Meet Cousin McAdoo
Caffeine Crash
Tour de Richmond
Go For It
Cuddle Me Like You Mean It
Sentiments
Officially Mine
Baby Tartt Do Do Do Do Do Do
Are You Ashamed?
Meddlesome
Pity Date
Always On the Sidelines
Here On Out
The Music In Me
I Live for You
Stay Right Here
Autographs
It's A Family Affair
Bad Influence
Mr. & Mrs. Kent
Gentle Heart
Unexpectedly Yours Masterlist (Regency AU)
Little Mic Interviews
PREVIOUS CHAPTER FOUND HERE
Slightly NSFW 18+
TAG LIST:
@youngadult9016 @mrsfilipchibstelford @mamawiggers1980 @ravennaortiz @liveinsteadofdreaming @redwoodmaya
--------========
Chapter Seven: Unconventional
Y/N was thankful that Skeeter had been willing to allow her to borrow his Toyota pick up truck as she was quite sure the old hearse would not even manage to make the short thirty mile drive from Charming to Lodi.
Although it should reasonably only take her a couple of hours to travel from the funeral home in Charming to Saint Elizabeth’s Institute in Lodi, Y/N was not willing to take the risk of anything happening to the old hearse.
Given that her Acura was still in the care of TM Auto, and would be for a while at least according to Chibs, she was not looking to add another broken down vehicle to her problems.
Skeeter had not seemed to mind her borrowing his truck for a few hours at the very least. He knew she’d been putting this off for far too long now.
Y/N would be lying if she tried to claim she had not been tempted to use her lack of reliable transportation as a reason to avoid making this trip today, but she knew she’d been putting it off for far too long now.
The last time she’d made the trip had been two Christmases ago when she’d visited home for the holidays.
She adjusted her coat pulling it closed tighter against her body as she made her way through the long hallways of Saint Elizabeth’s.
It was a plain looking building, a little dull to be honest. It was a large structure that looked very much like any other hospital. The sign out front simply stated Saint Elizabeth’s Institute and stated the year it had been established.
The inside of the building felt sterile and always held an odor of bleach and an undertone of something quite unpleasant that someone had attempted to cover with lavender air freshener. The scent always gave Y/N a headache.
The entire place actually made her feel ill. The building always felt far too cold even in the winter. The sparse furniture in the hallway and the lack of decor only added to the feeling of cold. The walls were all either white or a pale blue. She’d assumed the color choices were meant to be calming, but it just made her feel lethargic.
The overhead lights gave the hallway a far too bright tone and patients and nurses alike passed Y/N on occasion as she slowly made her way through the halls, though the patients for the most part seemed to be escorted by a nurse or some other aide.
Y/N cringed as she neared the hospital’s recreation room having been told by the nurse on hand that this would be the best place to visit with her brother.
Lunch had ended not long ago and medications had just been given out. Most of the hospital’s residents were in their rooms or off to their daily therapy sessions. Y/N had been told simply to head to the recreation room and a nurse would fetch Daniel and bring him to her.
She sighed as she reached the room trying not to cringe as she took a seat in a plastic chair by a small table. She’d never grow accustomed to the strange furniture in the institute. It was all plastic and mostly bolted down to the floor.
She knew the reasoning of course; some patients might be prone to violent fits and it wasn’t wise to have heavy furniture that was not attached to the floor. A nurse had reassured Y/N, the first time she’d noticed the strange furniture, that it was intended both for the safety of the staff and residents alike.
The recreation room didn’t seem to have much for recreation. There was a television which was bolted up high against the wall, a few board games in a cabinet, a few books and magazines, and a few jigsaw puzzles. Y/N guessed that the staff kept most of the recreation locked away until it was time to use it.
Y/N adjusted the visitors badge that had been attached to her coat, briefly debating taking the coat off but deciding against it as she noticed a chill to the air as the air conditioner switched on making the cold space all the more icy.
She shifted in her seat crossing and uncrossing her legs. She frowned slightly regretting not wearing something more casual.
She’d chosen to wear an outfit she might usually wear at work; a black dress, tights, a dark coat, and a pair of black ballet flats.
She was technically making this trip during a work-day after all, so she’d dressed for the work day.
She sighed, staring down at her hands as she placed them on the table in front of her. She resisted the urge to pull out the pocket mirror she carried in her purse and check her appearance. She silently debated if she should have worn her makeup a little lighter. The darker lipstick most likely made her look all too much like a woman in her late twenties instead of the girl Daniel at times remembered her as being.
A voice in the back of her head warned her that Daniel might not entirely recognize her today, though she’d been told by the nurse that he was having a good memory day.
Y/N knew that most of the time though Daniel most likely still pictured her as that eighteen year old girl with a nostril piercing and an honestly peachy tone of pink hair that had faded over the summer, her roots all too noticeable. He remembered her as she’d been back when he was 24 years old, the year he’d had his accident.
She knew she’d grown since then. She no longer appeared to be that rebellious punky teen girl. She looked like an elegant young lady.
It felt strange to realize that though she was the younger sibling it felt as though she'd somehow taken the role of the older sibling. She was older now than her brother had been when he'd had his accident.
She was certain her more professional adult look might seem alarming to him if his memory happened to be struggling that day.
Y/N wouldn’t lie, at times she feared that a day would come where Daniel would no longer recognize her as his sister. As they grew older she knew her appearance would change all the more.
The doctors didn’t seem to have any clear answers as to whether his memory would decline further with his head injury. For the most part she felt that the doctors seemed to stick to the line that no head injury was exactly alike. She’d heard the promise that they would monitor his symptoms but only time would tell what the future held for him.
All they knew was that her brother struggled with his impulse control, his emotional control, and occasionally short term memory. He also struggled with self-care; remembering to do something as simple as bathing and brushing his teeth. Then there was the issue of the seizures, though they were rare.
The medications he took were meant to control the seizures as well as his emotional outbursts.
For the most part Y/N felt that the medications only made him drowsy and slow. They’d caused him to put on weight as they increased his appetite. That was why he would not stay on them if he was left to his own devices. He didn’t like how they made him feel, but without them his symptoms only worsened.
She knew that because of all of these issues that the hospitalization was necessary. It didn’t stop her from feeling guilty as hell though.
She tried to appear as though she was carefree as the nurse she’d spoken to entered the room guiding her brother over to the table.
Y/N hesitated to reach for him as he was sat down at the table across from her. She always feared touching him first, almost certain that one day he would only see her as a stranger.
Her brother was clean shaven; it was a stark contrast to how he’d been before the accident. He usually always wore some scruff. His hair was no longer shaggy the same way he’d once kept it; instead it was cut shorter than he’d ever keep it if it was entirely up to him. He seemed far too pale and the dark circles under his eyes were far too noticeable. He was wearing the same thing he usually wore each time she saw him; gray sweatpants and a white t- shirt with socks and houseshoes.
He was at least clean; the staff made sure he bathed.
Y/N at least made sure to send him clothing as often as she could, always initialing the tags with his name so that it would hopefully not be misplaced when the laundry was done. The hospital bracelet he wore on his wrist alerted staff of his name and his level of care along with some other information. The print was always too fine to read without making her feel like she had to strain her eyes.
She was relieved as he seemed to recognize her after a moment of uncertainty. He spoke his voice a raspy sluggish tone as his hand reached out for hers. “What are you doing here?”
Y/N spoke her voice soft as she tried to pretend the nurse wasn’t lingering nearby clearly monitoring the situation. “I was in the area. I thought I’d come for a visit.”
“Is dad here too?” The question spilled from Daniel’s lips Y/N doing all she could not to outwardly grimace.
Telling her brother that their father was dead was not something that had stuck in his memory. He went back and forth between remembering their father was dead to forgetting it entirely.
His doctors had advised her not to tell him that their father was dead during the times he seemed to forget. It was too upsetting to him, she’d been told. It would only make him relive the fresh grief over and over again.
“No, he couldn’t make it…work is busy. Skeeter and he had a big funeral they had to prep for.” Y/N lied through her teeth hating that it had to be like this.
She knew it was the best case scenario of course. It was cruel to keep making him relive that grief in times like this.
However it was difficult to pretend that their father wasn’t dead and buried in Charming’s cemetery where he’d been for months now. She knew well enough he was dead. She’d embalmed his body at his request in his final wishes. She’d chosen the casket and the flowers as well as the pamphlets for the funeral. She’d found a minister to speak at his funeral. She’d written the obituary and paid to have it posted in Charming’s local newspaper. She had stood in a receiving line for mourners playing the role of the bereaved instead of the funeral director. She’d had to take on the emotional and financial burden of the funeral. She had to read his will and realize her life was changed forever.
She had to do it all by herself, and now she had to carry on this act pretending that none of that emotional turmoil had happened.
Daniel twisted his lips, his brow furrowing. “He’s mad at me.”
“Why would you say that, sweetheart?” Y/N asked managing to give his hand a gentle squeeze trying to keep her voice level.
She winced a voice in the back of her head taunting her that she was an awful sister, lying to her brother carrying on this charade that their father was alive.
Daniel scoffed at the question, his brow furrowing further. “I don’t know…he’s just mad at me. I must have done something awful. That's why he never visits.”
Y/N sighed that cruel voice in the back of her head insisting if their father was still living and had any reason to be mad at anyone then she would probably be the one in deep shit at the moment given her current ties to SAMCRO. She was quite sure she would be the reigning champion of being the family disappointment at the moment.
She pushed the thought from her mind, her voice cracking somewhat as she struggled not to start crying. “That isn’t true, my darling. He’s not mad at you. He loves you very much. He loves both of us more than we know. Even if we upset him, he’d never deny us that love. You know he’s always been there for us…even when we mess up. That’s the kind of dad he is. Remember that time I broke that brand new urn that we had in the display room because I kept playing in the display room after he told me not to. He was so upset but he didn’t even yell or spank me. It was a super expensive urn too…uh had the gold edges to it…it probably cost a fortune, but he only gave me a firm talking to and didn’t make me feel bad for it for too long. I was barely grounded. You know dad’s heart. He wears it on his sleeve. Even if you upset him, he wouldn’t be a jerk about it.”
She paused, taking a deep breath once again lying through her teeth. “You know how he is, Danny. He’s a workaholic. Once he gets caught up with work there’s no pulling him away. I’m sure he’s going to visit soon…maybe once work slows down.”
“When can I go home? I want to go home.” Daniel remarked, apparently moving on from the subject of their father on to another difficult subject.
She sighed, shaking her head, not surprised by the choice in subject. They had this talk often and it was always difficult. “I don’t know when, Danny. You’re still not well. You have to stay here a little longer. Just until you get better. I know it’s hard, but you have to stay here a little longer.”
“I feel fine though. I feel okay, I just want to go home. Please, Y/N take me home.” He insisted his voice cracking, he squeezing her hand almost hard enough it hurt.
She took a deep breath shaking her head, a stray tear working its way down her cheek. She wiped it quickly with her free hand. “I can’t. I wish I could, but I can’t…not yet.”
“Why not?” He snapped, squeezing her hand even harder enough to make her flinch the pain shooting through her nerve endings.
She sighed as the nurse stepped forward ready to step into action if things got too out of hand.
She spoke, taking a deep breath. “Because you aren’t well. I know you think you feel fine, but you aren’t ready to go home yet. Just be patient, sweetheart.”
“It’s easy for you to say. You don’t have to stay here.” He snapped again his grip on her hand not loosening even slightly.
She took another deep breath, shooting the nurse a glance of reassurance before she spoke again. “I know. I’m so sorry. I would take you home if I could, in a heartbeat. We have to wait though.”
She spoke again trying to distract him knowing it was the best method to take when he got worked up like this. “In the meantime try to find things to keep you busy. The grounds here are nice, aren’t they? I saw some flower beds the last time I was here. I know you like going outside and seeing them when it's nice out. You should see the greenhouse back home. The tomatoes and cucumbers are getting big…the strawberries are looking good too. I can bring you some strawberries next time, if they’ll let me. You like those right? The strawberries were always your favorite. I know you didn’t care much for the gardening part of it…except for that time you grew that marijuana plant that you tried to hide behind my tomato plant. I was so annoyed when I found it…and it didn’t really work anyway because you couldn’t keep enough light on it to actually do anything. Remember that?”
“I don’t care, I want to go home.” Daniel snapped at her squeezing all the harder she audibly letting out a gasp the pain becoming a little too much to ignore.
With this the nurse stepped forward two orderlies seeming to appear out of nowhere.
Y/N cringed as her brother was yanked from her by two large orderlies while fighting against the pull. She held her aching hand trying to ignore the pain and keep her voice soothing as she spoke to him. “Daniel, please. Don’t fight them. Just take a deep breath and calm down. It’s okay, just calm down, please, my darling.”
Of course, her soothing did little good, her brother struggling against the hold. Y/N shrank away as the nurse stepped forward placing a hand on her shoulder. “We’ve got this handled, Miss. Y/L/N. Don’t worry. We’re going to give him something to relax him.”
Y/N parted her lips tempted to snap that she didn’t want him doped up more than he already was, but she kept the words at bay
She turned her eyes to the floor feeling helpless as the nurse guided her from the room. She felt the tears begin to fall at the words that were shouted at her by her big brother as she left the room. “I hate you! I don’t want you to come back! I hate you!”
—---
She didn’t allow the tears to fully fall until she left the building, practically collapsing against a bench on the walkway up to the entrance.
She took a deep breath trying her best to keep her composure as she wiped at her eyes furiously.
She was thankful that there were seemingly no other visitors nearby though she had a feeling if there were they would not pay her any mind. She had a feeling her reaction was a normal one for those visiting loved ones at the institution.
She took another deep breath trying hard to push the last words she’d heard her brother say from her mind.
She knew he didn’t mean them, not really. That was the thing about his condition. The filter that should stop him from saying the first thing that came to his mind just didn’t exist anymore.
Y/N stared down at her purse, opening it and searching through it for the travel sized container of tissues she always carried, her hands brushing across her cell phone.
She was stunned as a thought crossed her mind; she wanted Filip.
It felt odd to admit, even if it was only in her head.
It had been a few weeks since that date they’d had and surprisingly Chibs had called her loyally every single day. Although the calls were never quite at the same time each day, they still managed to be a daily occurrence.
It was strange to admit that she’d found some comfort in the calls.
The calls were something she actually found herself looking forward to.
It was almost funny to consider how a few weeks before she had just wanted her admittedly criminally prone Scottish admirer to get lost, but now she happily anticipated the daily phone conversations they had.
She was a bit surprised that he had not pushed her to plan the second date she’d promised him. A small part of her had to wonder if perhaps he was waiting on her to make the next move. It felt almost amusing to consider that the scary outlaw was feeling nervous and waiting for her to make the next move.
The phone conversations they'd had felt light, especially considering the way she’d practically dumped her past traumas into his lap on that first date.
They’d talked about their days, Y/N discussing whichever body she was prepping or her frustrations with the local florist who was always screwing up orders for funeral flowers. He’d talk about something dumb Half-Sack or Juice had done and a bike or car he was working on at the garage.
She’d found that she liked the clear sense of adoration she heard in his voice when he discussed his brothers even when he called them idiots. She’d also discovered that she liked the passion in his voice when he talked about whatever motorcycle he was repairing.
She’d enjoyed listening to him discuss a terrible but healthy smoothie Juice had tried to get him to drink or something truly awkward Half-Sack had managed to say right in front of Clay.
She was surprised to find that Chibs made her laugh. Even when she was stuck in the gloom of embalming a difficult case that felt honestly depressing; she was able to place Chibs on speaker phone and feel some sense of light through the gloom.
The conversations had felt easy with him though they hadn’t necessarily been deep conversations.
It still felt nice; discussing her day with someone. It wasn’t something she’d had with someone in a very very long time.
She was stunned to admit that she had found a sense of comfort with Chibs. It was such a contradiction when she said it outloud; the dangerous outlaw biker felt comforting.
She was surprised to find that he was sweet; it was something she’d not expected. She knew no one would believe her. It sounded like another huge contradiction; the admitted criminal was sweet.
She wasn’t naive of course. She knew that Chibs most likely had a side to himself that was far from sweet. She was aware enough to know that he had most likely done horrible things in the past and was capable of doing terrible things in the future.
It was a simple fact that she was surprised failed to invoke fear in her. If anything, a voice in the back of her head was quick to remind her that she’d done a few awful things of her own lately…even if those awful things were at SAMCRO’s request.
That voice in the back of her head still taunted her of course that Chibs would only lead her back to being the unhappy girl she was living in the chaos of SAMCRO. The voice was all quick to call Chibs a devil who’d tempt her back into being in that dark place she’d been in almost a decade before. The voice insisted he’d lead her right back into hell. It reminded her of something her grandmother used to say; you can’t dance with the devil and then keep wondering why you’re in hell.
Another voice snapped that it was hard to believe she would be unhappy though. She certainly didn’t feel unhappy around him. Being around him didn’t feel like she was in hell. Sure, she was aware that the world he existed in came with a level of chaos.
She reasoned that in a way she had already signed herself back up for that chaos. She’d signed herself up for it the second she’d agreed to help SAMCRO out and had insisted she would be their new funeral home contact for future favors.
She had asked the devil to dance first hadn’t she?
She was still surprised she’d felt so comfortable explaining everything with her brother and dumping some of her childhood traumas onto Chibs. She was even more surprised that he’d not run screaming.
Y/N could admit she’d not exactly been open about the darker aspects of her childhood and teen years with past boyfriends.
She had only mentioned that she’d been raised in a funeral home and her brother was special needs. She’d casually mentioned she’d been rebellious at one point in her life not going into too much detail.
With Chibs, she’d realized that he’d find out the reality of her brother eventually. If she didn’t say something, surely someone around town would mention it.
She’d guessed telling him herself would at least let her control the narrative. At least if it came from her lips then he’d get the truth and not whatever wild tale he might hear from someone else.
Somehow even with the truth about her brother and the darker aspects of her childhood, Chibs had not seemed to shy away.
It was something she was astonished by. She was accustomed to people leaving when she was too much.
She’d more often than not been told she was too exhausting to be around. She’d more than often been referenced to as being difficult by boyfriends and friends alike. She was too morbid, too snarky, too moody, and just flat out too much to put up with for the long-term.
Chibs didn’t seem to think that she was too much.
So maybe that was why she reached for her cell phone dialing the familiar number.
She let out a breath she’d not even realized she’d been holding at the sound of his voice on the other end of the line. “Hen, I was jus’ thinkin’ bout ya.”
She managed to feel a small tight smile cross her features at the statement. She was no longer tempted to tell him that he was full of shit and just trying to flatter his way into her pants.
He’d often started out the phone calls he made to her the same way I wanted to call because I was thinking about you.
It felt nice to believe that he thought about her enough to want to hear her voice.
She managed to speak grimacing as she realized her voice felt as weepy as she felt. “Hey.”
“What’s wrong? Ya sound rough, lass.” The concern was evident in his voice. She could distinctly hear the sounds of the garage in the background hinting he was at TM Auto.
The noise grew fainter indicating he seemed to be moving further from the garage most likely wanting to find some privacy for their conversation.
“I just…I’m out in Lodi…visiting my brother.” She admitted staring down at her lap the stark black of her clothing looking inky and harsh against the pale concrete below her feet.
“Aye, wasn’t a good visit I’m guessin’?” Chibs was fast to respond that concern still so clear in his voice.
She let out a weak laugh shaking her head as she responded. “No, no it wasn’t”
Chibs was fast to speak his voice taking a softer tone, the sound feeling soothing. “Ya wanna talk ‘bout it?”
“I kind of want a good stiff drink to be honest…but uh…yeah…I mean, it’s just difficult. He doesn’t remember our dad is…gone…and he doesn’t get why he can’t go home. It’s just…it’s a shit situation. The last thing he said before I left was that he hates me and never wants me to come back.” She remarked a shaky sigh leaving her, her eyes still focused on the pavement below her trying hard to not let herself break down again.
“Oh, Hen, ya know that ain’ true righ’. He doesn’ mean it. He’s jus’...confused, love. Yer his sister. He loves ya.” was the reply she received. She was a bit surprised to hear a hint of shakiness in his own voice.
“I know, I know…he’s no longer has the ability to stop himself from saying the first thing that comes to his mind…I mean most people if they’re upset might first think they hate someone…but usually that filter in their head will stop them from just blurting that out…his filter…it just doesn’t do what it should. I just hate it…today was allegedly supposed to be a good memory day too…so much for that.” She remarked another shaky sigh escaping her lips.
She swallowed the lump developing in the back of her throat before she spoke again not having it in her to hate how needy her voice sounded. “Can you talk to me about something different…anything? Something nice?”
She was surprised by the response she got. “Ya ever had shortbread? Scottish Shortbread?”
“Uh, I mean…I’ve had shortbread cookies…from the grocery store.” She admitted, a bit thrown off by the conversation choice, but she had requested that he talk about literally anything else other than her current situation.
She rolled her eyes, unable to stop the hint of a genuine smile from crossing her lips at his quick reply. “Nah, not that. That’s pure shite, Hen. Leave that grocery store prepackaged stuff alone. I’m talkin’ real Scottish shortbread.”
“I guess, I’ve never had it then. What’s so special about it?” She dared to ask the misery she felt a moment before lifting by the second.
Chibs didn’t waste a moment to reply. “It’s amazin’, one of my favorites. My ma used to make it the best…I can’ get hers round here of course. The trick is ya gotta have it fresh, with tea or milk on the side. I’m gettin’ ya some real shortbread. Ya gotta try it at leas’ once.”
She spoke, shaking her head the words falling from her lips. “Maybe you should take me to get some then. I apparently need to see what I’m missing.”
“Aye, ya askin’ me out on a date, Hen?” The response came so naturally a flirty tone entering his voice.
She smirked it not taking her long to answer. “I am…and I won’t even bribe you with car repairs.”
She felt as though the misery she’d felt just moments ago was long gone as Chibs managed to laugh at the response he fast to respond. “Aye, ya don’ gotta bribe me to take ya out, love.”
She shook her head ignoring the cruel voice in the back of her head that claimed she belonged locked up right alongside her brother if she was agreeing to another date.
She distinctly remembered the comment Gemma had made the day she’d given Y/N a ride home. It's never just one date.
It would seem indeed that it was not destined to be just one date.
—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Chibs sighed, his stomach churning as Tig gazed up at him as he passed by the bar in SAMCRO’s clubhouse. “You going to see Y/N again?”
Chibs let out a huff knowing that the cologne he’d put on had most likely given him away. He’d only worn it once afterall the last time he’d taken Y/N out. He was certain Juice must have blabbed his big mouth all about Chibs’ big date and the effort he’d put into his appearance for said date . “Aye, I am.”
“You’ve been talking to her a lot lately. Lots of phone calls.” Tig observed the comment making Chibs feel uneasy.
“Aye.” He kept the response short, shifting the box of shortbread he’d rode out to pick up from a bakery early this morning before they had a chance to sell out.
It wasn’t his mother’s shortbread but it was the closest thing he could find all the way out in California.
“So, you hitting that?” Tig dared to ask, Chibs narrowing his eyes at the question, his free hand that wasn’t holding the box of cookies forming a fist.
He pushed back the desire to throw a punch as he replied. “Ain’ none of yer business.”
Tig smirked, clearly spotting he’d maybe struck a nerve with his brother. Occasionally he could admit he liked pushing his brothers’ buttons…mostly out of boredom.
He’d taken notice of course, that Chibs had been skipping out on Friday night parties and had definitely been neglecting the croweaters.
There was only one possible thing keeping Chibs so distracted. He’d definitely noticed the little looks Chibs had sent SAMCRO’s new asset that night at the crematorium.
Tig didn’t particularly care to be honest. He was struck by a sense of curiosity though.
He had been around almost a decade before when Y/N had been a frequent visitor to the clubhouse. He could remember the mouthy girl who had been more than willing to drink and smoke a joint. He could also distinctly remember that she’d been less than interested in letting him in her pants….and he’d tried quite hard to charm his way into them.
He could admit it was a bit of a knock to the ego to think that Chibs might very well be traversing territory Tig had failed to explore. He had to admit he felt envious of the Scot.
Tig shook his head. “Just saying, brother. Be careful with that one. She knows a million ways to get rid of a body. I wouldn’t piss her off.”
“Ya ain’ got nothin to worry bout.” Chibs snapped thinking back to the tense conversation he’d had with Clay before that first date he’d had with Y/N.
Tig shook his head a sigh leaving him not helping but to prod a little more even if he knew his next statement was an asshole move. He could admit that a sense of jealousy was maybe pushing him to run his mouth. “I’m guessing little Miss. Death doesn’t know about your wife back in Belfast…pretty sure you’d already be in a casket somewhere if she did. Didn’t think she’d be cool with being a mistress. I mean, she was wild back in the day, tight as hell and a great set of tits from what I heard too, but she still had some moral backbone.”
Chibs moved forward, his fist partially raising but he didn’t have a chance to get far, Juice taking enough notice to step in between Chibs and Tig. Juice maneuvered Chibs away quick to speak. “Let’s take a walk man, come on.”
“Ya keep yer fuckin mouth shut bout her. Ya don’ know what yer talkin bout.” Chibs snapped sending a warning glare at Tig's direction as Juice pushed him away.
Chibs yanked from Juice’s attempts he glaring down at the younger man. “I don’ need a fuckin’ walk. Ya tell that prick if he ever mentions her body or calls her a mistress again I’ll fuckin’ bash his head in.”
Juice groaned as he watched Chibs storm off towards his bike. He rolled his eyes as Tig approached him, the man shrugging his shoulders apparently not minding the death threat. “Was it something I said?”
Juice shook his head as he watched Chibs ride off. He sent Tig a look he speaking. “Really?”
Tig shrugged, playing innocent. “I’m just looking out for him. She finds out about his wife, he’s dead meat. Not to mention, if he pisses her off real good then we lose our funeral home contact.”
Juice shook his head, not responding as he made his way back into the clubhouse. He had to hope that if Chibs continued whatever he had going on with Y/N that he explained his complex past and she didn’t murder him.
Even with as crude as Tig had been, Chibs most likely would be buried alive if he kept that tidbit of information from Y/N.
—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Y/N sighed as a firm knock sounded at her office door, cracking slightly Skeeter’s head barely peeking in.
The man spoke, his eyes rolling ever so slightly at the information he was about to share with his boss. “You have a gentleman caller.”
Chibs frowned, unable to see past Skeeter as Y/N let out a groan from behind the half closed door. “I can’t decide if that’s worse than calling him the outlaw biker. It sounds less panic inducing to anyone that might overhear it, but it makes me sound like I’m some sort of freaking Southern Belle.”
She paused before speaking again. “Well, let him in.”
Skeeter did as he was told though he looked as though he’d much rather deny Chibs entry. Chibs didn’t miss the stern look of disapproval as he passed by the mortician.
Y/N spoke, spotting that Skeeter was still lingering. “You can go, Skeet. I promise I’m fine all on my lonesome.”
Chibs didn’t miss the glare Skeeter sent his way before he shut the door behind him.
He took a deep breath trying to calm any rage that was still lingering around in his gut after his confrontation with Tig. He refused to let her see the enraged parts of him.
He studied her, the sight of her soothing him. She was dressed in another work outfit, another black dress similar to the one he’d seen her wear the first time he’d come to the funeral home.
He had to wonder how many black dresses she owned. He had a feeling it had to be quite a few.
She pushed back her chair standing up from her desk and rounded it as she made her way over to him.
She pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, the action soothing him further. She spoke, spotting the tension practically vibrating off him. ‘Are you okay? You seem…agitated.”
Chibs did his best to give her a smile though he knew it came out as more of a grimace. “Jus’ Tig bein a fuckin’ prick.”
She let out a small bitter laugh rolling her eyes at the comment. “I guess he hasn’t changed much in my time away.”
Chibs took a deep breath tempted to ask her if she’d ever been intimate with Tig, but he bit his tongue.
He had a feeling she’d not given Tig had only commented on what he’d heard about her.
Chibs silently reminded himself that he didn’t care what her past with SAMCRO was. She had said it herself. She was no longer a club hangaround.
A possessive little voice piped up in the back of Chibs’ head insisting she was his now. Another voice piped up that he’d meant what he’d said to Tig. He’d kill the man if he ever commented on her body ever again. He didn’t care if the man was his brother, he’d bash his face in.
He took a few more deep breaths trying to calm himself.
Another thing Tig had said had troubled Chibs; the mention of Fiona. It was something Chibs knew would have to come up sooner than later.
Chibs knew Tig was right about one thing…if he kept that part of his past hidden from Y/N she’d probably shove him in the ground. In fact, Chibs was sure that if he withheld this information from her then Y/N would bury him so deep that the devil himself would need a shovel to dig him back up again.
He took a deep breath holding out the box of shortbread he’d gotten; he was no longer as giddy about presenting it to her as he’d been moments before. “I got ya somethin.”
She took it from him, a soft laugh leaving her becoming distracted from his clearly tense mood. “Shortbread. I’m supposed to drink it with tea right, or milk?”
“Aye, whichever ya want. Try it tonigh’ and let me know what ya think.” Chibs replied, his strained mood fading by the second.
She placed the box on her desk giving him a soft smile. “You didn’t have to come all the way over here just to give me some cookies.”
“Aye, I wanted to…I was hopin’ I could take ya out fer lunch too.” Chibs insisted, having made up his mind on the way to the Funeral Home.
He had to come clean about his past. He had to open up and pray she didn’t hate his guts or assume he was attempting to make her into the other woman.
She gave him a soft smile nodding down to her clothing. “Do you mind if I change shoes? I don’t think heels are a smart idea on the back of a bike.”
He nodded his head trying his best to give her a smile and hide the anxiety beginning to bubble in his stomach. “Aye, heels are probably not a good idea, Hen. I’ll wait on ya.”
She pressed another kiss to his cheek, that warm feeling washing over him again soothing a bit more of his agitation and anxiety.
He watched her leave the room, taking a deep breath as he dropped down into one of the chairs across from her desk.
He stared around the office studying the multitude of items. He clasped his hands together spotting a thick binder sitting on a shelf behind her desk that was labeled casket catalog 2007-2008.
He prayed to any God that might be listening that she wouldn’t shove him in any of those caskets after he broke the news about the life he’d been banished from in Belfast.
Chibs tried to find something less distressing to focus on. His eyes caught a photo on the wall it lifting his spirits momentarily.
He barely recognized Y/N in the photo. She was so young, clearly barely a teenager. He could distinctly spot a pair of braces on her teeth and a t-shirt emblazoned with Charming’s nearest high school’s mascot. He guessed that perhaps it was a photo leftover from when the office had belonged to her father.
Another photo was framed beside it. Y/N was even younger in this one sat on the front porch of the Funeral Home with a little boy beside her. She looked quite miserable in the soft pink dress she was wearing judging by the clear scowl fixed into her little features. He felt his stomach turn realizing the boy sitting beside her had to be her older brother.
He sighed thinking back to the phone call they’d had the day before after she visited her brother, hoping he wasn’t about to give her another reason to cry.
He didn’t have long to focus on the fear as the office door opened the object of his adoration reentering the room, a pair of black converse on her feet and a dark coat over her dress.
She spoke nodding to him. “Okay, I’m ready when you are.”
He stood up taking her hand in his once again praying to anyone who might happen to be listening that he wasn’t about to lose the woman he’d just barely managed to start winning over.
—---------------------------------------------------
The taco stand was a bit of a surprise. Y/N didn’t think much of it though, deciding that she was just happy to have a second date with Chibs even if it was a little more spontaneous than she’d expected.
They sat outside on benches the weather thankfully not cool enough for the outdoor space to feel uncomfortable. They seemed to be the only patrons at this stand and she hoped that this wasn’t a sign of the quality of their meal.
Chibs himself was debating if the taco truck was the best plan. He’d decided that an outdoor space was probably best for the bombshell he was about to drop on her.
He sighed as she spoke, raising an eyebrow at him taking notice of the fact that he seemed distracted. He’d not even touched his food yet and had seemed dazed as he’d ordered. “Are you sure everything is okay? I mean, how bad did Tig piss you off?”
She cringed worrying that she was pushing it. She imagined it had something to do with the club. She wasn’t sure if they were at the level where Chibs was going to be that open with her about anything related to the club despite her partnership with SAMCRO as a provider of favors.
Chibs let out another sigh deciding he wouldn’t repeat exactly what Tig had said. He had a feeling she’d probably kill the man for commenting on her body in that crude of a manner especially in relation to her past. “He’s jus’ an arse sometimes. It’s jus…I got somthin to tell ya.”
She felt her stomach roll hating that statement. It sounded so ominous. “What’s going on?”
Chibs sighed, deciding to ease into this. “I know I ain’ told ya much bout my family.”
Y/N spoke her cheeks flushing the words falling from her. “I haven’t given you much of a chance. I mean…I kind of turned our first date into a trauma dumping session. I didn’t leave you much room to talk about your own family.”
Chibs spoke, shaking his head reaching out his hand pressing over hers. “It’s fine, Hen. I didn’ mind it.”
He took a deep breath speaking again the words falling out of his lips. “I have a daughter.”
She widened her eyes, not expecting that. She guessed it shouldn’t be too surprising though. He was in his forties. He had to have some life before her. “How old is she?”
“Thirteen…Kerrianne…her name is Kerrianne.” Chibs responded a small smile crossing her features.
“That’s a pretty name, I don’t think I’ve ever heard it before. What’s she like?” Y/N asked genuinely curious to know.
She was surprised she didn’t mind the concept of dating a guy with a kid. She’d never really been around children, but she liked them. She had never really put much thought into if she wanted children of her own. She found that she liked Chibs enough to accept that he was a parent and to accept whatever role she played in that if their relationship should progress to that point.
Chibs cringed the words falling from him. “I don’ know…I ain’ seen her since she was bout four.”
Y/N felt her stomach drop at this information. He was a deadbeat? She felt her stomach sour at the thought.
Chibs sighed, shaking his head, spotting the look on her face only able to imagine the thoughts running through her mind. He had a feeling none of them were positive. He spoke again the words sliding from his lips before he could stop them. “She lives in Belfast…with my wife.”
Y/N was certain if she had a drink in her hand she would have tossed it in his face. She glared at him, yanking her hand from his her voice harsh. “You’re fucking married? Are you serious?”
She scoffed getting up from the bench before he had a chance to register what was happening.
She spoke, snatching up her purse and her coat as she prepared herself to leave her temper rising by the second. “What am I then? Am I just some stateside fun? Was I meant to be the girl you fucked in the US while your wife and kid sit back in Ireland? I mean, I knew you SAMCRO guys were kind of dysfunctional when it came to relationships and monogamy but this really takes the cake on fucked up. I don’t know what you’ve heard about me from Jackson and all your little friends down at the clubhouse. I know I haven’t always been smart about the guys I’ve hooked up with in the past, but I have developed way more of a sense of self worth than I had almost a decade ago. I am no one’s fucking mistress. Have a nice life Chibs…actually, no, you have the life you deserve. You are such an asshole.”
Chibs scrambled up from the bench moving quick to follow her. He reached out taking her hand in his not shocked as she yanked it away her voice raising. “Don’t you dare touch me!”
Chibs moved fast moving in front of her placing his hands on her shoulder he fast to speak. “Just give me five minutes…Jus’ five minutes to explain.”
“Explain what? You’re a married deadbeat dad, I’m the other woman. End of story. Good riddance.” She snapped moving aside trying to move past him.
Chibs moved just as fast stepping in front of her. “There’s more to the story, lass. Jus’ please, hear me out. If ya still hate me after I tell ya the entire story, I’ll fuck off.”
She groaned tempted to tell him that there was not a story on this planet he could tell to explain away the bombshell he’d just dropped on her.
She gazed up at him, hating to admit that she noticed the longing in his eyes. There was a sense of desperation there that she didn’t like.
She let out a huff crossing her arms over her chest. “You have five minutes. If I sense even an ounce of bullshit, I’m leaving and not looking back.”
Chibs nodded his head nodding over to a nearby bench. “Can we sit?”
She scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Fine, but the time to go to the bench and sit deducts from the five minute timeline I set.”
He spoke as they sat he sighing. “Fiona an I are estranged. I ain’ seen her in close to a decade now. I ain’ even spoke to her on the phone.”
“But you haven’t divorced her and you don’t see your kid.” Y/N snapped not entirely impressed if this was his attempt to explain himself.
Chibs cringed fast to speak again. “It ain' an option… neither the divorce or seein my Kerrianne.”
He paused, spotting the look of annoyance on her features as she spoke. “Let me guess? Getting divorced is a huge Catholic no no? Is being a deadbeat dad just a passion project for you?”
Chibs let out a huff shaking his head. “I ain’ exactly practicin’ So, no’ entirely and I ain’t a deadbeat by choice.”
She glared at him her words harsh. “ Don’t you dare try to feed me that my ex is nuts and won’t let me see my kid bullshit. I have heard it from a guy before and I don’t believe the story.”
He spoke shaking his head. “This ain’t me being some arsehole da abandonin his kid. Fiona ain’t the one keepin me away.”
He paused, clearing his throat knowing he had to tell the entrie story, every painful detail. “I met Fiona when I was sixteen. I’d moved to Belfast with my ma an my sister Cait. We moved from one housin’ estate to another…we were poor…My da…he was a real prick…mean bastard who no one missed when he walked out…my ma worked herself to the bone to barely scrape by. I was angry, mad at the world. I was pissed at the government and establishment in general. Fiona…er family was involved in the cause. Third generation…True IRA.”
He paused not wanting to meet Y/N’s eyes as he explained this bit of information. He spoke again, a sigh leaving him. “She talked bout the cause…bout her family. Told me grand tales of the figh’ fer a free Ireland. I was entranced with her stories…entranced with her. By the time we were married I was fully involved in the cause.”
He took another deep breath taking a chance to peek over at Y/N not liking that a hint of fear had joined the rage in her eyes.
He spoke again hoping that even if she understood the history behind Fiona and him that the mention of his involvement with the cause wouldn’t destroy things anyhow. “There was this lad…an ol’ friend of Fiona’s…they were childhood friends. He knew her before I did…Jimmy O’Phalen. He loved her before I did…He hated me…hated that I won Fiona…hated that she loved me…hated my background. He claimed I couldn’t be loyal to the cause given my ancestry…I wasn’ Irish, so I wasn’t as dedicated…I didn’ pay him any mind. I kept on with the cause. Life went on. The years passed by. Fiona an I somehow survived all of our twenties intact..made it to our thirties.”
“Kerrianne…she was born and it was like my life…it got brighter. I loved bein’ her da. I saw it as a chance to be a better lad than my bastard of a da. I stopped bein’ so angry…I…Jimmy O’ called it a weakness…He rose up in the ranks of the cause…got himself into a pretty high spot on the food chain…He started sowing distrust among others involved…started sayin’ I was a loyalist to the crown…sayin I was not truly dedicated…and then when my Kerrianne was barely a year old…Jimmy O’ did this to me.” Chibs explained reaching up to slide along the scars embedded into the flesh along his cheeks.
He paused his throat growing tight still not wanting to meet Y/N’s eyes. He spoke again a shaky sigh leaving him. “I gotta nother scar, along my belly. He tried to gut me too…it was…I almost died…I los’ a lotta blood, lost consciousness. I think the face…the attack was a play on my birthplace…Glasgow…He…he changed his mind toward the end I guess, decided not to kill me. Decided to give me a chance to live. Had his crew drop me off at the front steps to a hospital. He excommunicated me from the cause.”
“Fiona…your daughter?” Y/N dared to ask amazed she found the words as she tried to absorb everything he’d told her thus far her mind going a million different directions all at once.
Chibs let out a shaky breath the words falling from his lips. “Jimmy O’ took em as his…Fer over a decade now…they’ve been with him. He took my wife an’ raised my little girl as his own. Told me if I ever tried to get em back he’d kill em.”
He shook his head a sigh leaving him. “I wished I’d died tha’ nigh’ fer a long time….i wished he’d just killed me instead of keeping me alive to torment me. I joined up with SAMBEL…Belfast Sons. I knew em from business with the cause. I was their firs’ prospect. They took care of me. I found my place in that world. I…I tried to watch my Kerrianne from a’far…Jimmy O’ let me fer a wee bit…guess he liked dangling her round me…tormenting me with seein’ her from far away…I lasted in SAMBEL fer a few years…but it jus’ it got so…it hur’ seein’ my sweet wee Kerrianne…not bein’ able to even go near her. The chance to patch over to SAMCRO came up an I took it. I wanted to escape.”
He dared to look over at Y/N as he spoke, explaining himself. “Divorcin’ Fiona ain’ an option. Jimmy O’ won’ even let us speak on the phone…I ain’ seen her since I left Belfast. Ya ain’ my mistress. Ya can’t be the other woman when the only reason I ain’ divorced is ‘cause I can’t even talk to my estranged wife to start a divorce.”
Y/N let out a shaky sigh, her mind and her heart feeling heavy. She let everything he’d just told her soak into her brain, her mind going a million different directions.
The rage she’d felt left her body making her feel exhausted. She felt as though she’d been hit by a mack truck. She felt so drained that all she wanted was to lie down and not move again for a long while.
Those pesky voices in the back of her mind that screamed that Chibs would lead her to ruin were so fast to speak up insisting that everything he’d just told her was the only evidence she needed to know that he’d lead her to destruction.
Her heart spoke up easily picking up on the pain in his voice as he recalled the story. She thought of him lying in a hospital recovering from the attack all alone wishing for death knowing he’d lost everything.
She thought of his reaction each time she’d kissed his cheek thus far, the look on his face that told her that no one had shown him that kind of softness. It hit her that she’d kissed a reminder of all that he’d lost.
She let the realization that he was still legally married roll through her brain debating his insistence that she was not his mistress.
She thought of his daughter and his wife, what their lives must be with the man who had harmed Chibs. She questioned why Fiona had not fought for him though she cursed herself for having such a thought. She didn’t know how she would react if it had been her…if she’d been a mother.
She felt her stomach turn, her mind flashing back to what he’d said about the True IRA. The thought frightened her.
She sighed knowing that she’d already realized that Chibs had most likely done horrible things in the past and would do horrible things in the future. She knew he’d never pretended not to be a criminal…at least to her.
She felt a voice in the back of her mind perk up pointing out that Chibs had not given her a reason to think he might harm her. If he was going to harm her he would have killed her that night in the cemetery when she was burying those cremains.
Yes, his past involvement with the cause definitely made her stomach turn and she had a feeling that SAMCRO was still involved given his mention of SAMBEL being involved with the True IRA.
A voice in the back of her head piped up that she wasn’t exactly innocent. She’d done some pretty heinous things for the club lately.
The realization hit her that she didn’t feel afraid of him even with the past misdeeds he may have done for the cause. Even with what he’d done…what he would do in the future for the Sons; she was shocked to find that she didn’t fear for her life.
Chibs felt as though he was the last person on this planet she expected might harm her. Filip Chibs Telford was no monster.
She thought of how sweet he’d been on that first date and how lovely he continued to be.
A monster wouldn’t hold her hand so gently while she spilled her heart about her brother and her past. A monster wouldn’t bring her shortbread. A monster would never look at her like she was a fine work of art.
Chibs dared to speak knowing he had to spill his heart as a last ditch effort to hopefully not lose her. “I ain’ been interested in a woman fer more than sex since I…since Fiona…I took advantage of all that came with the clubhouse.”
Y/N cringed decoding that he meant the croweaters.
Chibs spoke again, a sigh leaving him. “I let myself get swallowed up by life in the Sons...I didn’ want to feel…din’ want to let my heart get involved…Then I met ya. I didn’t expect ya…didn’ expect I’d like ya as much as I do. All I know is yer the firs’ woman I met in over a decade who I wan’ more than just sex with. I like bein’ with ya. I love talkin’ to ya. I think bout ya more often than not. I feel good with ya around. I’m havin a good time with ya and I want to see where it takes us. I don’t want to lose ya when I’ve jus’ barely gotten to have ya. I know I ain’ conventional…I may not be able to give ya the traditional path mos’ relationships take…I jus’ know that when I’m with ya…I don’ want get swallowed up by chaos to escape the misery. So, all I’m askin’ fer is the chance even if it ain’ conventional.”
Y/N let the words marinate in her mind. She picked up on what he said about wanting to be swallowed by chaos to escape feeling awful. Wasn’t that what had led her to hanging around SAMCRO almost a decade before?
She sighed at the realization that no, Chibs would not exactly be able to offer her the stereotypical relationship path. If he was still married there would be no white wedding in the future.
She furrowed her brow knowing she wasn’t exactly in the place in this relationship with him to even consider marriage. The concept of even thinking that far into the future this soon in a relationship that was barely even beginning to bloom was preposterous.
She glanced over at Chibs her heart telling her that she’d had fun with him. She didn’t want to sink into misery and isolation when he was around.
She recalled the thought she’d had that first date when she had to leave to attend to the deceased that had fallen into the care of her funeral home.
For the first time in her life she preferred the company of someone living and didn’t want to avoid life to tend to the dead.
Her heart screamed that she didn’t want to go back to isolating herself and spending all her time with the dead.
She wanted to live. Chibs made her want to live.
She reached out, making up her mind, her hand sliding over his as she spoke. “Do you promise me every single thing you just said to me is the absolute truth? I am not the other woman?”
“I swear to ya. You are not a mistress. I may be a bastard, but I ain’ goin to lie bout that.” Chibs insisted his heart daring to lift just the slightest.
Y/N sighed telling the fears in the back of her head to shut up, deciding to listen to what her heart screamed. “Okay. I’m here…I’m not going anywhere Filip.”
She paused, shaking her head as she spoke again. “I’ve never been the conventional type…I don’t expect traditional from you…at least not in the white picket fence stereotype ... .I do expect monogamy, Filip. If you want someone who’s fine sitting by while you get your dick wet somewhere else then I’m not the girl for you.”
“I am fine with that. I don’ want anyone else, Hen. I haven’ even considered it since we met.” He replied being completely honest with her, surprised to find that he didn’t think he’d miss the freedom of not being committed.
She paused, deciding to be honest. “Just promise me something Filip…Swear to me that I’m not a cheap replacement or a fill in for your estranged wife. I can’t be a substitute for what you want ... .I can’t just be the girl you bide your time with while you wait for what you really want to come back to you. I have already filled the role as a substitute pussy for a guy in the past. I refuse to do that again. I don’t want to be used to fill a void in a man. I’m worth more than that.”
Chibs furrowed his brow surprised by the anger that bubbled up in him at her admission about this man from her past.
He gave her hand a squeeze, the words leaving him without hesitation. “Yer not fillin any void fer me…ya ain’ a substitute fer Fiona. I ain’ bidin my time with ya. I want ya fully and completely fer exactly who ya are. Ya ain’ filling a spot fer anyone else.”
She let out a shaky breath, her heart insisting that this was all she needed to know.
She leaned in her lips close to his cheek as she spoke. “Is this okay?”
He widened his eyes as he realized what she was asking. He nodded his head quick to reply. “Yes, please.”
She pressed her lips to his cheek he surprised by the dampness gathering at the corners of his eyes.
The kiss remained lingering, Y/N reaching up to wipe a stray tear from his face as she finally pulled back.
She spoke her voice soft, finding some humor in the moment. “Okay, next date no trauma. We aren’t allowed to cry on the third date.”
Chibs let the laugh leave him, he nodding his head agreeing wholeheartedly.
He wrapped an arm around her waist not helping but to tease her the horrible mood he’d been in all afternoon lifting. “So, I’m gettin a third date?”
She leaned into his embrace a small laugh leaving her. “So long as you promise we don’t cry.”
“Aye no tears from me.” He insisted, squeezing her all the tighter.
She relaxed against him, her eyes closing her body feeling lighter than it had felt in so long.
She knew this was far from conventional but she wasn’t lying. She’d never been a conventional girl.
Chapters: Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three
Warnings: Language might be the only one in this chapter? Very fluffy
Description: After babysitting Eliza and baby Abbot, Jack doesn't exactly sleep with the reader. At Eliza's ice skating recital, the reader decides to help Jack learn how to skate again after losing his foot.
--
Robby leaned against the high counter of the desk hub, pulling his glasses out to read a message on his phone. His wife approached him, bumping him with an elbow when she copied his lean against the desk hub.
“I know something you don’t know.” She greeted in a sing-songy voice.
Without looking up, trying to focus his phone screen through his glasses, Robby answered, “I already know about the patient in Psych One. Had a potato peeler shoved up his ass. Guess who had to remove it.”
She tilted her head, genuinely concerned. “What?”
Robby’s eyes flicked up over his glasses, realizing that was not the gossip she knew. “The patient in Psych One?” He repeated.
She shook her head. “That’s not what I was talking about.” She replied, but then giggled, wrapping an arm around his bicep. “Sorry you had to do that.”
He shrugged. “Not even in the top ten items I’ve pulled out of someone’s ass.” He mumbled before looking at his phone again, holding it an elderly distance away from his face. “What do you know?”
His wife grinned devilishly, pushing his phone away so that she had his full attention. Robby smiled slightly at the excitement in her eyes. “She came to work today in his scrubs.” She revealed.
“Wait, wait…how do you know they’re his?” Robby was incredibly invested now.
“I saw the shirt tag on the scrub tub.” She continued, her smile somehow widening even more. “J Dot Abbot.”
—
Only two more days of working the day shift. That’s the record you kept on loop in your brain—only two more days of annoyingly simple cases that should have gone to urgent care. At least at night, the urgent care centers were closed, and patients had no other choice but to land in the Pitt. But more importantly, only two more shifts until you worked with Jack again.
The words “boyfriend” and “girlfriend” had not been uttered, but the connection was intensely deep. When you went home with him after babysitting Eliza and baby Abbot a couple of weeks ago, you thought the trajectory to his bedroom was obvious. The hot kisses against your car door seemed fictional now that he didn’t sleep with you that night. All the signs pointed to his lap, but you ended up in his arms instead, separated by layers of clothes. He hadn’t even removed his prosthesis. You couldn’t complain too much because you woke the next morning, more rested than you had been in years, to the smell of bacon, banana pancakes, and coffee looming from the kitchen.
His chrome ringlets were still holding onto water from the shower, glistening in the early morning sunlight that shone through the window. His massive, flexed forearms looked more delicious than the pancake mix he was stirring. You were met with the warmest, dimple-filled smile as you padded into the kitchen.
“I didn’t want to wake you.” He greeted, voice slow as honey.
You stepped closer, pulling at the sleeve of your lavender sweatshirt from the day before. “I’ve gotta go get my scrubs for work.” You said sheepishly.
Jack pointed to the black scrubs lying on the counter, folded neatly with military precision. “They’re not Figs, but they get the job done.” He noted.
You walked to the counter, pulling the shirt off the top, letting it unfold. A laugh escaped your lungs. “Jack, these are yours.” You scoffed.
“I know.”
A warmth crawled across your cheeks and slithered down your chest. “All this so I can stay for breakfast?” You teased, making your way over to him again.
“Mmhmm. Go on, get changed. I’ll be done here in a minute.” He finished his order with a kiss on your forehead.
That morning had ended with sticky, syrupy kisses before he sent you off to work with a protein bar and an energy drink. When you arrived in the baggier-than-usual black scrubs that smelled perfectly of Jack, sandalwood and citrus, Robby’s wife clocked it immediately. She gave you a nudge on the arm when you stood next to her in front of the patient board.
“Thanks for watching the kids. Eliza told me all about it this morning.” She said.
You smiled, looking at her for a brief second, and you were met with the smuggest, all-knowing smirk. You couldn’t hold back the giggle in your chest. “Nothing happened.” You defended, and it wasn’t a complete lie.
She leaned closer, arms crossed. “Well, something happened because unless your washing machine can magically make clothes grow…” She gestured to your oversized scrubs. “Those are not yours.”
The blush on your cheeks blew your cover. “Fine. I slept over with him…but we did not sleep with each other.” You clarified.
Because of your current schedule, you only saw Jack at shift change if he wasn’t elbows deep in a patient before you got called to another patient’s room. He wouldn’t kiss you or even touch you, but he had a coffee waiting for you in your locker with a fluorescent sticky note that read “Good luck today -J” every single morning. And every morning, you would tape the sticky note to the inside of your locker, creating a colorful collage that began to rival the betting wall. You would prance out of the lounge, warm coffee in your hands, and sit at your desk. And if time allowed, Jack would sit at the computer next to you, charting, and let his knee just barely brush against yours. No words. But you could hear it in the silence.
As you shucked off your gloves after handling your last patient of the day, you heard a tiny voice screech your name, and something clung to your leg. You looked down to see Eliza, hair pulled back into a sleek bun, in a sparkly dress that matched the hot pink cast encasing her arm.
“Oh, where did you come from?” You asked as you hauled the giggling girl into your arms.
“Are you coming to my recital?” She asked, wrapping her arms around your neck.
Before you could answer, you heard hurried, uneven footsteps approach from behind you. “Eliza, do not run away from me like that again.” You heard your soldier’s gravelly voice order. “Do you understand me, young lady?”
You turned around to see Jack, holding baby Abbot in his arms, approaching with an aggravated gait and piercing gaze. Eliza cowered in shame into your shoulder. “Yes, sir. I’m sorry.” She mumbled, giving him the biggest, brownest, puppy dog eyes you had ever seen.
And Jack was a sucker for that little girl. The frustration immediately washed from his face, and he placed a gentle hand on her back. “It’s okay, princess. You just need to hold an adult’s hand when you’re here, okay?” He soothed.
Eliza nodded in innocent understanding. “Okay.” She answered.
Jack shook his head but smiled nonetheless. Finally, he focused on you, eyes softening when they met yours. “Hi.” He greeted with a sigh.
You nudged your shoulder against his, itching for a sliver of physical contact. “Hey.” You replied. “Dropping off the kids?”
Jack shifted baby Abbot in his arms so that you could see his chubby little face. You ran a gentle finger against his cheek, and the baby smiled. “Yeah. Eliza has an ice skating recital tonight, so we’re gonna watch the ice princess do her thing.” He answered, poking at Eliza’s side, illiciting a giggle from her. “You coming?” He asked you.
Even though you only hesitated for just a second, Eliza immediately piped up, holding your face in her tiny hands. “Please come see me skate!” She begged with those same convincing eyes she had flashed at Jack just moments ago. Damn, Robinavitches can get whatever they want with those eyes.
“Of course, wouldn’t miss it for the world.” You assured her.
Eliza cheered in excitement, hugging your neck tightly. You laughed and squeezed her closer. It felt so natural now, holding her like this, like she was your family. Baby Abbot began to kick his legs and babble with a gummy smile as he looked behind you and Jack.
“Hey, little man.” Robby’s uncharacteristically, overly-cheerful voice came from behind you.
“Daddy!” Eliza immediately squirmed out of your arms, reaching for her father.
Robby carefully took her into his arms, pressing a squishy kiss against her cheek. “Hey, big girl.” He greeted her before pulling her away slightly to look her in the eyes. “I heard Uncle Jack get on to you. What happened?”
He looked at Jack, waiting for an answer, but Jack only gestured to Eliza, letting her explain. Eliza looked down, an ashamed pout on her face. “I ran away from him so I could hug her.” She said, pointing towards you at the end.
Robby nodded, squeezing her a little tighter at the thought of her being snatched up by some deranged patient. “You know the rules, Eliza. If you come to see Mommy and Daddy at work, you have to stay with a grown-up. No running away.” He lectured. “It’s to keep you safe, okay?”
The little girl nodded, moving her hands to play with his beard. “Yes, sir.” She replied, still ashamed, but with an adorable respectfulness.
And just like Jack, he was no match for her sweetness. He pressed his forehead against hers. “Are you ready to skate?” He asked with a playful seriousness.
Eliza grinned and pulled at the mesh sleeve of her skater dress. “Yes!” She affirmed. “Is Nana coming to watch?” She asked, looking around for the blond charge nurse.
Robby nodded. “Yes, she’s going to meet us there. She had to leave a little early, but you’ll see her when we get to the rink.” He assured.
The little girl smiled big, excited that her whole family would be there to see her figure skating. Robby’s wife approached your huddle, greeting both of her babies with a kiss on the cheek. Jack, almost reluctantly, handed over baby Abbot to his mother.
“Are we ready to go?” She asked, resting her forehead on baby Abbot’s head, absorbing his cuteness after a rough shift.
Robby looked around, searching for a certain attending holding his signature iced coffee. “I need to talk to Shen before shift change. You might need to head on without me so she isn’t late for warm up.” He answered.
His wife nodded. “Okay, I can take the truck. Gonna ride with Jack?”
Jack gave a nonchalant thumbs up, affirming the plan. Robby nodded before focusing his attention on Eliza. “Daddy has to work a little bit longer. You’re gonna go ahead with Mommy and-”
“No!” Eliza exclaimed, face scrunching with frustration.
It caught everyone off guard. It was rare for the angelic child to have any kind of outburst. Robby’s brow furrowed. “Eliza.” He said sternly.
“No, Daddy!” Her big, brown eyes began to well up with tears. “You said that last time, and you didn’t come watch me skate.”
There was an uncomfortable silence amongst all of you, but everyone else seemed to know a backstory that you didn’t. Robby’s wife stepped forward, one arm holding up baby Abbot, and the other moving to rub soothing circles on Eliza’s back. “Sweetheart, Daddy is going to watch you skate. Last time was different.”
Eliza’s bottom lip quivered as she grabbed her dad’s face, fingers nestling in his beard. “Pinky promise?” She begged.
Robby took in a shaky breath, something unusual in his eyes. Oh…those were tears. Not heavy enough to fall, but just enough to reflect light. He wrapped his large pinky around the tiny one that settled on his face. “Pinky promise.” He whispered.
Reluctantly, he let go of his daughter, so she could walk with his wife to the car. Jack noticed Robby’s distress and, for the first time in public, grabbed your hand in his.
“Why don’t you ride with them? I’ll make sure Robby gets there.” He mumbled, only low enough for your group to hear.
You nodded, offering a small smile. “Okay.” You squeezed his hand once before heading off with Robby’s wife and the kids.
–
You sat in the bleachers next to Robby’s wife. She had wrapped baby Abbot snugly in a warm blanket so he wouldn’t get cold from the chilly indoor air. Eliza moved around the ice with her friends, more advanced than the other five-year-olds.
“I’m sorry about that.” Robby’s wife finally said.
You raised your eyebrows in confusion. “For what?”
“For Eliza’s outburst back at the Pitt.” She elaborated.
You shrugged, offering a reassuring smile. “Kids will be kids.”
She sighed, shaking her head as she seemed to relive a painful moment. “A few months ago, right when Abbot was born, she had a competition. Jack was watching the baby for us, so Robby and I could both come to the rink. But right as we were leaving, five MVC patients came in. So I took Eliza, and Robby had to stay behind and help Shen.” She explained, shifting the baby boy in her arms so that he could rest comfortably as his eyelids began to droop. “It was the first time he missed any competition or recital.”
You winced, knowing there was no way to explain that situation to a young child. “I’m assuming she didn't take it well?” You added.
Robby’s wife huffed a sarcastic laugh. “You would be correct. She cried and cried, even when he got home. Eventually, she tired herself out, but it was the first time she wouldn’t let him put her to bed.” She continued, frowning again as she said, “Robby cried for an hour that night.”
You felt your heart ache at the thought of one of your mentors crying over his little girl. “I know that was hard for him. He loves her so much.” You replied.
She nodded and smiled slightly. “He’s the best dad. He’s always talking about how the kids and I are his second chance at life. How we brought the light back into him…” Her smile grew warmly as she reminisced on her marriage and family.
You couldn’t help but smile with her. Footsteps approaching behind you distracted you from your conversation. Robby and Jack walked down the stairs of the bleachers, arms linked to give Jack extra balance. They each held a bouquet of roses, undoubtedly for Eliza after the recital. A quiet “Thanks, brother” was all you heard before the men settled on either side of the two of you. Robby leaned in to kiss his wife, mumbling something that you couldn’t quite decipher.
Meanwhile, Jack bumped his shoulder against yours, gaining your focus. “You ready to be on night shift again?” He asked.
You pretended to hesitate. “I mean, I guess…” You trailed off, looking away from his gorgeous stare.
He chuckled and looked out at the ice rink. “Ouch.”
Cautiously, you grasped the interior hook of his elbow, placing your other hand on his bicep, and leaned close. “Ready to be with the night shift people again.”
He tilted his head lower to rest on yours, his arm flexing under your grasp. “The people?” He questioned. “Like all of them…or some of them…or just one of them…?”
You giggled at his antics, lightly squeezing his bicep. “Just one of them.” You confirmed.
Music began to play overhead, and all of the little ice skaters lined up. Eliza looked out into the bleachers amongst the other parents, searching for her family. The four of you clocked it, and you all waved at her. Even from a distance, you could see her excited grin as she waved back. Someone sat behind you on the bleachers, patting Jack’s shoulder.
“You know, you need to whip your night shift into shape.” Dana’s voice grumbled. “I left an hour late because of them.”
Jack turned around, an offended look on his face. “My night shift? It’s Robby’s department.” He defended.
Robby peeked his head up at the sound of his name being brought into an argument. “Not my monkeys, not my circus.” He retorted.
Jack huffed. “Um, it absolutely is your circus. You’re the fucking ringleader.”
“Yeah, but not night shift. They’re another breed.” Robby replied, eyes focused on his daughter.
Dana raised an eyebrow at Jack, waiting for his next response. “Whatcha gotta say about that, Lieutenant Colonel?” She taunted.
Jack waved her off. “Can you leave me alone? I’m trying to watch my niece.” He complained.
You looked up to him. “The recital hasn’t started yet, they’re just doing warm-up drills.” You countered.
His bewildered eyes flicked to you. “And it’s cute.”
Dana chuckled before waving at baby Abbot, who giggled at her. “Hey there, sweet boy.” She greeted.
The baby reached for her, and Robby’s wife willingly exchanged him to Dana’s arms so she could record the recital on her phone. You heard Dana mumble something about “Maybe we’ll just rename you Daniel,” as the lights in the bleachers dimmed, and the rink illuminated the tiny dancers in their glittery outfits.
–
The music ended, and the audience cheered for their kids. The little skaters made their way off the ice, and you all met Eliza at the bottom of the bleachers. She carefully wobbled over to her parents’ embrace. Robby snatched her up so they could kiss her cheeks.
“You did so good, baby girl!” His wife praised.
She giggled and covered her face. “Thank you, Mommy.” She answered politely.
Robby lifted the bouquet of light pink roses that he had concealed behind his back. “These are for you.” He announced with the chivalry of a prince.
Eliza’s eyes widened. “Flowers!” She exclaimed. “I love flowers!”
Jack smiled and held up his bouquet of white roses to her. “Then I guess you’ll like these, too.” He suggested.
The little girl could not fathom that she had so many flowers. The bouquets in her little arms nearly took up her whole body.
“What do you say?” Robby’s wife cued.
Eliza wrapped her arms around the necks of both men, squeezing them in until the sides of their heads bumped together. “Thank you, Daddy and Uncle Jack!”
They both pressed a kiss to the side of her head. Your heart fluttered at the sight of Jack caring so deeply for his niece. Dana bounced baby Abbot in her arms and reached for her phone.
“Okay, we need a family picture.” She announced.
Robby’s wife reached for baby Abbot. She sat him up in her arms and nestled into Robby’s embrace, squishing their family together. Dana took several pictures while you and Jack made silly faces behind her to make the baby laugh, inevitably making Eliza giggle, too.
“We need a big family picture!” The little girl exclaimed.
You absentmindedly reached for Dana’s phone to take a picture of all of them. Robby stopped her by saying, “What are you doing? You’re in the picture.”
Oh. You were in the family now. Jack smiled, holding his arm out for you to curl into for the picture. You handed the phone to another parent and wrapped your arm around Jack, leaning in close. After the picture, he pressed the most subtle kiss to your temple, and your heart nearly jumped out of your chest.
“Can we skate now?” Eliza asked her parents.
Robby’s wife smiled. “Yeah, let me get our skates out of Daddy’s truck, okay?”
You looked to them, a little confused. Jack caught your expression. “They let the families free skate with their kids after the recital.” He explained.
You nodded slowly before looking up at him again. “Are you gonna skate?”
There was a hint of sadness in his gold-flecked eyes that hit you in the chest. “I don’t skate anymore.” He answered, wiggling his right foot.
Robby shifted Eliza in his arms so that she sat on the side of his hip. “It’s a shame. Me and Jack used to play in a pick-up hockey league when we were young.” He revealed.
Your eyes widened, mouth dropping in shock. “Excuse me?”
Jack chuckled and crossed his arms. “We are still young.” He protested.
Dana scoffed and rolled her eyes. “God will strike you down for lying.” She warned. “They used to come in to work with bloody noses and sprained fingers. They’re lucky they worked in a trauma center.”
The old men waved her off but still laughed. Robby’s wife returned with a duffel bag with two pairs of skates. You sat on the bleachers with Jack as they pulled the skates on and set off on the ice with their daughter holding each of their hands. Dana sat behind you both a few rows up, cradling baby Abbot as he slept in his warm blanket.
You leaned your head on Jack’s shoulder as you watched Robby expertly move across the ice. “Do you miss it?” You finally asked.
Jack looked down at you, trying to read your expression. “Miss what?” He questioned.
“Skating?” You clarified.
The silence that followed seemed never-ending. You worried that you might have struck a nerve, but then he quietly answered, “Yeah, I do.”
You smiled slightly. “Then, why don’t we go out there?”
He let out a sigh, shaking his head. “I don’t know…”
“Why? Are you scared?” You taunted with a smirk, thinking if you playfully challenged him, he might cave.
Jack’s eyes met yours, and boy, you could see that vulnerability again. “Yes.” His answer was short and quick.
You smiled reassuringly. “What’s your skate size?”
“14.”
“Oh.” Your eyes widened slightly, not expecting that large of a number. “Well, you know what they say.” You said with a wink.
Jack rolled his eyes but chuckled at you as you pranced away to the skate rental booth. You were going to be the death of him.
–
You stepped onto the ice, ankles stabilizing as the traction under your feet changed. The ice wasn’t fresh, but you had no issue gliding a couple of feet. You carefully turned around to help Jack. But he waited at the entrance, stricken with fear. His eyes were blown wider than usual, and his chest moved quickly. He looked like he was about to jump out of a plane and not step onto an ice rink.
A couple of steps, and you were right in front of him. Your hands reached out to grab his with a grounding firmness. “I’ll be right beside you the whole time.” You promised.
He only nodded. He shifted in the skates uncomfortably, like he had every intention to take a step forward, but his feet still didn’t move. His grip on your hands tightened so much that they began to shake.
“Jack?” You whispered.
He didn’t look at you. Only stared at the ice before him like it was a lava floor. “Hmm?”
You decided to take a trick out of his book. You moved your head until his eyes had no choice but to meet yours. Seeking out the contact. His whiskey eyes were nearly black from dilation. The fear was truly crippling him. “I’ve got you, baby.” Your voice was powerfully gentle.
Baby. You called him baby. The first term of endearment between each other. The word left your lips so naturally, like you had called him baby a thousand times already. It was enough to ground him. It was enough to move his left foot forward, letting the blade touch the ice.
You turned your ankles in to stabilize yourself on the ice so you could wrap your arm around his waist. His hands moved to your shoulders, grabbing painfully tight, but you didn’t care.
“You’re doing so good, Jack.” You sang sweetly.
The softness in your voice was the same one you spoke to Eliza with, but he didn’t feel patronized. He felt stronger and affirmed by the way you said his name. He swallowed hard when he began to move his right foot up to the ice.
“There you go.” The praise continued to fall from your lips.
Finally, the blade hit the ice. The feeling was so foreign to him. There were no sensors in his foot to feel the slickness of the ice. He had to predict it from halfway up his shin. Since he was a child, he could skate on ice better than he could run, and he was a fucking track star. After losing his right foot, he hadn’t dared to get on the ice again. Not because he couldn’t. He had learned to walk and run again with enough physical therapy. But he was afraid that he couldn’t. The confirmation that he couldn’t do something was terrifying.
Jack took the smallest step forward with his right foot, studying the way his balance reacted to the ice. You patiently waited as he loosened the painful grip on your shoulders, moving his hands down to your forearms.
Slowly, you skated backwards, pulling him with you. His feet moved cautiously, and his breathing began to deepen with confidence.
“That’s it. You’re doing it.” You said, not raising your voice enough to draw attention, but enough to make him look up.
The beaming smile on your face could have melted the entire rink. Jack knew in that moment that he had never been looked at with such pride and love in his life. Your eyes told him that he had hung the stars, and he believed it. A smile tugged at his lips, daring to share in your happiness.
The happiness only lasted for a few more feet and cautious feet shuffling. His skate caught in a groove that yours had managed to avoid. The fall happened so fast, but you were ready to catch him in your arms and drop to the ice, undoubtedly hitting your head. But that wasn’t what happened. You never hit the ice. Your entire body was cushioned by his. In that split second, your soldier had changed the trajectory of your fall, taking your place of hitting the ice.
“Fuck, I’m so sorry.” Was the first thing you heard from him, his voice breaking. “Are you okay, are you hurt?”
You sat up quickly to see him below you, fighting back the pain that had to be wracking through his body. You pulled him to sit up, grabbing his face in your hands.
“Jack, I’m fine. Are you okay?” You asked, scanning his body for any dislocated or broken limbs.
Before he could answer, the smallest “Uncle Jack!” rang from across the rink. You both looked up to see Eliza scurrying over. Knowing she was moving too fast and couldn’t stop herself without falling, you caught her in your arms.
“Uncle Jack, are you okay?” She asked, the worry palpable in her question.
Jack faked a smile, but you could see him cracking behind it. “I’m okay, princess.” He confirmed. “Just fell down.”
Eliza threw her arms around his neck, and for the first time that you had seen, he didn’t relax or let go of his troubles. He numbly hugged his niece, eyes devoid of the usual joy she could impart.
Robby quickly approached, kicking up a wave of shaved ice as he halted next to you. “You alright, brother?” He asked as he knelt down.
Jack continued holding Eliza, hoping that eventually the pain would numb if he did. “I knew this wasn’t a good idea. I’m not ready.” He said, looking up at Robby.
While the comment was clearly about ice skating to your ears, Robby knew its double meaning. Just as he was about to speak, your voice cut through. “Jack. You have to keep trying.”
Jack shook his head, letting go of Eliza. He began to struggle, wanting to stand up, but the skates kept slipping as he tried to get a grip. “I don’t think I can do this.”
You put a settling hand on his shoulder, letting it drag to his sharp jaw, forcing eye contact again. “Well, I know you can.” You reinforced.
This time, Jack’s eyes were glassy. The threat of tears loomed off the distance in the storm in his eyes. Your thumb brushed his cheek, ready to fight back against anything that fell.
Eliza moved over to Robby, letting him place a protective hand to stabilize her. “It’s okay, Uncle Jack. I fall down all the time, but Daddy says ‘Suck it up, buttercup.’” She imparted her wisdom.
The tension broke. Everyone burst into laughter at the little girl’s innocent pep talk. Robby pulled his daughter tightly into his arms, shoulders still shaking with chuckles, and kissed her forehead. “That’s right, sweetheart.” He said.
When you could see clearly again after recovering from laughter, you looked at Jack. He lost the battle to tears, letting them fall freely as he smiled. With the sleeve of your underscrub shirt, you wiped them away before Eliza could see them and worry further.
“You have your own army around you, Jack. We’re with you every step of the way.” You assured him.
Jack took a much-needed deep breath and reached to grasp your hand resting on his jaw. He looked up to Robby, who smiled and gave him a playful salute. He never imagined that he would find himself uttering these words as his grown ass age, but he finally said, “Okay. I can try again.” His voice was stronger now, the gravel back in his words.
You and Robby helped him stand to his feet on either side of him. With one arm thrown around each of your shoulders, he stabilized on the ice, testing the pressure on his right foot. Eliza danced ahead, doing her little twirls showcased in her recital.
“Eliza, you don’t have to show off.” Jack called out to her. “Let Uncle Jack get his sea legs back.”
The little girl giggled as she continued to prance on the ice. Carefully, you and Robby moved to help Jack adjust to how his body balanced on the ice. Tiny steps, shuffling forward, left foot always moving more confidently than the right.
“You’re gonna be skating circles around me again pretty soon, brother.” Robby said, and it drew a laugh from Jack.
“I’ll have to pull my hockey stick out of the attic. Gotta teach Abbot how play since he doesn’t have anyone else to teach him.” He replied.
Robby chuckled and held back the urge to shove him. “You’re forgetting that I am the only thing between safety and falling back on your ass right now.” He teased.
The old men laughed, but not like usual. Like they were boys again, fresh out of medical school, having fun before they had split for different residency programs. Just like old times. As if on cue, tiny screams could be heard from the bleachers outside the rink. Robby’s wife was bouncing baby Abbot in her arms, trying to soothe him, with Dana at her side. She looked out to the ice desperately, and Robby let out a sigh. He looked at you, brow furrowed with conflict.
“I need to go help her. You got him?” He asked.
The look in his eyes transcended the simple question. Asking not if you could keep him from falling, but if you could care for him. If you could support him more than just on the ice rink. If you could handle him. You nodded, wrapping your arm tighter around Jack’s waist. “I’ve got him.” You affirmed, a small nod to let him know that you read past the question.
Robby smiled slightly and let go of Jack. “Alright, brother. Stay with her, alright?” He said before quickly moving off the rink to tend to his family, Eliza following behind him.
After a few moments of shuffling carefully, never fully picking your skates off the ice, you spoke up. “I’m sorry for pushing you to do this. You weren’t comfortable.” You apologized.
Jack stopped his movements, pulling you back to him when you glided a couple of inches ahead. “I needed this.” He replied, squeezing your hand tightly. He led your hand to his chest, then wrapped his arms around your waist. “I need you.” He added.
His breath was hot on your cheeks, warming from the cold air that surrounded you. You rubbed small circles on his chest, able to trace the muscles that hid beneath his shirt. “Need me how?” You asked.
A smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “In every sense of the word.” He leaned closer, your noses brushing. “I need you.” He repeated.
His lips captured yours in a tender kiss, and he pulled your body as close as it could get to his, threatening to combine skin cells together. One hand trailed to his jaw, massaging the muscles there as he brushed his tongue against your lips. Fortunately, you were snapped back to reality and reminded of your public location because a shriek from the bleachers rang through the rink:
“Mommy! Daddy! They’re kissing just like you said!”
—
In the car on the way home, Robby and his wife whispered quietly as he drove, careful not to wake the exhausted kids in the backseat.
“He’s in love with her.” He finally suggested.
His wife looked at him, an eyebrow raised. “How do you know?” She asked.
Robby smiled and squeezed her hand he held across the console. “Because he’s looking at her the way I look at you.”
She smiled bashfully and shook her head. “Be serious.”
“I am. Jack never even looked at his first wife that way. There’s a connection between them that’s just…different. I saw it tonight with my own eyes.” He explained, twirling the wedding and engagement ring on her finger.
“They’re taking it slow. Much slower than we did.” She teased.
Robby chuckled, bringing her hand to his lips. “It’s hard to take it slow with you. With that laugh. That smile. That body…” He trailed his kisses up her forearm, still managing to watch the road.
“Robby, stop it.” His wife demanded, but she didn’t really mean it.
“I think Abbot wants to be a big brother.”
“Michael!”
--
A/N: Thank y'all for reading! I don't know why but I just have this headcanon where Robby and Jack used to play pick-up hockey before his accident. Thank you all for reading! Chapter 4 will be a veryyy spicy one!
some of my favorite shawn hatosy tweets about his wife and why i refuse to settle for any less
my heart
I.R.I.S // Jake Seresin
Summary: When Jake Deadman Seresin spilled some drinks on you at the Hard Deck, the last thing he thought would come of that would be an entanglement that could ruin his entire career.
Warnings: Age Gap. Jake Seresin x Younger!Mitchell Reader. Smut! (18+ Content) Bradley Bradshaw x Platonic!Mitchell reader.
Chapter One: Hangman Head // Jake gets a blowie in the car park after he spills his beer on you, only to find out he’s your TopGun Instructor.
Chapter Two: Locker Room Meltdown // Jake has an existential crisis in the men’s locker room.
Chapter Three: Shower Sex // You and Jake come to an agreement that ends up with you both caving and getting into more trouble in a spare shower stall.
Chapter Four: Backyard Brodown Barbecue // After being lured into your bedroom to receive some of the best head of his life. Jake is subjected to your mischievous ways around your dad and uncles.
Jake Gets Distracted
Chapter Five: Premeditated Murder // You send Jake a risque picture of yourself while he is sitting in the Rec room with your dad.
Chapter Six: hiding In Plain Sight // After a confrontation turned sour which turned into you giving Hangman head under your dads desk, you overhear something you probably shouldn’t.
Pre Flight fight
Chapter Seven: H_ngm_n’s Sleep T // Mav goes to investigate why you haven’t gotten out of bed on a morning you have to be on base at 8am. Only to discover you’re wearing a certain someone’s shirt.
Chapter Eight: Lunchtime Lovers // When Jake finds out you quit the TopGun program, he goes to your house—only then does he realise he forgot his lunch.
Are Iris & Deadman exclusive?
Chapter Nine: The Mitchell Effect // You and Jake make things a little more official and Jake confirms his suspicions. He’s addicted the the thrill of being found out.
Chapter Ten: Snowballing // People are finding out left and right about your relationship with Jake and it all comes to a head when Phoenix gets wind of the situation.
Chapter Eleven: Implosion // Things take a turn for the worst when Rebound sees you lock lips with Lieutenant Commander Seresin right before a training session.
Reposting from my deleted account.
Warnings: Domestic violence (physical and verbal abuse), cursing
“Who used up all the fucking gas?!”
You and JJ were sitting at the kitchen table, eating dinner you made yourselves from the leftovers you could find, when you heard your father slam the car door and yell. He was mad. And probably drunk. Your and JJ’s eyes widened as you looked at each other. JJ then scrunched his eyes closed.
“Fuck. I forgot to fill it up.” He cursed.
“Shit JJ” You sympathized.
Keep reading
(formerly @𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢-𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦-𝐢𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬)
(𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭) - request something :)
𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐲 𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
Summary: You and Bradley had a complicated relationship as siblings. He walked out of your life when he turned 18 and never looked back. What happens when your teams are forced to work together? Worse (for him, at least), Jake has taken a serious interest in you.
Pairing(s): Jake "Hangman" Seresin x F! Bradshaw! reader
Warning(s): inaccurate description of military/marine, language, alcohol
Part 1: Braidy (y/n) Bradshaw
You weren't a violent person. You consider yourself a lover, not a fighter. If your mom taught you anything, it's that violence is not the solution to your problems.
However, when it came to your best friend, Jensen Kay, you were willing to forgo everything your mom taught you. The shit-eating smirk he was sending you made everything in your body heat up.
"You wanna admit that I was right, (y/n)?" You scoffed in response before turning your back to him. His bubbly laugh echoed from behind you as your face started to turn red. The woman behind the counter giggled at the pair of you before she took the cup from your hand.
"I can make you a different drink, ma'am. Matcha isn't for everyone. Is an iced coffee drink ok?," she asked as you mumbled thanks and moved to the pick up area with Jensen following behind you.
"She's right, (y/n). Matcha isn't for everyone. Don't take it to heart that you didn't like it," Jensen teased.
"Up your ass, Jen." The taller man smiled at your response before taking a sip of his matcha latte. His eyes wandered around the cafe before winking at a pair of women ogling him from a table. They giggled once more before turning away as you turned to look at them.
"You're killing my game," Jensen told you as you rolled your eyes. Your best friend was well known throughout the marine raiders as a womanizer. Maybe that's why you two were such a good pair. You weren't against casual hookups, you indulged every now and then, but you didn't do it as frequently as Jensen. Your career was more important to you which meant you didn't have much free time for relationships and such. Besides, it's not like you had much of a life outside of the raiders.
Your parents were long gone and it was a fact you accepted after your mom died. You had an aunt from your mother's side of the family that you spoke to every now and then since she took you in after your mom's passed. Bradley and Pete had been cut out of your life for a long time. Bradley more than Pete.
"Here you go! An iced coffee. I took the liberty of adding in vanilla syrup." The barista placed the drink in front of you as you smiled at her.
"Thank you again. I appreciate it."
"Don't worry about. By the way, you two make a cute couple!" Before you could explain that you and Jensen weren't together, the barista had walked away. A disgusted frown made its way to your face as Jensen snickered.
"How about we get outta here and head to work, babe?"
"Eat shit, shitter."
"Morning Bradshaw! Kay!" Amy grinned at you two. Jensen smiled at her and the two started conversing as you followed behind them. Your service uniform was always incredibly uncomfortable for you. Something about the tightness and formality of it made you scream internally. Of course, you never showed your discomfort on the outside. Years in the academy and in the raiders taught you how to mask your feelings.
Jensen held the door for you and Amy as all three of you walked into the conference room. Politely greeting everyone, you took a seat as the lights started to dim. Your eyes met Nolan's from your spot as you nodded at your elemental leader. Carlos and Ethan were seated next to them and they gave you a friendly smile and nod.
"Thank you all for coming on such quick notice," Ari said, standing tall at the head of the table, all eyes on him. "Normally, the rest of my squad would be here to plan out the assignment, however, the higher ups have deemed that it's only necessary that I work on this." Ari Chambers was a man who respected by all. He was an efficient SOO and got the job done. His own squad was famed for their intelligence when it came to planning your assignments.
"Sir, if I may, why is it that only half our tactical squad was called for this assignment. Wouldn't it make more sense to have all of our combined skill?" Amy asked from besides you.
"The higher ups made it clear that the less people who know about this assignment, the better. I requested that only the people in this room be called back. In my personal opinion, this tactical squad is the stronger of the two in the first battalion. You have a fine squad, Meadows." Nolan nodded in appreciation as Ari continued. "Of course, it won't just be the raiders on this assignment. You'll be accompanied by a squadron of naval aviators, the best I've been assured. They'll take care of the skies while you work on the ground. They'll be arriving to Camp Pendleton within the next day in order to go over the assignment with us. I except everyone on their best behaviors."
You could see from the corner of your eye, Ethan holding back an eye roll at the comment. "Problem, Kim?" Startled, Ethan shook his head as Carlos, Jensen, and Amy turned to him with amused eyes. You and Nolan kept your focus on Ari as he opened a folder. "The squadron you'll be cooperating with has been dubbed as the "Dagger Squad." They'll be led by Captain Pete Mitchell. Callsign: Maverick."
'shit'
"Can't believe we have to actually work with naval aviators," Ethan complained from the seat behind you as Amy elbowed him. He and Amy were sitting in the seats behind you, and Nolan and Carlos were seated behind them. Jensen was sat to your right in the passenger's seat as you drove to the bar that your squad loved to drink at every time you were in California.
"I'm sure they won't be that bad," Amy reasoned as Carlos snickered from behind her. "Kim's just upset cause he got ghosted by naval aviator once."
"Did not!"
"Did to!"
"Nu-uh!"
"Yu-huh!"
"Children," Nolan warned as Ethan and Carlos quickly stopped arguing. Amy started talking about a movie she saw recently as Jensen turned to you.
"You good?"
"Why wouldn't I be?" you questioned, your eyes momentarily meeting his. Your grip on the steering wheel tightened as you thought back to Ari's words. Scoffing, Jensen rolled his eyes.
"Fine, be like that." Clicking your tongue, you sighed. You didn't like when Jensen gave you a taste of your own attitude. It reminded you of how bitter you became when the topic of your estranged family came up.
"I don't know if I can work with him."
"Captain Mitchell?"
"Yeah."
"Not to be harsh, but it doesn't matter if you think you can't. You're gonna have to so this mission is successful."
"I know. I'm gonna have to act like I can tolerate him, when in reality I want nothing more than to scream at him."
The sign of the The Gunny came into view as your squadmates cheered. Quickly parking and filing out, Carlos slung his arm around your shoulders before shaking you. "You gonna play us another song, (y/n)?" Smirking, you agreed as your group made its way inside.
Bodies in uniform and civies filled your vision as you greeted familiar faces. A smile made its way to your face as you approached the man behind the bar. "You miss me, handsome?" you teased the blond, who's eyes widened and smile widen upon seeing you.
"(y/n)! You're back," Zack sweetly cheered as he hugged you as best he could from behind the counter.
"For you? Always." Zack playfully rolled his eyes as he started pulling out beers for you and your squad.
"I'm assuming everyone else is here if you are."
"Yep," you said popping the 'p'.
"The first round's on the house. I'll see you in between rounds? Oh, and your guitar's still here!"
Giving the blond a wink and smile, you nodded before taking the beers and heading to your group's usual spot. Upon seeing you with drinks, your friends cheered and laughs started to flow around.
A couple drinks in and your squad, minus Nolan and you, had flushed cheeks and wide smiles. "(y/n), you're gonna perform for us, right?!" Amy widely smiled at you as everyone else smiled and agreed. You also smiled as you turned to look at Nolan.
"Only if our fearless leader joins me," you teased. Rolling his eyes, Nolan stood and offered you a hand. Giggling, you followed him towards the small stage and quickly grabbed your guitar that was mantled on the wall.
Your friends and other marines started to cheer and gathered around the stage. Like Jensen, you has a reputation within the raiders. When your squad was stationed in Oceanside, it was a guaranteed that you were the one who would start a performance. You'd say that it was in your genes to perform music for people.
Nolan started playing the drums from behind you and as you started playing on your guitar. People that recognized the tune of the song started cheering.
Mmm, yeah!
Tonight, I want to give it all to you In the darkness, there's so much I want to do And tonight, I want to lay it at your feet 'Cause girl, I was made for you And girl, you were made for me
I was made for lovin' you, baby You were made for lovin' me And I can't get enough of you, baby Can you get enough of me?
Your eyes met Zack as he laughed and shook his head. He'd seen you perform multiple times and each was as memorable as the last. His favorite was when you and Jensen were absolutely drunk and got the entire bar to sing Kids In America.
Tonight, I want to see it in your eyes Feel the magic, there's something that drives me wild And tonight, we're gonna make it all come true 'Cause girl, you were made for me And girl, I was made for you
I was made for lovin' you, baby You were made for lovin' me And I can't get enough of you, baby Can you get enough of me?
The entire bar has joined in and a wide smile made it was to your face as you pointed to your friends who sang even louder.
I was made for lovin' you, baby You were made for lovin' me And I can give it all to you, baby Can you give it all to me?
Oh, can't get enough I can't get enough I can't get enough
As your eyes watched the crowd go wild, a familiar Hawaiian shirt peeked out from behind a group of guys and your eyes furrowed momentarily.
I was made for lovin' you, baby You were made for lovin' me And I can't get enough of you, baby Can you get enough of me?
Oh, I was made You were made I can't get enough No, I can't get enough
I was made for lovin' you, baby You were made for lovin' me And I can't get enough of you, baby Can you get enough of me?
You cheered as claps and howls sounded throughout the bar. Turning to Nolan, you grinned as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder. You both bowed and hopped off the stage before joining your friends.
Amy shook your shoulders and brought you in for a hug as the guys patted Nolan on the back. Face a little flushed, you excused yourself and made your way over to Zack. Requesting another beer, you waited for him to finish up with other people.
"Quite a show you put on," a man said from your side. Turning to him, you smiled at him. His green made your cheeks heat up slightly as thanked him. "I didn't know the raiders required sing lessons."
Giggling, you shook your head. "What can I say? Naturally gifted. My folks used to say it was a genetic thing."
"Gifted, indeed," the sandy-blond man grinned. "Jake Seresin." Nodding, you momentarily turned away to thank Zack as he passed you a beer.
"So, Jake Seresin. What're you doing in The Gunny? Never seen you here before."
"In Oceanside for work. I'm a naval aviator."
Raising your eyebrow, you let out a breathy laugh. "It was nice meeting you, but naval aviators are a big no for me." Jake's grin fell for a second before he grabbed your wrist as you turned away.
"Got your heart broken by one?" he asked as you chuckled.
"Three."
"I won't be number four."
Shaking your head, you removed your wrist from Jake's hold. "Sorry, Jake, but I'm just too busy." Quickly turning away, you started making your war back to your friends before stopping as Jake called out after you.
"I'll be by the pools table with my friends if you change your mind!"
Giving him an amused smile, you continued your walk to your friends before sliding into a seat. Exhaling, you tried to hide your red cheeks. Ever the observant one, Ethan whistled and wiggled his eyebrows at you. "Who's got you all red, (y/n)?"
"None of your business," you answered as Jensen and Carlos snorted. Amy smirked at you as she leaned closer to you.
"Come onnnnnnnn. Tell us," she whined as Jensen joined her from your other side. Grumbling, you looked at Nolan with pleading eyes. The older man simply raised his hands in surrender.
"Don't look at me. I wanna know, too."
Groaning, you buried your face into your hands as your friends continued to tease you. "Fine! Some dirty blond with cute green eyes. Approached me at the bar and introduced himself. Jake Seresin."
Amy squealed as the guys started to cheer. "Here's the kicker. He's a naval aviator."
Ethan's face dropped as Jensen and Carlos cackled at his face. Amy and Nolan smiled at you before Carlos suggested you go for after him. While everyone agreed, you started waving them off. "Naval aviators are a big no for me."
"Oh come on! He had you all flustered! I've never seen you like that," Amy reasoned as everyone nodded.
"Don't stop yourself from going after him just cause I have problems with aviators," Ethan added.
Biting your lip, you looked down at your beer. Jensen quickly rubbed your back as he lowered his voice, "Not everyone is gonna hurt you, (y/n)." Sighing, you nodded before standing tall. Your friends cheered as you turned and made your way to the pool tables.
Immediately spotting Jake, you called out to him. Grinning, Jake turned to you. Smiling at him, you tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear before your smile fell. The same Hawaiian shirt you saw earlier popped out from behind Jake. Stepping around the dirty-blond, you called out to the person wearing the shirt.
"Bradley?"
{A little guide to who everyone is since I didn't properly introduce them:
Jensen Kay- CSO in your squad
Ethan Kim- CSO in your squad
Carlos Ruiz- CSO in your squad
Amy Clarke- SARC in your squad
Nolan Meadows- your squad's elemental leader
Ari Chambers- SOO of the HQ half of the first battalion
Zack Ramsey- owner of the The Gunny
Braidy (y/n) Bradshaw- CSO
From what I've read the Marine Raider Regiment (MARSOC) is spit into three battalions. (y/n) is a raider within the first battalion which is stationed at Camp Pendleton in Oceanside, CA (45 minutes from Miramar actually). Each battalion is split into two sides, the HQ side and the tactical side. Ari is apart of the first battalion's HQ side and everyone else is apart of the tactical side. There's actually two squads on the tactical side but for the sake of story I only include one squad. If there's anything else I seemed to miss, feel free to tell me and I consider making some changes}
Asking Robby to walk you down the aisle after u said yes to Jack hOLD MY HAND SYDDDD 😭😭😭😭
The Handoff 𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪₊ ⊹˚
a/n : I fear I took your idea and turned it into a 4k word emotional spiral. I genuinely couldn’t help myself. like… Jack crying in uniform??? Robby soft-dad-coded and holding it together until he can’t??? the handoff?? the dress reveal??
summary : Jack proposes in the trauma bay. You say yes. Before the wedding, you ask Robby to walk you down the aisle.
content/warnings: emotional wedding fluff, quiet proposal energy, found family themes, Jack crying in uniform, Robby in full dad-mode, reader with no biological family, soft military references, subtle grief, emotional intimacy, and everyone in the ER being completely unprepared for Jack Abbot to have visible feelings.
word count : 4,149 (... hear me out)
You hadn’t expected Jack to propose.
Not because you didn’t think he wanted to. But because Jack Abbot didn’t really ask for things. He was a man of action. Not words. Never had been.
But with you? He always showed it.
Like brushing your shoulder on the way to a trauma room—not for luck, not for show, just to say I’m here.
It was how he peeled oranges for you. Always handed to you in a napkin, wedges split and cleaned of the white stringy parts—because you once mentioned you hated them. And he remembered.
It was how he left the porch light on when you got held over.
How he’d warm your side of the bed with a heating pad when your back ached.
He’d hook his pinky with yours in the hallway. Leave your favorite hoodie—his—folded on your pillow when he knew he’d miss you by a few hours.
Jack didn’t say “I love you” like other people. He said it like this. In gestures. In patterns. In choosing you, over and over, without fanfare.
No big speeches. No dramatic declarations.
Just peeled oranges. Warm beds. Soft touches.
So when it finally happened—a proposal, of all things—it caught you off guard.
Not because you didn’t think he meant it. But because you’d never pictured it. Not from him. Not like this.
The trauma bay was quiet now. The kind of quiet that only happens after a win—after the adrenaline fades, the stats even out and the patient lives. You’d both been working the case for nearly forty minutes, side by side, barked orders and that intense, seamless rhythm you’d only ever found with him.
You saved a life tonight. Together.
And now the world outside the curtain was humming soft and far away.
You stood by the sink, scrubbing off the last of the blood—good blood, this time. He was leaning against the supply cabinet, gloves off. Something in his shoulders had dropped. His body loose in that way it never really was unless you were alone.
He didn’t speak at first.
Just watched you in that quiet way he always did when his guard was down—like he was trying to memorize you, just in case you weren’t there to catch him tomorrow.
You flicked water from your hands. “What?”
“Nothing.”
You gave him a look.
He hesitated.
Then, casually—as casually as only Jack could manage while asking you something that was about to gut you—
“I’d marry you.”
You froze. Not dramatically. Not visibly. Just enough that he caught the subtle change in your face, the way your mouth parted like you needed more air all of a sudden.
His eyes didn’t move. He didn’t smile. Didn’t joke.
“If you wanted,” he added after a beat, voice a little lower now. A little rougher. “I would.”
It didn’t sound like a performance. It sounded like a truth he’d been sitting on for months. One he only knew how to say in places like this—where the lighting was too bright and your hearts were still racing and nothing else existed but you two still breathing.
Your chest ached.
“Yeah,” you said. It came out quieter than you meant to. “I’d marry you too.”
He exhaled slowly through his nose.
And then he stepped toward you—not fast, not dramatic, just steady. Like he’d already decided that he was yours. Like this wasn’t new, just something the two of you had known without ever having to say it.
No ring. No big speech. No audience.
Just you. Him. The place where it all made sense.
“You’re it for me,” he murmured.
And you smiled too, because yeah—he didn’t say things often. But when he did?
They wrecked you.
Because he meant them. And he meant this.
You. Forever.
You didn’t tell anyone, not right away.
Not because you wanted to keep it a secret. But because you didn’t have anyone to tell. Not in the way other people did.
There were no group texts. No parents to call. No siblings waiting on the other end of the line, ready to scream and cry and make it real. You’d built your life from the ground up—and for a long time, that had felt like enough. You’d learned how to move through the world quietly. Efficiently. Without needing to belong to anyone. Without needing to be someone’s daughter.
But then came residency.
And Robby.
He hadn’t swooped in. Hadn’t made it obvious. That wasn’t his style. But the first week of your intern year, when you’d gotten chewed out by a trauma surgeon in the middle of the ER, it was Robby who handed you a water, sat next to you in the stairwell, and said, “He’s an asshole. Don’t let it stick.”
After that, it just… happened. Slowly.
He checked your notes when you looked too tired to think. He drove you home once in a snowstorm and started keeping granola bars in his glovebox—just in case.
He noticed you never talked about home. Never mentioned your parents. Never took time off for holidays.
He never asked. But he was always there.
When you matched into the program full-time, he texted, Knew it.
When you pulled your first solo central line, he left a sticky note on your locker: Took you long enough, show-off.
When a shift gutted you so bad you couldn’t breathe, he sat beside you on the floor of the supply room and didn’t say a word.
You never called him a father figure. You didn’t need to.
He just was.
So when the proposal finally felt real—settled, certain—you knew who you had to tell first.
You found him three days later, camped at his usual spot at the nurse’s station—reading glasses sliding down his nose, his ridiculous “#1 Interrogator” mug tucked in one hand. He didn’t notice you at first. You just stood there, stomach buzzing, watching the way he tapped his pen against the margin like he was trying not to throw the whole file out a window.
“Hey,” you said, trying not to fidget.
He looked up. “You look like you’re about to tell me someone died.”
“No one died.”
He leaned back in the chair, eyebrows raised. “Alright. Hit me.”
You opened your mouth—then paused. Your heart was thudding like you’d just sprinted up from sub-level trauma.
Then, quiet: “Jack proposed.”
A beat.
Another.
Robby blinked. “Wait—what?”
You nodded. “Yeah. Three days ago.”
His mouth opened. Then shut again. Then opened.
“In the middle of a shift?” he asked finally, like he couldn’t decide whether to be horrified or impressed.
You smiled. “End of a code. We’d just saved a guy. He said, ‘I’d marry you. If you wanted.’”
Robby looked down, then laughed quietly. “Of course he did. That’s so him.”
“I said yes.”
“Obviously you did.”
You shifted your weight, suddenly unsure.
“I didn’t know who to tell. But… I wanted you to know first.”
That landed.
He didn’t say anything. Just stared at you, his face soft in that way he rarely let it be. Like something behind his ribs had cracked open a little.
Then he let out a breath. Slow. Rough at the edges.
“He told me, you know,” he said. “A few weeks ago. That he was thinking about it.”
Your eyebrows lifted. “Really?”
“Well—‘told me’ is generous,” he muttered. “He cornered me outside the supply closet and said something like, ‘I don’t know if she’d say yes, but I think I need to ask.’ Then grunted and walked away.”
You laughed, head tilting. “That sounds about right.”
“I figured it would happen eventually,” Robby said. “I just didn’t know it already had. This is the first I’m hearing that he actually went through with it.”
He looked down at his coffee, thumb brushing the rim. Then back up at you with something warm in his expression that made your throat go tight.
“I’m proud of you, kid. Really.”
Your throat tightened.
“I don’t really have… anyone,” you said. “Not like that. But you’ve always been—”
He waved a hand, cutting you off before you could get too sentimental. His voice was quiet when he said, “I know.”
You nodded. Tried to swallow the lump forming in your throat.
“You crying on me?” he teased gently.
“No,” you lied.
“Liar.”
He reached up and gave your arm a firm pat—one of those dad-move, no-nonsense gestures—but he kept his hand there for a second, steady and warm.
“You’re gonna be okay,” he said. “The two of you. That’s gonna be something good.”
You smiled at the floor. Then at him.
“Hey, Robby?”
He looked up. “Yeah?”
You opened your mouth—hesitated. The words were there. Right there on your tongue. But they felt too big, too final for a hallway and a half-empty cup of coffee.
You shook your head, smiling just a little. “Actually… never mind.”
His eyes softened instantly. No push. No questions.
Just, “Alright. Whenever you’re ready.”
And somehow, you knew—he already knew what you were going to ask. And when the time came, he’d say yes without hesitation.
It happened on a Wednesday. Late enough in the evening that most of the ER had emptied out, early enough that the halls still echoed with footsteps and intercom beeps and nurses joking in breakrooms. You’d just finished a back-to-back shift—one of those long, hazy doubles where time folds in on itself. Your ID badge was flipped around on its lanyard. You smelled like sweat, sanitizer, and twelve hours of recycled air.
You found Robby in the stairwell.
Not for any sentimental reason—that’s just where he always went to decompress. A quiet landing. One of the overhead lights had a faint flicker, and he was sitting on the fourth step, half reading something, half just existing. His hoodie sleeves were shoved up to his elbows.
He looked tired in that familiar, permanent way. But settled. Like someone who wasn’t trying to be anywhere else.
“Hey,” you said, voice low.
He looked up instantly. “You good?”
You nodded. Walked down a few steps until you were standing just above him.
“I need to ask you something.”
He squinted. “You pregnant?”
You snorted. “No.”
“Did Jack do something stupid?”
“Also no.”
He closed the folder in his lap and gave you his full attention.
You hesitated. A long beat. “Okay, so—when I was younger, I used to lie.”
Robby blinked. “That’s where this is going?”
You ignored him.
“I’d make up stories about my family. At school. Whenever there was some essay or form or ‘bring your parents to career day’ crap—I’d just invent someone. A dad who was a firefighter. A mom who was a nurse. A grandma who sent birthday cards.”
Robby didn’t move. Just listened.
“And I got good at it. Lying. Not because I wanted to, but because it was easier than explaining why I didn’t have anybody. Why there was no one to call if something happened. Why I always stayed late. Why I never talked about holidays.”
You looked down at him now. Really looked at him.
“I didn’t make anything up this time.”
His brow furrowed, just slightly.
“Because I have someone now,” you said. “I do.”
He didn’t say anything. Not yet.
You took a breath that shook a little in your chest.
“And I’m getting married in a few months, and there’s this part I keep thinking about. The aisle. Walking down it. That moment.”
You cleared your throat.
“I don’t want it to be random. Or symbolic. Or just… for show.”
Another breath.
“I want it to be you.”
Robby blinked once.
Then again.
His mouth opened like he was about to say something. Closed. Then opened again.
“You want me to walk you?”
You nodded. “Yeah. I do.”
He exhaled hard. Looked away for a second like he needed the extra space to catch up to his own heart.
“Jesus,” he muttered. “You’re really trying to kill me.”
You smiled. “You can say no.”
“Don’t be an idiot.” He looked up at you, and his voice cracked just slightly. “Of course I’ll do it.”
You hadn’t expected to get emotional. Not really. But hearing it out loud—that he’d do it, that he meant it—it undid something small and knotted in your chest.
“You’re one of the best things that ever happened to me, you know that?” he said.
“I didn’t have a plan when you showed up that first year. Just thought, ‘this kid needs a break,’ and next thing I knew you were stealing my chair and bitching about suture kits like we’d been doing this for a decade.”
You laughed, throat thick. “That sounds about right.”
“I’m gonna need a suit now, huh?”
“You don’t have to wear a suit.”
“Oh, no, no. I’m going full emotional support tuxedo. I’m showing up with cufflinks. Maybe a cane.”
You rolled your eyes. “You’re unbelievable.”
He stood then—slower than he used to, one hand on the railing—and looked at you with that same warmth he always tried to hide under sarcasm and caffeine.
“You did good, kid.”
You gave a crooked smile. “Thanks.”
The music started before you were ready.
It was quiet at first. Just the soft swell of strings rising behind the door. But your hands were shaking, your throat was tight, and everything felt too big all of a sudden.
Robby looked over, standing next to you in the little alcove just off the chapel doors, tie only mostly straight, boutonniere slightly crooked like he’d pinned it on in the car.
“You’re breathing like you’re about to code out,” he said gently.
You gave him a half-laugh, half-gasp. “I think I might.”
He tilted his head. “You okay?”
“No,” you whispered, eyes already burning. “I don’t know—maybe. Yes. I just—Jack’s out there. And everyone’s watching. What if I trip? Or ugly cry? Or completely blank and forget how to walk?”
Robby didn’t flinch. He just reached out and took your hand—steady and instinctive—his thumb brushing over your knuckles the way he had that night during your intern year, when you’d locked yourself in the on-call room and couldn’t stop shaking after your first failed intubation. He didn’t say anything then either. Just sat beside you on the floor and held your hand like this—anchoring, patient, there.
“Hey,” Robby said—steady, but quieter now. “You’re walking toward the only guy I’ve ever seen drop everything—without thinking—just because you looked a little off walking out of a shift.”
You blinked, chest already starting to tighten.
“I’ve watched him learn you,” Robby continued. “Slow. Quiet. Like he was memorizing every version of you without making it a thing. The tired version. The pissed-off version. The one who forgets to eat and pretends she’s fine.”
He let out a quiet laugh, still looking right at you.
“I’ve seen Jack do a thoracotomy with one hand and hold pressure with the other. I’ve seen him walk into scenes nobody else wanted, shirt soaked, pulse steady, like he already knew how it would end. He doesn’t rattle. Hell, I watched him take a punch from a drunk in triage and not even blink.”
His hand tightened around yours—just slightly.
“That’s how I know,” he said. “That this is it. Because Jack—the guy who’s walked into burning scenes with blood on his boots and didn’t even flinch—looked scared shitless the second he realized he couldn’t picture his life without you. Not because he didn’t think you’d say yes. But because he knew it meant something. That this wasn’t something he could compartmentalize or walk away from if it got hard. Loving you? That’s the one thing he can't afford to lose.”
Your eyes burned instantly. “You’re gonna make me cry.”
“Good. Less pressure on me to be the first one.”
You gave him a teary smile. “You ready?”
Robby offered his arm. “Kid, I’ve been ready since the day you stopped listing ‘N/A’ under emergency contact.”
The doors creaked open.
You sucked in a breath.
And then—
The music swelled.
Not the dramatic kind—no orchestral swell, no overblown strings. Just the soft, deliberate rise of something warm and low and steady. Something that sounded like home.
The crowd stood. Rows of people from different pieces of your life, blurred behind the blur in your eyes. You couldn’t see any one of them clearly—not Dana, not Langdon, not Whitaker fidgeting with his tie—but you felt them. Their hush. Their stillness.
And at the far end of the aisle stood Jack—dressed in his Army blues.
Not a rented tux. Not a tailored suit.
His uniform.
Pressed. Precise. Quietly immaculate.
It wasn’t a performance. It wasn’t for show. It was him.
He hadn’t worn it to make a statement. He wore it because there were people in the pews who knew him from before—before the ER, before Pittsburgh, before you. Men and women who had bled beside him, saved lives beside him, watched him shoulder more than anyone should—and never once seen him like this.
Undone. Open.
There were people in his family who’d worn that uniform long before him. And people he’d served with who taught him what it meant to wear it well. Not for attention. Not for tradition. But because it meant something. A history. A duty. A vow he never stopped honoring—even long after the war ended.
And when you saw him standing there—dress blues crisp under the soft chapel light, shoulders squared, mouth tight, eyes full—you didn’t see someone dressed for a ceremony.
You saw him.
All of him. The past, the present, the parts that had been broken and rebuilt a dozen times over. The weight he’d never put down. The man he’d become when no one else was watching.
Jack didn’t flinch as the doors opened. He didn’t smile, didn’t wipe his eyes. He just stood there—steady, quiet, letting himself feel it.
Letting you see it.
And somehow, that meant more than anything he could’ve said.
The room stayed still, breath held around you.
Until, from somewhere near the front, Javadi’s whisper sliced through the quiet:
“Is he—oh my God, is Abbot crying?”
Mohan choked on a mint. Someone—maybe Santos—audibly gasped.
And halfway down the aisle—when your breath caught and your knees went just a little loose—Robby spoke, voice low and smug, just loud enough for you to hear.
“Well,” Robby muttered, voice low and smug, “remind me to collect $20 from Myrna next shift.”
You glanced at him, confused. “What?”
He didn’t look at you. Just kept his eyes forward, deadpan. “Nothing. Just—turns out you weren’t the only one betting on whether Jack would cry.”
Your breath hitched. “What?”
“She said he was carved from Army-grade stone and wouldn’t shed a tear if the hospital burned down with him inside. I disagreed.”
You gawked at him.
“She told me—and I quote—‘If Dr. Y/L/N ever changes her mind, tell her to step aside, because I will climb that man like a jungle gym.’”
You almost tripped. “Robby.”
“She’s got her sights set. Calls him ‘sergeant sweetheart’ when the nurses aren’t looking.”
You clamped a hand over your mouth, laughing through the tears already welling. And the altar still felt a mile away.
He finally glanced at you, face softening. “I said she didn’t stand a chance.”
You blinked fast.
“Because from the second he saw you?” Robby added, voice lower now. “That was it. He was done for.”
You had never felt so chosen. So sure. So completely loved by someone who once thought emotions were best left unsaid.
Robby must have felt the shift in your weight, because he pulled you in slightly closer. His hand—broad and warm—curved around your arm like it had a thousand times before. Steady. Grounding. Father-coded to the core.
“You got this,” he murmured. “Look at him.”
You did.
And Jack was still there—still crying. Not bothering to wipe his eyes. Not hiding it. Like he knew nothing else mattered more than this moment. Than you.
When you finally reached the end of the aisle, Jack stepped forward before the officiant could speak. Like instinct.
Robby didn’t move at first.
He just looked at you—long and hard, eyes bright.
Then looked at Jack.
Then back at you.
His hand lingered at the small of your back.
And his voice, when it came, was rougher than usual. “You good?”
You nodded, too full to speak.
He nodded back. “Alright.”
And then—quietly, like it was something he wasn’t ready to do but always meant to—he took your hand, and placed it gently into Jack’s.
Jack didn’t look away from you. His hand curled tight around yours like it was a lifeline.
Robby cleared his throat. Stepped back just a little. And you saw it—the tremble at the corner of his mouth. The way he blinked too many times in a row.
He wasn’t immune to it.
Not this time.
“You take care of her,” he said, voice thick. “You hear me?”
Jack—eyes glassy, jaw tight—just nodded. One firm, reverent nod.
“I do,” he said.
And for once, that wasn’t a promise.
It was a fact.
A vow already lived.
Robby stepped back.
A quiet shift. No words, no fuss. Just one last glance—full of something that lived between pride and grief—and then he stepped aside, slow and careful, like his body knew he had to let go before his heart was ready.
And then it was just you and Jack.
He stepped in just a little closer—like the space between you, however small, had finally become too much. His hand tightened around yours, his breath shallow, like holding it together had taken everything he had.
The moment he saw you—really saw you—something behind his eyes cracked wide open.
He didn’t smile. Not right away.
He didn’t say anything clever. Didn’t reach for you like someone confident or composed.
It was like he’d been waiting for this moment his whole life—and still couldn’t believe it was real.
“Fuck,” he breathed. “You’re gonna kill me.”
You tried to laugh, but it cracked—caught somewhere between joy and everything else swelling behind your ribs.
The dress fit like a memory and a dream at once. Sleek. Understated. A silhouette that didn’t beg for attention, but held it all the same. Clean lines. Long sleeves. A bodice tailored just enough to feel timeless. A low back. No shimmer. No lace. Just quiet, deliberate elegance.
Just you.
Jack took a breath—slow and shaky.
“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he said, like he wasn’t entirely sure he was speaking out loud.
You blinked fast, vision swimming.
“You’re not supposed to make me cry before we even say anything,” you managed, voice trembling.
He gave a small, broken laugh. “That makes two of us.”
You could feel the crowd behind you. Every attending. Every nurse. Every person who thought they knew Jack Abbot—stoic in trauma bays, voice sharp, pulse steady no matter what walked through the doors.
And now? They were seeing him like this.
Glass-eyed. Soft-spoken. Undone.
Jack looked at you again. Really looked.
“I knew I was gonna love you,” he said. “But I didn’t know it’d be like this.”
Your breath caught. “Like what?”
He smiled—slow, quiet, reverent.
“Like peace.”
You blinked so fast it almost turned into a sob. “God. I hate you.”
“No, you don’t.”
“No, I don’t,” you whispered, smiling through it.
Behind you, the music began to fade. The officiant cleared his throat.
Jack didn’t move. Didn’t look away. His thumb brushed over your knuckles like it had done a thousand times before—only this time, it meant something.
“I’ve never been more sure of anything,” he said softly. “Not in combat. Not in med school. Not even the first time I intubated someone on a moving Humvee.”
You laughed, choked and real. “You’re ridiculous.”
“I’m yours,” he corrected. “That’s the important part.”
The officiant spoke then, calling for quiet.
But Jack leaned in one last time, voice so low it barely touched the air.
“Tell me when to breathe,” he said.
You smiled, heart wrecked and steady all at once.
“I’ve got you.”
And Jack Abbot—combat medic, ER attending, man who spent a lifetime holding everything together—closed his eyes and let himself believe you.
Because for once in his life, he didn’t have to be ready for the worst.
He just had to stand beside the best thing that ever happened to him.
And say yes.
Dr Michael "Robby" Robinavitch x reader
Word Count:3707
TRIGGER WARNINGS: TALKS OF SUICIDE, SUICIDAL TENDENCIES, TALKS OF INFERTILITY. THIS IS A DARK FANFIC, PLEASE DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE IN A BAD SPACE MENTALLY.
“This place will break your heart,” Y/N stood on the edge of the group as she stared at her wonderful husband, struggling to get through his speech to the team. But as she looked around taking in the scene before her, her husbands words faded away replaced by the loud ringing she was all to accustomed to.
The day had been one of the worst she could remember. It had started with a fight with Robby about him going into work, on a day he was supposed to have off.
“You never work today, why are you going in?” She sighed as she watched him getting dressed.
“I just…” He paused running his hands over his face. “They are short staffed today, I can’t leave them stranded.”
“And what about me,” She snapped pulling her hair up into a messy bun. “What about the doctor’s appointment.”
“Shit.” Robby sighed. “Baby, I’m sorry I forgot I…”
“Michael,” Y/N said tears building up. “I know today is hard for you, but burying yourself in work isn’t going to help. Have you thought any more about talking to that therapist Jack suggested.”
“Jesus Y/N, I’m fine.” Robby snapped. “We are down staff, you know that, that’s why I’m going in, no other fucking reason.”
“You sure sound fine.” Y/N snapped back before she took a breath. “Baby, why won’t you talk to me. I understand what you are going through I miss Adam…
“You don’t understand shit!”
Y/N froze. Her heart shattering.
“Right.” She said as she stormed into the bathroom and slammed the door. As she stared into the mirror she could barely hear the sound of Robby knocking on the door as the ringing began. But she did her best to shove her anxiety down, she wouldn’t break, not now. Not in the middle of a fight with Robby. So instead that anxiety turned into anger.
“Y/N I’m sorry, I…” Robby started when Y/N ripped the door open.
“No Michael, you’re right I don’t understand how you are feeling. It’s not like I was there, it’s not like I wasn’t going through everything with you. It’s not like I didn’t come running, and I mean running, when you called me on that day. It’s not like I wasn’t also distraught when he died because I cared about Monty to!” Y/N screamed.
Robby reached out, but Y/N pulled back as she cleared her throat.
“I won’t plan on waiting up for you for dinner tonight. I’ll leave you leftovers in the fridge.”
“Y/N…”
“Have a good day at work.”
“Will you let me know when you get to the hospital for your appointment, I will see if I can swing up.” He said trying to fix the situation.
“We both know you won’t be able to get away.” Y/N sighed as she wiped the tears from her eyes.
“I’m sorry,” Robby said his voice quiet and broken. Y/N wanted to forgive him, she wanted to pull him into her arms and comfort him, but her chest felt heavy and she could feel the numbness creeping up. She wasn’t in a headspace to take care of him.
“I’m going on a run.” She said as she turned away from him and headed out of their apartment into the crisp air.
“What is the fucking point anymore,” The voice in her head nagged. “You are not going to be able to help him. He doesn’t trust you anymore.”
Y/N clenched her jaw. This negative thoughts had been building for months at that point, and they were getting worse, darker. But however much she tried to convince her husband that talking to someone would help him, she wasn’t the type to take her own advice.
The day had just gotten worse from there. In the past, after a fight, Robby would have sent her a text or some sort of acknowledgement that he still cared, and that he wanted them to repair the damaged that had happened. But she got nothing. No text, no voice memo, no inappropriate gif that Robby didn’t fully understand what it meant. Just silence.
“He doesn’t care anymore. He’s going to leave you.” The voices continued as she sat in the lobby waiting for her doctors appointment.
To distract herself, she pulled out her phone and texted Jack.
“You want to get dinner/breakfast when you wake up?”
“Not today. Wasn’t a good shift.” He texted back.
Y/N heart broke. Her brother tried to act tough and grumpy, but she knew that at his core he cared so deeply about every person who rolled through the ER. He always took any death hard.
“You want to talk about it?”
“Nah, just want to be alone.”
Y/N sighed. While Jack had gotten better ever since he started going to therapy, she couldn’t help but worried about him constantly. While Jack was older than her, she had always felt like she was responsible for him. Especially after his injury. She had never been more scared in her life then when she thought she was going to lose him. And ever since then she promised to be his rock, to be the one who was there for him through anything.
But that was just who Y/N was, she was everyones rock. She took on all of their pain, their sadness, their anger, and she made sure that everyone knew how loved and cared for they were. She couldn’t stand the thought of anyone being in pain or being alone. However, in her quest to heal everyone else, she never said no, she never acknowledged her own pain, her own struggles. Instead she would just stuff them down. She was very much like her husband in this way.
And for the most part, she handled everything. That was until her and Robby started trying for a baby.
They had talked about it for years, but with both their schedules, Robby being an ER doctor and Y/N being a cardiothoracic surgeon, they hadn’t had time to fully talk about a game plan.
But one morning, on a rare Sunday when they both had off, Robby and Y/N were walking around Allegheny Commons Park, and Robby saw some parents playing with their toddler.
“Y/N,” He said his gripped tight in hers. “I think we should try for a baby.”
“I mean I’m pretty sure what we did this morning would catagorize as trying for a baby.” She teased.
Robby blushed. “Y/N I’m serious. I know we have talked about it, but I really want to do this. I mean hell I’m already going to be in a nursing home by the time the kid is 18, but you want this, and I want this. And you are going to make one hell of a mother.”
Y/N turned to face her husband. Her face beaming. “Really?”
“Yes really now come on.” He laughed as he started to walk them back to their apartment.
“Where are we going?”
“Well if we are going to start trying I want to start now.” Robby said and he fought the urge to throw Y/N over his shoulder and carry her all the way back.
But it never happened. They tried everything. But after months of being heartbroken everytime Y/N took a test just for it to come back negative, they knew they had to go talk to a professional to figure out what was wrong.
Robby’s test had come back fine, his “swimmer’s were firing on all cylindars” the doctor had explained crudely. So now it was Y/N’s turn. That was the appointment Robby had forgotten about.
“Mrs. Abbot-Robinavitch.” The nurse called and Y/N smiled. In any other circumstance she would correct them by saying she was doctor, not Mrs, but she didn’t recognize the nurse so she decided to cut her some slack.
The walk back to the room felt like an eternity. Y/N knew she should have called Robby, she should have let him know she was heading in for the appointment. But she knew the odds of him being able to check him phone were slim to none, and she didn’t want to get hurt again hoping.
The appointment blurred by, the doctor talked to her trying to explain everything that was happening, but all Y/N heard was one sentence, “I’m sorry but your uterus is an inhospitable environement and it is unlikely that you will be able to conceive a child.” After that the ringing in her head took over and nothing else mattered. Y/N knew that the doctor was trying to explain to her other options, and other ways her and Robby could have children, but it didn’t matter. That numb sensation was back, and Y/N just went through the motions. She nodded along to what the doctor was saying but she wasn’t actually listening.
“You are a failure. Robby wants to have a baby and you can’t give it to him.” Her thoughts screamed.
“Are you alright? Do you want me to call your husband for you?” The doctor said a look of concern in her eyes.
“No, I’m… I’m ok. He’s busy at work I don’t want to disturb him.”
The doctor handed Y/N some pamphlets on adoption and surrogacy, all of which Y/N dumped in the trash as soon as she was back in the lobby.
“Nothing matters anymore.” The voices persisted.
Y/N had almost made it out to her car, when she felt her phone vibrating in her pocket. Pulling it out, she saw it was Jack calling.
“Did you change your mind about taking me up on breakfast?” She said trying to muster up as much emotion as she could to make it sound like she wasn’t as dead inside as she felt.
“There is an active shooter at Pittfest, can you come in?” He said and Y/N’s heart fell into her stomach. Jake was at Pittfest. With how long Y/N and Robby had been together, Jake was such a major part in her life. He was basically like a son to her, just as much as he was to Robby. The fear overwhelmed her, but she knew at this time she couldn’t let it consume her, she needed to be ready to go. Robby would need her in more ways that one.
“Yeah I’m in the hospital now, let me grab some scrubs and I will head down.”
“I’m almost there. I got a head start to hopefully beat any traffic.” He said. “Let Robby know, I’m on my way.”
“Will do.” She said hanging up the phone, as she ran to find herself some scrubs.
When she made it down to the pitt, she eyes scanned the chaos looking for Robby.
“Y/N.” A voice called and she turned to see him behind her. Their eyes locked and she watched as his shoulders dropped, and instantly she knew, today had been hell, and it was about to get a whole lot worse.
“Come here.” she said as she grabbed his hand and pulled him into an empty room.
“I’m so fucking glad you are here.” He sighed as he pulled her into his arms.
They held onto each other for a moment. Just drinking up each other’s presences.
“I love you so much, I’m so sorry about this morning.” Robby whispered as he kissed the side of her head.
“I love you too.” Y/N said her mind drifting back to the doctor’s appointment she just came from. Now was not the time to tell Robby though, that would wait until they were home. “Jack is on his way.”
“Oh thank god.” Robby sighed and Y/N couldn’t help but smile. Robby and Jack’s friendship made her so incredibly happy.
They had been in the thick of it for over an hour. And what they had seen in that amount of time, was enough for Y/N to think she never wanted to come back. But she had gotten good at dissasociating, and in order to keep helping people, she knew that was the only way she was going to make it through. That was until she heard her husband’s voice over the noise.
“Jake, you can’t stay with her.”
Y/N’s head snapped over to where she heard him talk and she could see Jake limping beside a gurney, and Leah, Jake’s girlfriend unconscious. Both of them covered in blood.
She felt torn, she knew she still had a patient she needed to work on, but she needed to get to Jake.
“I’ve got this.” Langdon said taking over for her.
The minute he said that she bolted over.
“Jake!” She called as she rushed up to him.
“Y/N, Leah… she… there was so much blood.”
“Robby’s got her, he’s going to do all he can. Are you hurt?”
“My leg. I think I got hit.”
“Ok let me take a look.”
After making sure Jake was patched up and situated, Y/N made her way over to Robby who was doing compression on Leah. Jack’s eyes immediately locked onto hers, and he just shook his head sadly.
“No,” Y/N thought looking at the poor girl on the gurney. “She’s so young. She had her whole life ahead of her.”
“Robby.” She said as she got closer. “Baby, she’s gone.”
Robby sighed. “Ok we are done.”
“Time of death…” Dana started.
Y/N stared down at the poor girl, her eyes welling up with tears. And for however sad she was for Leah and her family, Y/N couldn’t help thinking how it could’ve been Jake.
“Do you want me to come with you to talk to Jake.” Y/N whimpered her voice sounding so small.
“No I got it.” Robby said and Y/N could hear how broken he sounded.
“Do you think he will be ok.” Jack said coming up behind her.
“Honestly Jack, I don’t know.”
“And are you ok?”
“Are any of us ok?” She snapped back.
“Good point.”
And now they all stood after surviving the shift from Hell, listening to Robby give an moving speech but all Y/N could think about was how nothing mattered. She was spiraling as everything from that day hit her so hard at once it was like being hit by a train.
“Nothing you do matters, no matter how many lives you save, there will always be some asshole ready to kill hundreds. The world is going to shit. It’s a good thing you can’t have a baby. You wouldn’t want to bring a child into this fucked up world anyway.” Y/N could feel her whole body start to shake as her thoughts screamed at her. “Give up now, there is no point anymore.”
As she stared out at her brother and her husband the numbness she had been feeling all day was replaced by utter despair.
“End it” The voices screamed, and could feel the tears start streaming down her face. She quickly took off up the stairs heading to the roof.
“Everyone will be better off without you.”
“Stop it!” Y/N screamed as she made it to the roof.
It didn’t take her long to make it across to the railing and she climbed over. It wasn’t the first time she had been up there. This spot was one of her brothers favorites to descrompress after a long day.
“What will Jack do if you are gone.”
“He will move on with his life without having to worry about you anymore.”
“And Robby?”
“Oh Micheal,” Y/N sighed as she sat down on the edge of the roof her legs dangling over the edge.
“You can’t give him the baby he wants” The voice taunted as Y/N gripped the edge of the roof and leaned forward slightly. “Free him”
“Have you seen seen Y/N?” Robby asked Jack as he gathered up all of his stuff at the end of his shift.
“Not since you gave your speech,” Jack said. “I have an idea of where she would have gone.”
The two made their way onto the roof expecting to find Y/N in their usual spot. But when they opened the door they were shocked with what they found.
“Y/N!” Robby gasped as he started to run towards her.
“Don’t come any closer,” She screamed.
“Y/N/N, what are you doing?” Jack asked as he slowly inched forward.
“I said don’t come any closer.”
“Y/N baby, don’t do this.” Robby begged.
“I can’t do it anymore Michael,” Y/N sobbed. “I just… I don’t see a point.”
“Y/N what is going on, where is this coming from?” Jack asked still moving slowly towards her.
“Nothing we do makes any difference, for ever 5 people we save another 10 will die, and every year it seems people are doing more and more things to hurt each other. How are we supposed to handle all that death.” She sobbed leaning a little further forward. “It’s a good thing I can’t get pregnant because I don’t think I could survive bringing a child into this fucked up world!”
“What?” Robby gasped and it caused Y/N to sob even harder.
“That is what the doctor told me today. It’s my fault we can’t have children, my uterus isn’t a hospitable environment.” She laughed dryly. “Even my own fucking body does want to create life, so what is the point in living it.”
Robby was full on panicking, he had never seen his wife like this, he had no idea how to handle this situation. Sure he talked Abbot off the ledge a few times, but he never seriously thought he would jump. This was different he knew that at any moment he could lose the love of his life.
“And it’s not fair to you Michael it’s not fair, you want a baby so badly, you have been so excited about trying. You deserve to be with someone who can give that to you.”
“Y/N, I don’t want anyone else, I want you. I need you. Please.” He said and he started to make his way closer following Jack’s lead.
“I just am so tired of feeling like this, it feels like I’’m drowning and everytime I get my head up just slightly for air I get shoved even harder and further down.”
“Why haven’t you talked to any of us about this.” Jack asked finally reaching the railing. On the outside he was playing it cool, but inside he was contemplating if he could move fast enough to grab his sisters arm and yank her off the edge before she had time to fall.
“I didn’t want to be a burden. Everyone elses problems are so much bigger than mine. Plus I need to be ok for everyone so I can take care of them.” Her sobbing had started to slow and her eyes were focused more and more on the ground below.
“Y/N I love you so much, and I am so sorry for not realizing that you were hurting. But you cannot do this, we all need you.” Robby said.
“Please just come back from the edge and we can talk more.” Jack said calmly climbing over the railing.
Y/N just hummed as she shook her head leaning forward again.
“I feel like I’m failing everyone all the time.” Robby suddenly said and both Jack and Y/N looked over at him.
“What?” Y/N gasped.
“I failed Adamson, I failed Leah, and I’m worried I have failed at being your husband.” He said as he came and sat next to her on the edge of the ledge.
“Micheal no you haven’t failed I…”
“I feel like I am a liability to the staff because I take the death of patients too hard.” Jack said as he also came and sat next to her on the edge. “I am one bad day from being a power keg and losing my shit on everyone.”
“But Jack you have made so much progress. You talking with that therapist has helped…” Y/N started.
“I know, but I wouldn’t have seen them, without you Y/N/N. You have saved me so many times without even realizing it, just by being you. I need you Y/N.” Jack said reaching over to grab her hand.
“You are my sunshine, baby.” Micheal continued. “You have been there for me through everything, My life is so much better with you in it. And I can’t imagine life without you. I am so sorry I wasn’t with you for the appointment. And we will figure out how to have a child, this isn’t the end. There are plenty of kids who need good homes who would love to have you as their mom. But I need you by my side Y/N. You keep me going.”
“I… I just…” Y/N broke down again. “I’m sorry. Everything just seemed so hopeless.”
“I know, but we are going to get you help.” Robby said. “It’s my turn to take care of you.” He smiled as he kissed the side of her head. “Let’s get up away from the edge.”
Y/N nodded as she took Robby’s hands as he helped her up and over the edge of the railing. The minute her feet were both on the ground, Robby pulled her in for a long hug, one hand on the back of her head holding her as tightly as he could as the tears started to fall.
“You can’t do that to me again, I can’t lose you baby.” He sobbed. And he watched as Jack leaned down his head on the railing taking deep breaths finally losing his cool.
“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.” Y/N kept repeating over and over again.
“I love you so much.” Robby said holding her tighter than her ever thought possible. And he knew in that moment that he would do everything in his power to make sure he never let her go.
Spencer wanted this date to go perfectly, he wanted to treat you like a princess and maybe even land a second date... but why is Hotch calling?
pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 4
cw: fem!reader, kissing, slight angst, fluffy
a/n: kicking my feet fr
You started getting ready two hours earlier than you normally would.
Sure, you had been on dates before, but you could confidently say you’d never been this excited to go on a date before. You’d been on the odd blind date that your friend from back home set up, but they usually went as well as you’d expect a date with a misogynistic frat boy with mommy issues to go… not great. After Spencer had walked you home, and called to ask you out for dinner, you were utterly giddy.
You barely got any sleep that night, your mind and heart racing a mile a minute thinking about the kiss you shared outside your apartment building. You spent the most of the afternoon picking out an outfit, staring at your body in the mirror while you turned side on, front on, side on again to make sure your ass looked good (it did).
You asked Spencer to tell you where he was taking you, because you really didn’t want to be underdressed or overdressed. He insisted it was nothing fancy but a man’s idea of fancy and a woman’s idea of fancy are very different things.
You picked something that felt like the best of both worlds, a semi-formal mini dress and dressed down with your favourite knitted cardigan. You spent the rest of the afternoon getting ready, styling your hair, picking jewellery and shoes and doing your makeup.
You had been excited the whole day but as 6pm got closer and closer, you started to get nervous. It had been a while since you’d gone on a date with someone you felt you really liked and wanted to impress, it was a strange feeling.
Spencer knocked on your door at exactly 6pm. You were in the middle of pulling applying your lipgloss when he knocked. You cursed quietly to yourself, thinking you had way more time than you actually did. You’d hoped he’d be at least a little bit late. He was a genius though, punctuality was kind of his thing.
You almost tripped over your shoes running to the front door, a cleaning task you would tackle when you got home. You pulled the door open with a smile beaming across your face. Your heart fluttered at the sight of Spencer’s precious face peeking over a bouquet of pink tulips.
“Hi,” he said softly with a tight lipped smile. He held the tulips out toward you, “for you.”
“Spencer…” you pouted at the gesture, taking the tulips from his grasp. “They’re so beautiful.”
“Garcia said flowers would make a good impression,” he lied, he actually read a considerable amount of articles and first date guides all day at work. But Garcia did help him pick the flowers.
“Well, she was right. Tulips are my favourite,” you grinned, turning back into your apartment to find and fill a vase. “Come in, I won’t be a minute, I just need to put my shoes on and grab my purse.”
Spencer awkwardly stepped into your apartment, glancing around at the now fully decorated space, a far cry from what it looked like just 3 weeks ago. You quickly went to put your shoes on and put some money, your lipgloss and perfume in your purse. You closed the door to your bedroom and paused, staring at Spencer as he squatted down and rubbed Tofu’s belly.
“Made a new friend?” You asked.
Spencer smiled with utter delight, “She’s so fluffy.”
You giggled at Spencer’s response, grabbing the keys for your apartment off the kitchen counter. Spencer dusted the cat fur off his pants before spinning on his heel to face you, “ready to go?”
“Yeah,” you smiled. You stepped closer until you were just in front of him, you reached up and adjusted his tie gently. “You look very handsome.”
His cheeks felt hot, “T-thank you… You-! You look really nice too- beautiful! You look beautiful…” he stammered, exaggeratedly gesturing at your appearance.
You giggled softly, “thank you, Spence… Shall we?”
“Yes, yes, right,” he replied, quickly scurrying to the door to open it for you.
The two of you made your way down to his car and he made a point to run ahead of you when you left your apartment building to open his passenger door for you. He was intensely determined to be a gentleman, wanting to give you a good impression so maybe you’d go on another date with him, maybe even come to Rossi’s dinner party next week. But he was getting ahead of himself, he should probably focus on the road.
“...So where are you taking me?” You asked, glancing out the car window at the city speeding by.
“It’s one of my favourite places,” he replied, hands nervously gripping the wheel. “I… hope you like it.”
“I’m just happy to spend time with you, Spencer… We could sit on the pavement outside a seven eleven and I’d be thrilled,” you grinned, folding your hands in your lap as you watched him glance at you. You watched him for a moment, chuckling to yourself whenever he would glance down at your lap then clear his throat.
Spencer was really trying to keep his eyes on the road, but your plush thighs in the corner of his eye were proving to be very distracting. He had never had a pretty girl in his passenger seat before, especially not a girl he was taking on a date.
Spencer drove for maybe 30 minutes before he pulled into a parking lot. Once he parked, he quickly got out of the car and did a little run around the front to open your door for you, reaching to help you out of his car.
Spencer held his elbow out for you and you linked arms, your hand gently holding his upper arm. There was a long line up outside the restaurant, people talking and laughing, clearly it was a popular spot. Spencer was stiff with nervousness, his hands clammy as you leaned your temple against his shoulder.
“You okay?” You questioned gently.
He nodded quickly, “Yeah, just… I’ve never been on a proper date before.”
You pouted, “well don’t be nervous. I’m only here for you, Spence. I’m sure it’ll be perfect.”
Spencer’s phone suddenly rang in his jacket pocket. You quickly let go of his arm as he pulled it out of his pocket, staring at Hotch’s caller ID. He hesitated for a moment, knowing it was work and he would likely have to leave. Spencer looked at you with such sadness and disappointment in his eyes.
“Work?” You asked softly.
“Yeah… But I-”
“It’s okay, Spencer,” you smiled sadly. “Your job’s important.”
Spencer sighed before stepping away from the line and answering the call. You couldn’t hear what he was saying but he sounded upset given his gestures and frantic running of his hand through his hair. After a minute he hung up, slipping his phone in his pocket. He looked at you sadly, opening his mouth to say something but you cut him off.
“It’s okay, Spencer,” you held his face softly. “You go, I’ll get a cab, okay? And when you get back you can tell me all about how you kicked ass, okay?”
Spencer breathed out a laugh and nodded timidly, “Okay.”
“Go,” you said, letting go of his face as he quickly darted away to his car. He was almost out of sight when you watched him turn back, running back to you. He quickly planted a kiss on your lips, breathing hard against you. You smiled against his lips and held his cheek in your hand. He pulled away just as fast, your lipgloss smeared along his lips. You wiped it off with your thumb, “okay, now go.”
“I’ll call you,” he breathed, kissing your cheek quickly before running off.
It killed him leaving you there. Spencer wasn’t someone who got angry that easily but he was in a bad mood about this. He charged through the bullpen that night like a bulldozer, ready to set fire to anyone who dared ask him ‘how he was’. Morgan, JJ and Emily sensed the crankiness the moment Spencer pulled his chair out and sat down with a thud, crossing his arms angrily.
“Rough night, lover boy?” Morgan asked, trying to lighten the mood.
“Wasn’t much of a night at all, really,” Spencer retorted with an attitude.
“Woah, woah, what happened?” Emily questioned, eyes narrowing at Spencer.
“I had a date, okay? That girl you met last night? Y/N? I was taking her to my favourite restaurant and then Hotch called and I-” Spencer had to stop himself before he blew up. His lips formed a tight line as he stared at the table, not daring to look up.
“Aw, Spence…” JJ sighed, “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry doesn’t help,” Spencer mumbled. He spent the rest of their meeting in a foul mood, barely listening to JJ as she listed the details of their next case. They were never usually called in on their days off but after almost twenty bodies, the BAU had a lot cut out for them.
“We’ll leave in two hours,” Hotch dismissed. Spencer was first up, grabbing the small stack of files and pushing toward the door to go to his desk. Morgan and Emily looked at each other, sharing a look of disbelief over Spencer’s crankiness.
Spencer sat at his desk pushing his pen around, barely touching the cup of sugar with a splash of coffee that JJ got for him. All he could think about was how you probably wouldn’t talk to him again after this, he knew this job came with sacrifices, but he just wanted one thing, one thing, to himself.
“You okay, Reid?” Penelope asked softly.
Spencer glanced up at her, letting out a sigh, “I was on a date with Y/N before this… We didn’t even get to sit down.”
Penelope’s shoulders slumped at his words, “I’m sure you’ll be able to make it up to her,” she said hopefully.
Spencer nodded slowly, “I hope so.”
Penelope stepped away to answer a phone call and Spencer was left feeling sorry for himself at his desk for the next 30 minutes, going through his mind the different things he could say or do to make it up to you. Maybe he should call you? Text you? Drop by when he gets back? Or maybe he could buy you another cat as a peace offering-
“Is this seat taken?”
Spencer’s head shot up from his desk, coming face to face with you, your hand resting on the empty chair by his desk.
“Y/N? What are you-”
“I called Penelope,” you answered, “She told me you weren’t leaving for another hour so… I thought I’d bring dinner?”
You held out a plastic bag of take away food from the restaurant he took you to. You asked Penelope what his favourite thing on the menu was and bought some extra for yourself. Spencer looked like a kicked puppy as he stared up at you in disbelief.
He stood up and quickly hugged you, making you chuckle at the sudden affection. You felt your face heat up at all the eyes suddenly on you and Spencer. Morgan whooped from his desk, cheering loudly and obnoxiously, prompting Spencer to pull away from you.
“I’m so sorry,” Spencer whispered.
“You don’t have to apologise, Spence,” you replied. “You love your job and it’s important,” you shrugged, placing the plastic bag on his desk.
“God, you’re so sweet it’s killing me,” Emily grumbled, walking by with a fresh cup of coffee. She pointed at Spencer, brows raised, “keep her.”
You and Spencer shared a laugh before he pulled a chair over closer to his for you. You sat down and pulled your takeaway dinner from the plastic bag, letting Spencer tell you all about the restaurant and why this specific meal was his absolute favourite. His knees brushed against yours under his desk and he just revelled in the comfort of your company.
“So, what’s your new case?” You asked, taking a sip of your drink.
“Uh, well,” he trailed off.
“You can’t tell me, huh?” You chuckled.
“Not really, sorry,” he replied. “I’m sure it’ll be on the news tomorrow.”
“Right, well. I’m sure deep down I don’t really wanna know,” you shrugged.
He nodded, “the cases we work aren’t exactly pleasant.” Spencer sighed, “I wish we could have actually had a date.”
“This is a date,” you replied. “Is it not?”
“Well… I mean, it’s just not what I wanted for our first date.”
“Like I said Spence, you could take me to a seven eleven and I’d have a blast,” you chuckled, reaching over to run a thumb across his cheek. “You can make it up to be on our second date.”
Spencer quickly looked at you, “Second date?”
“Yeah… only if you want to?”
“Yes, yeah. I want to,” he replied almost too fast. You smiled sweetly at him, a piece of your hair falling from behind your ear. Oh yeah, he’s done for.
a/n: had you in the first half, didn't i... dare i say you've pierced his heart, HAHAHAH
taglist: @crazycat-ladys-blog @cillsnostalgia @secretly-tumb1r