on my way down. Been here since one,” He gruffly frowned, tense.

Your eyebrows lifted, “I thought you were out with the team, today. Are you working a double?” You muttered in surprise, opening your phone to check your text which you could’ve sworn said he’d be out volunteering.

He put a hand on your phone, gently pushing it back down. “Hiro was shot.” He started and you gasped, you had only heard stories of Jack’s volunteer SWAT team hobby. But from what you knew, Hiro was a sweet man with a sweeter wife who had wanted to meet you for a while.

Jack put his hands on your shoulders to calm you down, but it was almost just to feel you after a long shift he hadn’t even clocked in for. “Garcia took him up a while ago, do me a favor and check up on him?” You nodded tabbing it in your chaos of a mind, which was running through a million questions. He read your worried face instantly, “What?” he smiled softly at your panicked face, you were so cute. Curse this man, as that look frazzled you more.

“Are you okay?” You blurted out, worried. He guffawed at your question, offering himself to you; holding out his arms. You rolled your eyes at his dramatics, nonetheless you took it upon yourself to check him for injuries. And use this opportunity to finally feel him up. You circled him, touching his arms.

He sighed, as you left his vision and unable to lie to you. “Bullet grazed my shoulder. But Dr. Mohan patched me up.” He stated staring off into the distance of the surgical department, you sighed in relief at that. You let go of his bicep, which caused Jack to huff in disappointment silently. You trusted Dr. Mohan incredibly, remembering her actions during Pittfest, you did not need to see the wound yourself to know it was taken care of.

You glanced at his posture and took a guess, pressing a thumb into his right shoulder. You felt bandages under his black scrubs as he winced loudly, not expecting it, you snorted down a laugh. “Text me back, next time.” You scolded the stubborn old man.

He raised an eyebrow at you. “Cyber Attack. Right as I got in. I would’ve faxed you.” He rasped out shrugging like he was innocent. He turned around to face you, he put his hands behind his back as he looked down at you shooting you a fake glare of anger at your brattiness. Fuck I think felt I’m wet.

“Wow. Remind you of your resident days?” You teased his age You had heard that systems were off earlier as you clocked on in but didn’t know why, and you didn’t know Jack was even here.

He shook his head. “I wish. Wouldn’t have had to go to that useless meeting.” You snorted a laugh and he chucked admiring you.

You caught him staring with those grey eyes that turned green in your mornings together and raised an eyebrow. “So what? You’ve been running on fumes since one?” You prodded. Usually he took a nap after his SWAT shifts before clocking in.

“Nah. I had a nap, hitched a ride with a patient to Presby.” He shrugged off your concern, his hands wandering to your waist, under your red hoodie. “Can you check on him too? Howard Knox? Went up for an emergency open laparotomy?” He asked you, you could hear the worry he tried to mask in his voice. He cared so deeply for his patients, you loved that about him.

You nodded silently as you wrapped your arms around his neck, careful to avoid his shoulder, you hugged him. He brought you closer with a raised eyebrow, you weren’t one for PDA in the middle of the surgical department floor. “You worry me.” You simply said. You’d expressed your conflicted feelings about his “hobby” and in turn he’d told you ‘he’d think about it.’ He buried his face into the side of your head, sniffing your shampoo, relaxing as he smelt it. God he’d have to ask you what kinda you used.

“Red! You scrubbing in?” You heard Walsh call out as she came out of the elevator from the same administrative meeting as Jack, no doubt. Jack moved out of the way so he didn’t block you, he nodded to Emery as a greeting and she nodded back.

You replied as you let go, returning your heels to the ground, “Yep, Garcia already brought the patient up before clocking out.” Jack took his cue, kissing the top of your head, you hummed happily playfully pushing him off in front of your attending. He let you return to your element as he returned to his. You waved as he left and he waved back as the elevator doors opened.

He watched you until you and Walsh disappeared into an OR— even when the elevator doors closed in his face as he turned back around. He smiled softly to himself, twisting at the golden ring he now wore around his neck with a chain. Jack Abbot didn’t fiddle much. But when it came to you he always found his mind and fingers wandering.

Little Red: hiro and howard are both making a healthy recovery in the icu!! hiro’s in 312 and howards in 367!

Wolfie Wolf: Great. Thanks, I’ll tell the guys so they can visit. Tell Dr. Garcia, I said “Thank you.” next time you see her.

Little Red reacted with a 👍 to your message.

“I can’t believe you two idiots aren’t dating.” Walsh said as you pocketed your phone, getting your surgical gowns and glove packets.

You scoffed softly “Well… I just don’t want the idea that he’s sleeping with a resident.” you explained as you two opened the packets letting them drop onto the sterile field.

“You’re not even in his department.” Walsh rolled her eyes, these all sounded like excuses to her. Her mouth twitched in frustration, putting on her mask, you rolled your eyes as you followed her.

“Doesn’t matter. People will say anything.” You said, shrugging. You’d already explained this to Jack one night on the roof as he finished covering a day shift and you were in early, maybe just to see him. He nodded in understanding telling you he’d wait, kissing your forehead before he left. He came back at 7am to drop off breakfast and walk you to your car.

Match Day. The day which would literally define the rest of your life, and you had accidentally taken a day shift. You loudly complained about your mistake to Jack about it as the date was announced while you were sitting on his couch. He rubbed your back to comfort you.

The good news was that when you told Walsh, she let you sneak out for 15 minutes to go check your results. You worried, refreshing the page repeatedly as you came up to the roof, zipping up your red hoodie. If you didn’t get this cardio fellowship, you really didn’t know what you could possibly do. Maybe jump from this roof.

I guess I could work in the ED, Jack would be happy to take me in. But would everyone think I slept with him to get there? Fuck. I haven’t even kissed him…

You refreshed the page once more, watching with bated breath. The page loaded and you almost dropped your phone off the edge, you panicked scanning over the page.

Congratulations, you have matched! Program Code: 2937310P9 Program Name: Cardiothoracic Surgery Institution Name: Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center

You think you almost went into cardiac arrest at those words. You fumbled with your phone taking a screenshot and posting it in all your family group chats. You rushed to call Jack, he should be in bed after his night shift, but you couldn’t wait to tell him the results.

You waited as it rung, suddenly you heard a muffled phone ringing behind you. You heard cursing as you curiously whipped around. Behind you the rooftop door opened as Jack Abbot came out fumbling with his phone, dressed in a suit with a bouquet in his hands. He looked caught red handed up at you, giving you an unprepared panicked smile; you’d never seen him like this in the past 15 months you’d known him.

“Hey, kid..” he opened his mouth chuckling awkwardly as he tried to hide the bouquet behind him. You smiled softly, tears welling up in your eyes as you ran to him, he opened up his arms as you hugged him. He smiled softly, patting your back and kissing your forehead. “Everything okay?” He wondered softly, unsure about your results.

You nodded, pulling back, crying like a baby as you looked up at him. “I did it, Jack. I got in.” You sobbed happily. He melted, dropping the bouquet and his phone as he gripped your face gently holding you in his hands.

“Great work. I knew you could.” He smirked down at you, showering you in praise as you met his gaze. He looked at you with those puppy eyes that shone green in the daylight.

You went on your tippy toes, wrapping your hands around his neck. “Oh, whatt big eyes you have...” You teased playfully as your voice broke, you both chuckled as your foreheads met, leaning into each other.

“The better to see you with…” he murmured softly admiring you, eyes flicking down to your lips in hunger. His mouth curled into a wolfish grin, his teeth in full display. It’s been months since he wanted to kiss.

You looked up at his grin, shooting that glance at his lips. “What big teeth you have.” You continued.

“The better to eat you with..” he said as he dove down, you met him halfway but he pushed you back. His lips devoured yours, wholeheartedly as he pinned you against the railing.

You pulled back out of breath but began to giggle at his outfit. “Care to explain the suit?” You laughed reaching for his tie pulling him close again.

“Too much?” He joked softly placing his hands on the railing beside you. “Was planning on taking you out after your shift.” He bashfully informed you.

You melted at that, your phone beginning to flood with congratulations and calls from your parents. “No it’s perfect. My very own prince.” You said as you shut off your phone, pulling him by his tie to kiss him again.

“I should go back down…” You told him as you stared out at the afternoon sky and snow, it’d had been nearly 20 minutes of replying to congratulations and kissing Jack. Jack nodded from stubble rubbing against your collarbone, it tickled.

He began showering your neck in kisses. “Jack…” You said warily as he started again and he smiled mischievously. You playfully shoved him back and he went to retrieve the bouquet he dropped of your favorite flowers.

He guided you down the stairs as he told you about recent accidents that happened with the snow. You gasped getting in the elevator as he reenacted what had happened when a sister covered a stone with snow during a snowball fight with her brother.

As you reached the surgical department floor you thanked him for coming all this way. “It was nothing, kid. Proud of you.” He shrugged and kissed your forehead as you stepped out with the bouquet, waving to him as the doors closed.

When you arrived to the break room with flowers, Walsh raised an eyebrow. “How’d it go?” She asked curiously.

You smiled excitedly. “Say hello to your resident with a cardio fellowship.” Walsh’s own rare smile flickered onto her face as she looked at the bouquet.

“Looks like Little Red made it to grandma’s house and got her flowers.” Walsh stated, nodding as she inspected the flowers already suspecting who they were from. “All she had to do was enchant the Big Bad Wolf.” Walsh smirked and put down the bouquet waving to you as she left for a meeting.

“We have Dr. Abbot on the line. Again.” The nurse stated awkwardly, clicking speakerphone.

You groaned as you continued. “Honey, please tell me it’s something important.” You complained, Jack had been calling more and more often. More specifically he’d been calling you. In the middle of surgery.

“I had a question regarding the heart, care to lend your expertise, Red?” You heard the older man’s voice over the phone, no doubt smiling.

“Google’s free.” You sarcastically stated, as you continued with precise hands for your incision. You could hear Ellis chuckle, apparently a slow night down in the ED.

You heard Abbot shrug, “Yeah but I’ve got you on speed dial.” He flirted and you rolled your eyes as the nurses in the room giggled. “Anyways I was calling to ask about dinner, still want to eat the leftovers from the weekend?”

You made a face. “What does this have to do with the heart?” you asked feigning annoyance. Thank god this was a call so Jack couldn’t see your blushing face.

Jack chuckled, “You might break mine, if you say no?” he offered you. You heard Shen give him a high five at that.

You sighed. “Fine. 10 minutes. I’ll be out this surgery in an hour, maybe?” You wondered as you finished up with the left ventricle.

“Sounds good to me. See you in an hour Cardiothoracic Attending, Dr. Abbot.” He teased out your full title before hanging up. You sighed. Ridiculous. Your husband was ridiculous.

ɴꜱꜰᴡ

✱ biggest turn on?

intelligence, hands down. nothing gets walsh going more than a girl that knows her shit. she's heavy on the sapiophillia, and watching you explain something perfectly gets her so wet. even if she's explaining something to you-- if you're understanding and asking relevant questions-- she's just about ready to jump in your skin.

✱ dom or sub? top or bottom?

switch with a dom-top lean. this all depends on how stressed walsh is at work. if she comes home annoyed (which is most days), she'll bend you over the nearest counter and take it out on you. sometimes, though, she just wants to lie back and be taken care of. being a surgeon is hard, y'know?

✱ vocal or silent?

overall, she's moderately silent. that doesn't mean you'll hear nothing from her, though. heavy breathing throughout the whole encounter, a few whispered words in between. you'll know when she's close once you hear groans and maybe even a few bitten-back moans. if you're good enough, that is.

✱ fav position?

when she's using a strap-on, emery loves the lotus position. to her, it's just the right amount of intimacy, and whenever she wants, she can lie on top of you to turn it into a breeding press. when she's getting head, she can't deny herself the worshipper position. one leg up on a chair, with you on your knees pleasing her. it gives you perfect access to her clit, and it just feels so good. when tribbing, she loves reverse cowgirl. like most of these, it's all about how it feels more than the visual for her. having you backing your own clit up onto hers is just mazeful.

✱ biggest kinks?

emery loves a full-time d/s dynamic. of course, there's times where she'd want to switch it up, but overall, it just works for her. not only this, but she's really into medplay. really into it. latex gloves, equipment, and the whole nine. call her dr. walsh and just see what happens.

✱ dirtiest fantasy?

secretly, walsh wants to put you in a collar. maybe even a leash if she ever admitted it and you were down for it. to have that kind of control over you, to have that trust between you two-- it makes her head spin. of course, she'd never tell you she wanted to do something like that. it's freakish and depraved. unless..?

✱ what does their aftercare look like?

emery's aftercare is quick, but thorough. she has a package of wipes in her bedside drawer to clean you up of any leftover lube or cum. a quick, shared shower between you two, and she's ready to bounce back. it won't even be an hour before she's in the kitchen making herself a snack or in her study researching again.

those words knock my brain out of the fog it was in and i straightened up from where i was leaning against the back of the elevator, shifting the papers i had in my arms to a more comfortable position.

was it any of my business?

probably not? although my badge - branded with human resource department in big bold letters - burns through my shirt from where it hung, pinned against my sweater like a reminder that i probably should care. maybe even propose to schedule yet another orientation on employee fraternization like i haven't ever been caught up in one of those kinds of situations in the past during a time in my life where i was taking anything i could get.

my girlfriend worked just a few floor below me, with properly filed paperwork with HR in our employee record folders. but i digress, i was fine. emery was fine. thus, we were fine, labelled and everything. a lot okay-er than garcia and santos were.

i eye garcia. the good doctor seemingly unaffected by the look on doctor santos had on her face before the elevator doors closed. internally, i wanted to say something more in line with hospital policies on personal relationships between colleagues, even more so the kind with someone with a little more authority involved with someone who didn't.

but, of course i wouldn't do that. i expect she was privvy to emery and i's past situation, and i was not about to make myself out to be some kind of hypocrite. plus, disregarding what i had just witnessed, it was as though doctor santos seemed more or less - for the lack of a better word - content with the arrangement, albeit garcia seemed more than content keeping things between them casual and lowkey. kids these days, really.

"...good afternoon, dr. garcia," i say coolly, almost a litte too coolly - with that tone emery said i always had when i was trying to pry information out of people that i was bound to share with princess and perlah in the few minutes i spent in the pitt, routing forms and grabbing documents or badgering some unsuspecting bastard about answering an email i sent weeks ago. but i digress. this was my work voice, that i used at work, and was now currently using at work to make polite conversation with someone i had met outside of work on a rare night off with emery.

"likewise," she hums, glancing down at her pager, then at the lit up button on the elevator panel, "4th floor - off to see walsh?"

"uh - nope," i reply, popping the p, "off to retrieve some surveys gloria asked us to give out last week to all the departments,"

yolanda hums noncommittally, glancing once again at her pager when it beeps.

something else you must know is that emery also said i had a tendency not to let things go and pass quietly if it bothered me so much, never mind passing up an opportunity to bring it up in conversation to address it even when there was little to zero chance of it getting dealt with.

"you two should talk. like, properly."

a tense silence fills the elevator and i see how doctor garcia's shoulders stiffen just a tad.

"...excuse me?"

"boundaries, expectations - if they're being crossed or being met," i shrug, busying my one hand by pretending to shuffle through the stack of papers in the other one, "communicating isn't as bad for relationships as much as -"

"that's rich coming from you, sparkles," yolanda scoffs, shooting me a glance over her shoulder.

"now what's that supposed to mean?" i frown, looking at her over the top of my glasses. my line of work found communiation and clear boundaries and expectation very seriously, of course i would advocate for them (even given past aversion of communication, of course, i was a changed woman - best in communicating and everything).

"aren't you and walsh in the exact same boat?" she snorts, laughing to herself.

"uhm - no?" my head tilts in slight confusion, confusion she mirrored on her face with half body turn to look at me, "we've been official for months now,"

"you? and walsh?" she looks totally bewildered, "since when?"

"a couple months and i'm not saying any more," i huff, "and just so you know, em and i know about the betting pool,"

"if i win, we could split the profit,"

"hmm, could we?" i roll my eyes good-naturedly, sighing, "listen - all i'm saying is: get your shit together and stop dragging that poor girl around and talk to her nicely or so help me god, i will set her up with doctor ellis."

casual, casual, casual.

i tapped the end of my pencil against my chin. maybe reviewing my old posts and pictures was not the wisest idea i've had yet, after all, when was ruminating over my past bad decisions ever a good idea. i was supposed to be looking for throwback photos for a friend's birthday post, but somehow i ended up here, staring at a photo of emery and i, or rather a photo where both emery and i were present. the very root of the betting pool i was talking about with garcia earlier. to be fair, the friend i was making a birthday post for is in the photo, and it is a really good photo, which is why i linger on it a lot of the times i scan through photos for the sake of nostalgia and throwback moments i could post online.

i had my arms around my friend and they had theirs around me, we had matching smiles, glitter on our eyelids, cheeks flushed from all the laughs and dancing we had been doing throughout the night. i was leaning against my friend, balanced on one foot on tiptoe so i could at least be at the same height as they were. and in the back, in the very corner of the photo, on the verge of being barely visible unless you looked close enough, was emery, eyes narrowed and looking right at us, the photo snapped just as soon as she came into view with a drink in her hand. the first time i noticed it, i teased her about it - "were you trying to blow up my head with your mind, walsh?" followed by quite a hearty laugh. emery scoffed and turned away and i had just missed how her ears were reddening, only offering a raised eyebrow and receiving no response but a shrug from abbot when i spotted her swatting his arm after he had said something to her.

it was a harmless looking photo, when emery was cropped out of the corner.

nowadays, the more i stared at it...

huh.

you really could see the tension.

blinking, my head whips around towards the direction of the front door when i heard it open, followed by emery's voice calling out my name.

"kitchen!" i call back, stepping from behind the island and lowering my laptop screen enough that she wouldn't be able to see the photo i was staring at even if she was standing right next to it.

"what are you doing up?" emery calls from the hallway.

i shrug, leaning against the doorframe of the kitchen, watching her dump her bag onto the ground and peel off her sweater, followed by a long stretch before she started walking towards me with a soft smile.

"don't -" she imitates my shrug, "- me,"

"i will -" i shrug back, sliding my arms around her midsection, "- you as much as i want, thank you very much,"

emery hums, unimpressed, "how was your day?" she asks softly, pressing a tender, greeting kiss to my lips.

"busy, and long, but definitely not as busy and long as yours,"

she hums again, something closer to a groan when my fingers press on a knot in her neck, gently massaging away the tension. "would you mind grabbing me some pajamas while i unpack my go-bag and lay down on the couch for a bit? i'm exhausted,"

"mhmm, anything for you, grumpy,"

" grumpy?" she snorts, "have you been secretly spending time with garcia and picking up all her nicknames?"

"funnily enough, i saw her in the elevator this afternoon when i was picking up the questionnaires for gloria's surveys," i pull away, already turning to head to our shared bedroom.

"she better not have been trying anything funny," she calls after me jokingly.

"i was the funniest thing in that elevator!"

"that's my girl!"

i laugh to myself, shaking my head while i rummage through her drawers, pulling out a shirt and comfy pants before returning to the living room.

"by the way, i borrowed your - emery?" i scan the room only for her not to be there, so i tiptoe over to the kitchen and i could imagine how much of a deer-in-the-headlights look i sported when i saw her standing in front of my laptop, smirking, "...that opened on its own,"

"mhmm, sure," she nods slowly, crossing her arms over her chest.

"i was looking for pictures i could post for -"

"hey, i didn't say anything," emery holds her hands up in surrender, "wasn't gonna say anything,"

"your face does all the talking,"

"i'm just curious!" she starts to laugh.

"fine! i was contemplating!" i semi-aggressively set down her pajamas on the counter beside the laptop, shutting it.

"contemplating?" she echoes, "contemplating what?"

"mostly how i managed to survive all your mixed signals,"

"wow," emery's brows shoot to the top of her head, " my mixed signals?"

"okay - how i managed to survive a situationship then, all the shit i could never imagine myself being okay with now that i've experienced something a lot more stable,"

her eyes narrow this time, face contorted into an expression where she wasn't sure if she should laugh or be concerned. her hands - still smelling of hospital disinfectant and that hand lotion i gave her after she expressed feeling that her hands were a little too dry for hand holding - gently caress my face, "what's got you so reminiscent of days gone by?"

"well, shakespeare -" i huff out a laugh, "i'm just - like i said, i saw garcia in the elevator, there was a mostly one-sided conversation about talking about boundaries and shit in relation to her - situation with trinity and i just - spiraled, i guess," i shrug, eyes dropping, "i don't know - i'm just baffled, honestly, as someone who's, well, me, i'm just baffled beyond belief that i survived all that with you back then,"

when i look back up at emery, she was fighting back a laugh so i hit her shoulder, "fuck you, walsh, i'm trying to talk here,"

"i'm - i'm sorry," she starts to wheeze.

"then stop laughing," i whine, hitting her shoulder again, "god forbid i try being vulnerable, shit,"

"no - no, i'm sorry, really," my girlfriend draws me closer again, hand resting on the back of my neck, pressing apologetic kisses to the side of my lips, "honestly, there are days where i kinda feel like that too," her voice had lowered like she was telling me a secret. in a way, i guesss she was. vulnerability and opening up without sarcasm attached to it to deflect from that vulnerability was still a small journey we were trying to navigate together.

"...really?" i ask just as softly, looking up at her.

"mhmm, really-really," she replies, thumb smoothing over my cheek, "i'm surprised you wanted something beyond casual just as much as i did,"

my heart softens like a hundred-fold, evidenced by the way my lips curl up in a smile.

emery smiles back, and in that moment, i thanked my lucky stars that i was brave enough to kiss her the first time i ever did.