voidsagent

“Jesus christ, Jack!”, You yelp, feet splashing aggressively in the puddles below you as you follow his lead, moving as quickly as you could.

Jack was speed walking ahead of you—careful not to slip from his prosthesis, hand firmly on your elbow as he pulled you along with him.

The rain had come out of nowhere; one second the park was calm and breezy, the next you were drenched. You’d been sitting under a tree across the street to get as far away from the ED as possible during your break, allowing yourself to clear your head.

Jack was just coming in for his shift, camo backpack slung over his shoulder—one hand grasping the strap. His scrubs were mismatched; dark navy blue pants, a black top and dark brown undershirt—he looked like the epitome of an attending running on pure fumes.

But still, he had that crooked half smile at the corner of his lips when he saw you—stopping in his tracks when he was close enough.

“You planning to escape?”, He asked, voice teasing.

You looked at him; “You gonna tell on me if I am?”

He looked around before raising his hands in fake surrender; “I didn’t see a thing.”

His eyes flicked towards the ground once before trailing back up to you; “Although I think we’d be pretty lost without you, just saying.”

There it was; one of Jack’s little flirty comments slipping out so easily.

“That so?”, You huff; “Big strong attending can’t handle the ED if i’m not there?”

“God no.”

He laughs softly, smirk still lingering. He steps closer, close enough you can feel his warmth but not enough that you’re touching. You look up behind your sunglasses at Jack looking down at you.

“Need your favorite nurse fix, cowboy?”, You tease.

The lilt in your voice makes his ears and neck burn red.

“Who said you were my favorite?”, His squeezes his fists at his side; “But yeah…maybe I do.”

A silence settles between you as a cool breeze floats around you.

“Your shift start yet?”, You ask him.

Jack checks his watch; “Fifteen minutes, yet.”

You nod, patting the ground next to you; smoothing the top of the blanket you’re sitting on. You can see Jack hesitate—eyes drifting towards the bright red sign above the entrance to your shared work; his feet always pulling him to the ED.

“Jack”, You say.

He turns back towards you.

“Sit. They’ll live for a few minutes without you.”

He grunts as he lowers himself to the ground, palms flat against the ground behind him—letting his hands support him as he situates himself. You can see him shift a little, tugging at the leg of his scrub pants.

“Your leg ok?”, You ask.

He grunts; “Been better, been worse. I’ll live.”

“Jack—“

“I’ll be ok, sweetheart. Don’t you worry about me”, Jack says, offering you a small crooked smile.

Silence surrounds you, his shoulder brushes yours. His body stays awkwardly straight; like he’s holding himself back from leaning in more.

A few minutes of comfortable silence pass before he reaches out to thumb the fabric at the bottom of your scrub top; a new soft yellow that was way too bright for the emergency department—much like Jack thought you were.

Jack always saw you as sunshine, especially now; here with your bright smile and hair clipped back in a claw clip that matched your scrubs. The way sun rays seemed to emanate from your face as the sky slowly started to darken around you.

“This new?”, Jack asked softly.

“Mhm”, You answer with a soft hum.

Jack’s quiet for a moment, pointer finger and thumb rubbing at the buttery material between his fingers; “I like them…’Looks good on you.”

The butterflies in your stomach stir.

“Everything looks good on you”, He adds; “…Hard not to when you’re so pretty.”

You feel your face heat up immediately, shyly hiding your smile in the crook of your arm.

Jack reaches over and gently pulls your face towards him by your chin, the same calloused fingers he’d just been holding the fabric of your scrubs with—now soothing against your soft skin.

“Hey”, Jack says softly when you finally look at him; “None of that. Don’t go hiding on me now, sweetheart.”

The nickname flowed through your ears and went straight to your heart; beating loud and hard against your ribcage. The sky around you grows darker.

Jack’s eyes are roaming your face now, tension buzzing between you like electricity.

A breath leaves your mouth, getting stuck in your throat halfway before fully escaping. Your eyes tracing Jack’s face; rugged and handsome with years of experience behind him. Permanently exhausted but still so beautiful.

Just when you think he’s going to close the gap between you, that’s when the sky opened up; rain pouring down on you.

Now here you were, running after him—his hand had found your elbow, skin burning with the touch. His quick steps still balanced so he doesn’t slip as he leads you both across the road and closer to the ambulance bay.

Despite the sudden cool air that came with the rain; your skin is on fire when Jack finally pulls you under the safety of the concrete canopy at the hospital entrance. Your wide eyes flick around, watching the rain plummeting from the sky around you. But Jack’s eyes only find you.

His hands are still on your elbow, one sliding down to rest steadily on your waist. Somehow, his hands are still warm despite being wet.

You flick your gaze back to Jack; really looking at him now. He’s drenched, probably soaked to the bone. His hair’s darker now, the familiar light grey curls taking on an almost black hue. Water drips down his flushed face and the curls at his nape. His tongue pokes out to lick his lips once, eyes never leaving your face. His pupils so blown there’s almost no hazel of his iris’ left; just black.

“You ok?”, He asks, breathless and chest heaving.

You don’t have words to answer him, every answer or quick wit remark you’d normally have had flown out of your brain the second he touched you—the second he looked at you with those blissed out eyes. He ducks his head to meet your gaze when you don’t answer, tucking a strand of wet hair that had fallen loose back behind your ear.

“Hey…”, He says softly.

You shiver at his touch.

“You cold?”, His brows are furrowed now.

“No”, you say, looking up at him—lip between your bottom teeth; head shaking softly.

“You sure?”

He pulls you closer, his eyes flicking from your face down to where his hand is still resting on your waist; then back.

You nod. Still nothing coherent to say coming to your head.

“You’re shaking”, His voice comes soft and laced with concern he can’t quite hide.

“I— I’m ok, I just-“

“Just what, sweetheart?”

Your heart thuds louder, mouth dry and breathing shallow.

“It’s just…you”, You rasp out.

Jack doesn’t falter, but you don’t miss the small twitch at the corner of his mouth; “Me?”

You nod again.

“What about me, honey?”

“You’re here.”

The words mean more than just his presence, than just this very moment. Months of tension and charged moments lingering in the damp air between you.

“Yeah”, he says, holding your chin between his fingers again; “I am….that ok?”

You can feel his breath against your skin, warm and comforting. His face is inches from yours now, foreheads almost touching. You can only nod; words gone again at being so close to him.

He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth; “Can I kiss you?”

The words hit you like a freight train, goosebumps erupting over your skin. You nod before you can stop yourself.

Jack brushes his nose against yours; “I’m gonna need words this time, sweetheart.”

“Yes”, you say; “Yes, please.”

Jack moves closer, pulling you flush against him; open mouth hovering mere centimeters from your own. Warmth fans your face.

Then he finally lets his lips meet yours. It’s soft at first, tentative and slow—like he’s learning you. Then it speeds up, his mouth opening a bit more now to slip his tongue through his lips; swiping against your mouth—asking to be let it.

You gladly accept, parting your lips to grant him access. Your tongues dance together, not quite fighting for dominance—but more pulling you closer. Your fingers find the back of Jack’s head, running them through the short curls there. Jack lets out a low groan, rumbling up through his chest.

You swallow the noise, pushing your lips harder against his—sighing when he pulls you even closer.

When you finally pull apart—lungs burning; Jack rests his forehead against yours. Nothing but the sound of your mixed breaths surrounds you, a soft laugh leaving his lips.

“You have no idea”, He smiles; “How long i’ve been wanting to do that.”

Still dazed, you shake your head; “Oh believe me, I do.”

Jack finds your eyes again, tucking strands that still stick to your face behind your ears again—pulling you close as he cups your face.

You lean up to kiss him again, but his lips find your forehead instead—soft and lingering against your dewy skin.

“Let me take you out after work, a real date”, He says softly; “I’ll pick you up, take you somewhere nice; let me treat you like you deserve.”

You feel your heart melt into a puddle in your chest, leaking down and mixing with the rain puddles around you. You’ve both finally started to dry, clothes barely damp now.

“Ok”, you breathe; “But only if you wear that dress shirt I like, the one from the conference we went to?”

Jack laughs softly against your skin, pressing another kiss to your temple; “Done, sweetheart.”

He lets himself linger there for a moment, swaying you both gently before he pulls away—hesitant like he’s using up all his restraint.

“We better get inside…”, He says.

You groan; “Yeah. My break is definitely over, and you’re late Doctor Abbot.”

His cheeks flush a little at his name leaving your lips, but he just tucks you under his arm—hand hovering at your back; “Cmon, trouble. The Pitt needs our best nurse.”

Inside, you go your separate ways. Jack’s touch lingering on your arm as you jump back into the chaos. He passes the hub, heading to drop off the bag still slung over his shoulder—smile etched on his face.

“You’re tracking water into my ED, Abbot”, Dana says; “And you’re gonna scare the med students with that smile.”

Jack shakes his head; “Sue me, i’m in a good mood.”

Dana takes the glasses off of her face, giving Jack a full once over; “You know something we don’t?”

Jack laughs softly, mouth twitching as he turns to the staff room door; hovering against it. His eyes find yours for a small second across the floor, heat climbing up both of your necks.

“Maybe I do.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The room stilled.

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

Shen choked on his iced coffee.

Ellis let out a “Daammnnnn!!”

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

“Only until typewriters became popular.”

He was giving it right back.

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

─ ─── ─── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ─── ─── ─

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He’d lost his Jack spark.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you sure? Is there someth—“

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

You watch him go with wide eyes and stunned silence.

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

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

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

So were his.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

─ ─── ─── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ─── ─── ─

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

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

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

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

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

Survive this shift, sounded like a good one.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You wanted to laugh at the obviousness of it.

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

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

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

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

─ ─── ─── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ─── ─── ─

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jack stilled, everyone’s eyes on you.

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

“No”, He blurted out.

“What?—“

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

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

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

“Doctor Abbot, I-“

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

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

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

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

“What?”, Jack snapped.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You don’t know when you ended up in the bathroom splashing water on your face, but here you were.

A few tears lingered in your eyes; but they weren’t from Jack’s words. Sure they hurt, but the only thing on your mind was how worried you were for him.

Never in a million years did you think you’d see the day Jack Abbot snapped at someone during a trauma—let alone at you.

You dabbed at your face with a cold paper towel, taking a deep breath before you walked back out to find your water bottle.

“You ok?”, Dana asked softly.

“M’Fine. But he’s not.”

Both of your eyes found Jack’s figure across the room. Still working in the trauma, still rigid and still making your chest ache.

Jack Abbot hadn’t cracked yet, but he was seconds away from doing so.

The moment it finally happened the ED was filled to the brim, staff were running in every direction. Another vet had come in with chest pains, everything else seemed normal; until he tanked.

Jack moved like he was back in the field; nothing else around him existed except for the man on the table. He coded within a half an hour. Jack immediately started compressions, ignoring the ache in his leg that had turned to jolting pain in the last few hours.

He ignored Parker’s voice at hour one. Just kept doing compressions.

1…2…3…shock.

He ignored Shen’s a half an hour later.

1…2…3…shock.

He ignored Robby’s voice at the two hour mark. The first time, at least.

When Robby stood behind him, so close Jack could feel the heat of his words crawling up his spine; he couldn’t ignore him anymore.

“Jack…there’s nothing we can do, he’s gone”, Robby said softly.

Jack’s eyes stung as he finally, finally removed his hands from the patient’s chest—handprints almost visible in their wake. He took a step back, feet faltering and making him sway for a second. Robby reached out to steady him; but the touch burned him. He pulled away, looking around the trauma room at all the eyes on him.

His gaze landed on you; watching him with wide and concern filled eyes. Almost teary with his own. That stung like a punch; because if you were watching him, so was everyone else—which meant it was bad. Whatever he’d spiraled into, whatever he had tried so desperately to hide; he couldn’t anymore.

He left the trauma room in two wide strides, TOD leaving his lips in a brief huff; the door swinging shut with a loud gust behind him. He didn’t take off his gown or his glasses or the gloves that were sticky against his hands. He just moved to wherever his feet were taking him; wherever they knew best.

The ED paused around him.

Dana watched him rush by with horror and dread donning her face—in all the years she’d worked with him, she’d only seen him like this once. A few weeks after his wife had passed.

She watched him disappear into the stairwell, knowing better than to go after him. The silence following was deafening. She swallowed hard, looking around once before speaking.

“Alright, everyone back to work.”

The ED resumed like the pause had never happened.

But the whispers and concerned gazes remained; because Jack Abbot was a steady beacon in a place that became reckless.

What happens when the beacon itself becomes unsteady?

─ ─── ─── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ─── ─── ─

“Where’s Abbot?”, You asked Dana, breathless and cheeks hot.

She sighed hard; “…Getting some air.”

You didn’t wait for her to say anything else before you were moving; climbing the same stairwell Jack had only a few minutes before.

Your footsteps were lighter, still just as hurried and charged—but they didn’t carry the same weight that his had.

You swung open the heavy door to the roof with a small grunt; the cool early-morning air smacked you in the face—making your already pink cheeks redder.

Your eyes landed on him immediately. Wrong side of the railing. Stethoscope hanging from the metal behind him. Like he’d already made a decision. You swallowed thick.

“Jack”, You spoke.

No movement except the faintest shake of his head. He didn’t answer, didn’t look at you, didn’t look away from the city below him. He was stuck there like a magnet; like something else was holding him down. Mental weight pushing down on his shoulders harder than it ever had before.

“Jack”, You try again, stepping up behind him but still leaving some distance; “Jack, go home”, You say.

“What home?”, He spits, eyes rimmed red; “I have no home.”

You see his face only for a second; but it’s enough to send your heart down to your stomach and a sudden spike of urgency down your spine.

His hands dig deeper into his pockets, heels of his shoes going with them against the rooftop.

“It’s just an empty fucking box. Too dark. Ghosts of everyone I’ve ever failed to treat that haunt me and keep me awake at night. Makes my head spin and digs me deeper into this fucking…hole that I can’t get out of.”

His chin wobbles now, a scoff escaping his lips despite himself. He turns further away, eyes flicking back across the city line—blurry and glowing behind unshed tears. Face red as he puffs out his cheeks with a breath, shaking his head like it’ll make all this disappear. The thoughts, the memories, the darkness; that fact that you’re seeing him like this. At his lowest. When he’s supposed to be the one there for you.

“I lost two vets today”, He grunts; “Two.”

“That’s not your fault, Jack. You did everything you could”, You say.

He scoffs again, tears still burning as he looks at his feet; his bad leg that echoes like a taunt.

“Are you still seeing your therapist?”

It’s an innocent question, but it hits Jack wrong.

Another scoff; “Yeah, fuck lot of good that’s doing.”

He runs a hand desperately through his hair; “I go in there, every week. It’s the same questions. Same schpiel, same routine….I spit some bullshit back that isn’t true just to get out of there.”

“Jack, you can’t do that…”

“Why not?”, He almost yells, almost, but not quite; “It doesn’t work anyways.”

You hesitate, wracking your brain before you take one small step forward. Just one, enough to test the boundaries. Jack doesn’t step away.

“I’ve seen too much. I’ve seen…so much”, His voice cracks, wavering and wet; “I’ve seen way more than any person should ever have to see. ‘Seen so many people die, slip right through my fingers like nothing I did mattered…”

He’s quiet, then a whisper; “…Maybe it doesn’t.”

You step closer at that, hand resting lightly on his shoulder; “That’s not true.”

He doesn’t look at you; “How do you know?”

“I know because i’ve seen you, Jack.”

He doesn’t say anything back, shuffling his hands back into his pockets, keys jingling quietly between his fingers.

“What you do, matters so much Jack”, You whisper; “You matter, so much.”

He finally looks up now, tear lines streaking his red cheeks—the whites of his eyes just as red. His face heavy and tired and holding the weight of the world in them.

“You’re the safety net, you’re the hope of so many patients. You’re the steadiness and the knowledge and what people need when they’re drowning. You’re kind, and competent and compassionate and caring. So many people see that; including me.”

He takes a deep breath; “Everything I care about, everything I fight so hard for. Fight so hard to protect, goes away. Gets taken away from me…like I was never meant to have it in the first place.”

His shoulders sage under your hands.

“My deployment, my leg…my wife”, He breathes, voice shaking; “It’s all gone…like some big joke.”

You hesitate before you speak; “You still have them Jack. Maybe not physically, but they’re with you all the same. In your heart, in your life story, your experience.”

He shifts his weight a little.

“A wise man once told me that just because you loose something doesn’t mean it’s truly gone. You get to choose how much it stays around.”

The corner of Jack’s mouth turns up the tiniest fraction; “Sounds like a pretty smart guy.”

You smile now; “The smartest guy I know…don’t tell Robby.”

Jack takes a deep breath, still a little shaky as he fully turns to look at you; “I don’t know how to do this without her…to allow myself to live without it feeling like I’m replacing her.”

“What do you mean?”, You ask.

“To allow myself you”, He exhales once, eyes dipping back down to the ground.

His words hit you in the chest hard. You scramble for words, somehow still managing to find the right ones.

“I’m not trying to replace her, Jack. I know I never could, and I’d never want to”, You reassure him; “…But maybe I want to find a different spot to fill.”

Jack softens at that, you see it in his eyes, in his entire face.

“You already have, kid.”

His hand finds your arm, finger twitching softly against your skin.

“Now please, for the love of god; come back on the other side of that railing before I have a stroke”, You say.

That earns a small laugh from him, before he pulls back and ducks under the cool metal—straightening his back when he’s on the other side.

“C’mere”, He breathes, pulling you against his chest without another word.

It knocks the air out of you. Being this close to him, you can smell every layer of his cologne. The sweat that’s lingering on his skin, the sadness. The warmth.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you”, He whispers; “I didn’t mean any of it. I know it was an accident and anyone could’ve done it and I wasn’t in the right space. I know that doesn’t excuse it. I was an asshole and i’m sor-“

“Jack”, You stop him with a hand at his cheek; “It’s ok. I’m not mad at you.”

“You’re not?”, He asks it like his ears are lying to him.

You shake your head; “No”, You tell him; “I’m worried about you.”

He lets his forehead fall against yours for a brief second before pulling away.

“Thank you”, He breathes; “For coming after me.”

You pull back just enough the look at him; “Hey, wasn’t gonna let my best attending think himself off the roof. We need him too much.”

His chest rumbles a little at that. You find his hand with yours, interlacing your fingers to hold him closer, still scared he might change his mind and jump over the railing.

“M’not going anywhere, sweetheart”, He says, voice gruff and low.

You realize then he still has tears on his cheeks, brushing your thumb softly against his skin to wipe it away.

“You know…maybe you don’t have to do it alone”, You start; “Maybe we could go visit your wife together…if you want to.”

You offer it quietly, regret pulling at you when you feel him tense up.

“Unless that’s overstepping it, i’m sor-“

“I’d like that a lot”, Jack says, cutting you off and quieting all your worries with one breath.

He lets his hand find the back of your head, pulling you closer to press his lips to your temple. He lingers there for a moment; letting it ground him and bring him back to the place he matters most.

“I guess we should get back down there”, He finally says, grabbing his stethoscope off the railing and swinging it back around his neck.

You step in front of him; “No”, you say.

His eyes widen and he cocks his head with a disbelieving laugh; “No?”

“You”, You say, “Are going home. Dana’s orders.”

“She’s bossy”, Jack says.

“You’re tired”, You offer; “and in pain.”

His shoulders drop at that, finally letting the full force of his exhaustion show.

“Yeah”, He says; “I am.”

But then he moves closer to you, and you suddenly realize; he doesn’t want to be alone.

“Want to go get breakfast first? My treat”, You offer.

“I’d like that, too”, He says with a small nod and a quirk of his lips to match.

He follows you to the roof door, hand hovering at your elbow; holding the door open for you to step back inside the chaos of the hospital.

“But if you think i’m letting you pay, you’re wrong”, He says, stepping in after you.

The door shuts behind you both, his front pressed up against your back as he steadies you at the waist; big warm hands grounding you.

“Must you argue?”, You tsk.

“Makes things more interesting”, He says, shrugging once before moving you both forward; “Cmon kid, bed’s calling my name.”

You watch him go for a second, how he turns with a brow quirked as if to ask “you coming?” How his face is still slightly puffy from crying, the way he carries himself differently now, more vulnerable. More open.

You realize then that things will be different between you two. Different in the way he lets himself hover near you; touching now instead of holding himself back.

Different in how you end up in his bed that morning after breakfast, holding him close as he drifts off; silent cries and shaking shoulders finally relaxing.

The way he’d eventually kiss you for real, soft and surprising outside the ambulance bay after another stressful night like this one. How he’d start reaching for you when things got hard. How you ground him the way no one else can even get close to.

The remnants of outside air floated around you and Jack in the stairwell, your eyes sweeping over him one last time to make sure he was okay; that he wasn’t going to crumble right then and there.

“I’m ok”, He says softly when you step up next to him; “I’ve got you.”

Your heart clenches once, pushing sweaty curls out of his face with a small smile; because Jack Abbot is safe with you.

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