Death By A Thousand Cuts | Dr. Michael 'robby' Robnavitch X Daughter Au!

First meetings

Pairing: Jack Abbot x female! intern! reader

Warnings: cursing, sexual content is described (not explicit), one night stand, medical inaccuracies, Jack Abbot being soft (I guess), mentions of vomiting (I promise no one is pregnant)

!MDNI 18+ content!

Summary: Meeting Jack Abbot twice for the first time was not on her bucket list, especially not after how their unoffical first meeting ended.

A/N: Heyy so, this was something else I wanted to write for Abbot. I am currently thinking about writing a second part for this, but I am not sure yet. I think it would be interesting, depending on how this is recieved I might write a second part :) Also the first part of this fic is more like looking back at the events that took place, again Jack might be a bit ooc, so please forgive me

She had met Jack Abbot in a bar for the very first time. It was one of those dimly lit, smelling like beer and wood, kind of bar, the kind of bar that served cheap drinks and was frequented by people that wanted to get drunk and have a good time. Just having finished med school, still waiting until her residency program would start. Her friends had wanted to celebrate, she had wanted to as well, there was a reason to after all. It had taken some convincing, especially since her friends had been rather insistent on an outfit she would never have chosen for herself.

Spotting the older man from across the bar had almost been like a moment of total clearness, like someone had flipped a switch in her mind. The wavy, salt and pepper hair, the beautiful features, the man had caught her attention without even trying. He had been staring into his glass, like he was miles away in a completely different plane of reality, maybe that was what had drawn her to him, or maybe it was that this man looked like he had stepped straight out of a painting.

Putting on her best smile she had sauntered over to him, trying to appear as confident as possible. As she did that she internally thanked her friends for the beautiful outfit she was now in. She bought him a drink before she even introduced herself, that had earned her a raised brow at first, then a slight smile. He had told her his name, his first name only back then. The first thing he had asked her then was how old she was. She had told him the truth, twenty six, he had been uncertain, but the moment she started chattering about the beauty of devotion to one‘s beliefs he seemed to have leaned back and given her a chance. Talking for hours with him she felt like something clicked between them, something was extremely right when they talked. At some point his hand had found her thigh, they began facing each other and their conversation flowed on. She felt guilty about having abandoned her friends, but the moment she glanced back towards where they were sitting one of them gave her a thumbs up. All of them looked in her direction and the thumbs up and happy smiles only grew more and more in the group.

The talking for almost four hours had landed her at his place, a hot mouth on hers before the door was even closed properly. None of the surfaces of his apartment had been left unused, except for the kitchen counter, though she had gotten that more than she probably should. At the end of the night her legs were shaking violently and the warm blanket wrapped around her, the warmth of him more comforting than it probably should be. For a man his age, she had joked while they laid in bed together after many rounds of very good sex, he had an impressive stamina. After that comment he had snorted and eaten her out like a man starved. Laying there with him she had looked at him, his face looked more relaxed then, his eyes on her face as she gently brushed his cheek with her knuckles.

“I wish I could freeze this moment in time,” she had whispered and he had smiled at that, simply kissing her, though he had never returned the sentiment verbally, but she had felt it through the kiss.

The next morning they had eaten breakfast together, it was nothing fancy, just some toast and cheese, but it had felt just right as they drank from his old beaten up coffee mugs, while chatting about this and that. She had given him her number and left around noon that day, the tension between them still crackling like it had the night before. Not sure if she should expect a call or not and if she should just move on with her life as she arrived at her own apartment.

——————————-

The dark blue scrubs hung loosely on her body, the elastic in the pants keeping them from falling, the only things that were keeping her from going insane over the fabric were the compression socks and the thermo undershift she was wearing. A stethoscope wrapped around her neck she stepped into the ED of the PTMC. It was busy, people running around, the voices of patients filling the room with a mixture of low groans and moans, but also light giggles from medication, staff was standing together, chattering away as she moved across the room.

This was her first day of residency, well her official first day of residency would have been last week, but she had been throwing up the entire weekend, as well as in the entirety of the day of her official first day, so she had called the admin staff and called in sick. The worst thing about that being that that day had been the day of the Pitt Fest shooting, she had felt guilty, but then decided that feeling guilty would not get her anywhere and her having to vomit constantly wouldn‘t have been helpful in any case.

As she walked towards the nurses‘ desk she saw an older man standing in front of a computer, hunched over slightly, black framed glasses resting on his nose, a dark hoodie thrown over his scrubs, he looked weirdly familiar, but she couldn‘t place his face. His dark hair was styled upwards and the beard had some white hairs in it, though the wrinkles around his eyes were deep, he looked about six or so years older than Jack, she shook her head, she had to stop thinking about him, it had almost been a month since she had seen him.

„Excuse me?“ she asked carefully, stepping towards him, not wanting to startle the man. He looked up from the desktop, his dark eyes glimmering in the white light of the ED. “Dr. Robinavitch?” she tilted her head to the side.

“Yes, that is me,” he laughed slightly as he smiled at her. Quickly she gave him her name and his face lit up.

“Ah, yes! It is good to see you back on your feet.” he looked over at the nurse in the nurses’ station, blonde hair and she could see she had a black eye.

“Thank you,” she laughed nervously.

“So this is our charge nurse, Dana, the most important person you are going to meet today,” he looked around, seeing a group of three women and one man coming their way, he waved them towards them. Quickly she introduced herself to them. She learned that the young woman with the dark hair and clear eyes was Trinity Santos, an intern. Melissa or rather Mel King, an R2, with the most adorable smile and charming optimism. Victoria Javadi, who seemed to suffer from imposter syndrome more than anything else and such an inviting personality that it almost made her want to cry, she was an MS3. Dennis Whitaker, who looked like he wanted to sink into the floor and seemed to be a bit awkward, though it was rather endearing, an MS4.

Dr. Robinavitch or rather Dr. Robby, how he was also called, sent you along with Dr. Heather Collins for most of the day. She was a nice woman with whom she got along rather well. Since she was an R1 she still needed guidance in certain areas and was mostly supervised by someone, not all the time thought.

The day turned out to be rather eventful and gruelling in its own way, she had been spit on, shouted at, a patient had smeared poop in her hair, a worried parent had accidentally elbowed her in the stomach, the hit and run victim she had helped treat had died, a toddler that had somehow gotten the child safety cover off the outlet had put a fork in it and shocked himself was in a coma, a patient had slapped her ass as she was trying to treat his head injury, she had nearly peed her pants because she did not get the chance to go to the bathroom, Santos was incredibly annoying, another patient had asked her if she would suck him off if he paid her the right amount and the list only went on the later it was, another patient died from internal bleeding from multiple stab wounds, no chance for lunch or a drink in between cases. Glancing at her watch she saw that it was already past eight, meaning that theoretically her shift was over, but apparently things kept coming her way and all hands were needed.

From what Santos had told her, the senior attending from night shift was already there, but she had yet to see the man. Trinity had told her that he was an incredible teacher, someone that was worth working with. Since the night shift was already there she also met Dr. Ellis and Dr. Shen and their charge nurse Brigit.

As she made her way towards the nurses’ station she felt herself beginning to sway, the fact that she had not had a single sip of water since she had eaten breakfast that morning or the fact that she had not eaten anything in over twelve hours explained the dizziness. She also hadn’t sat down in the same amount of time. Stumbling slightly she felt herself loose her footing on the floor of the ED she reached out for something to hold onto while she prepared to hit the ground. She felt two strong hands on her arm and hip pulling her upright before she was able to fall, the feeling of hitting a strong chest made her breath in sharply.

Turning her head to face her saviour she practically let out a screech as she saw Jack holding her tightly.

“Holy shit!” she practically shouted. It was not because of his great reflexes nor was it because she was glad she hadn’t fallen, no that was because she was face to face with Jack again. Some faces turned their way as he supported her to get her to sit down somewhere and she did, taking a seat on one of the chairs she stared at him, with her mouth slightly agape as he looked at her with a raised eyebrow. She heard Princess and Perlah mutter something between them in Tagalog, knowing that it was probably the gossip mill already beginning to move. Before Jack could ask her anything Mel was already hurrying to the nurses’ station.

“Are you alright? I saw you almost falling!” Mel came over to her, looking extremely worried.

“Yeah, everything alright,” she continued staring at Jack, her mind going through all kinds of emotions going through her mind at this moment. “Just a bit dizzy,” she snapped her gaze away from Jack who let out a huff.

“Dr. King, get her something to eat and drink, if you don’t mind, then go home, your shift ended over an hour ago,” Jack spoke softly to Mel, who nodded and headed off. He looked at her for a long moment and shook his head. She could hear the discussion between Princess and Perlah intensifying, though she did not understand what they were saying.

“Dr. Jack Abbot,” he held out his hand to her, just like he had done in the bar a month ago, a shiver ran down her spine as she took it, shaking it carefully introducing herself with her full name this time as well. Suddenly it was like whiplash hit her and she knew where she had seen Dr. Robby before, she had seen him in one of the photos in Jack’s apartment.

Mel reappeared with two granola bars and a cup of water in her hand, setting it down.

“Thanks, Mel,” she smiled at the woman. “See you tomorrow,” Mel told her goodbye as well and disappeared, she knew that she still needed to pick up her sister.

“Eat, drink, go home, you need to be here at seven tomorrow,” his voice was firm, but not unkind. She snorted, defiant and angry at him, hell he could have at least told her that the one night stand was supposed to stay exactly that. She wanted to tell him to go fuck off.

“Thanks, but I will be fine,” as she got up from the chair her dizziness came back knocking the wind out of her and she swayed again, sitting back down she grumbled while opening the granola bar, practically inhaling the two bars and drinking the cup of water in one gulp.

“There happy,” she sounded more snappy than she intended and she heard one of the night shift nurses gasp slightly, that would definitely be thrown into the gossip mill.

“Yes,” Jack gave her a pointed look, the kind of look that said ‘if you do that one more time you are going to be in big trouble’. “Now, go home,”

Not letting him tell her that twice she shot out of the chair and made her way towards the lockers, the dizziness wasn’t gone completely, but the bars and the water had helped. She saw Perlah and Princess in the hallway, both of them giving her suspicious looks. This was going to be interesting.

You Are In Love: Chapter Three

Jack Abbot x Reader

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!

HAPPY LOWMAN MASTERLIST 4 🍒

Here you can find all chapters to GONE WITH THE SIN.

Miranda 'Randi' Morrow was finally living her dream after getting her dream job in Seattleᅳ even though she had to give up a lot and leave behind for her dream, including the Tacoma Killer, with whom she had been in a relationship for three years. Part of her had always regretted not fighting harder for her relationship, but on the other hand she had now what she had always wantedᅳ although she wasn't sure if it was still her dream or if her priorities had changed during her time with Happy. When her brother called in a lockdown, however, she realized sooner than she liked how much she regretted letting go of what had been most important to her. Besides her dream job, her old love being back in her life and a new rival, Randi had to decide what she ultimately wanted.

·.·.·༄ 𝑾𝑬𝑳𝑪𝑶𝑴𝑬 𝑻𝑶 𝑮𝑶𝑵𝑬 𝑾𝑰𝑻𝑯 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑺𝑰𝑵!

click on keep reading to see the cast, other information and all the chapters at the end of this post!

want to get tagged in the chapters? Let me know in the comments! 🤎

𝘚𝘌𝘛 𝘐𝘕; 𝘊𝘏𝘈𝘙𝘔𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘈𝘕𝘋 𝘚𝘌𝘈𝘛𝘛𝘓𝘌 𝘐𝘕 𝟤𝟢𝟣𝟦

·.·.· 𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝑪𝑨𝑺𝑻 ·.·.·

𝗠𝗜𝗥𝗔𝗡𝗗𝗔 '𝗥𝗔𝗡𝗗𝗜' 𝗠𝗢𝗥𝗥𝗢𝗪

𝑇𝑊𝐸𝑁𝑇𝑌-𝑆𝐼𝑋 | 𝑃𝑅𝑂𝐹𝐸𝑆𝑆𝐼𝑂𝑁𝐴𝐿 𝐷𝐴𝑁𝐶𝐸𝑅 𝐴𝑁𝐷 𝐶𝐻𝑂𝑅𝐸𝑂𝐺𝑅𝐴𝑃𝐻𝐸𝑅 / 𝐷𝐴𝑁𝐶𝐸 𝑇𝐸𝐴𝐶𝐻𝐸𝑅 |  𝑆𝐴𝑀𝐶𝑅𝑂'𝑆 𝑃𝑅𝐼𝑁𝐶𝐸𝑆𝑆 𝐴𝑁𝐷 𝐻𝐴𝑃𝑃𝑌'𝑆 (𝐹𝑂𝑅𝑀𝐸𝑅) 𝑂𝐿𝐷 𝐿𝐴𝐷𝑌 | 𝑃𝑂𝑅𝑇𝑅𝐴𝑌𝐸𝐷 𝐵𝑌 𝑆𝑂𝐹𝐼𝐴 𝐶𝐴𝑅𝑆𝑂𝑁

𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗣𝗬 𝗟𝗢𝗪𝗠𝗔𝗡

𝐹𝑂𝑅𝑇𝑌-𝑇𝑊𝑂 | 𝑆𝐴𝐴 𝐹𝑂𝑅 𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝑅𝐸𝐷𝑊𝑂𝑂𝐷 𝑂𝑅𝐼𝐺𝐼𝑁𝐴𝐿 𝐶𝐻𝐴𝑅𝑇𝐸𝑅 | 𝐻𝐼𝑇𝑀𝐴𝑁 | 𝑃𝑂𝑅𝑇𝑅𝐴𝑌𝐸𝐷 𝐵𝑌 𝐷𝐴𝑉𝐼𝐷 𝐿𝐴𝐵𝑅𝐴𝑉𝐴 𝐴𝑆 𝐼𝑁 𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝑆𝐻𝑂𝑊

𝗝𝗔𝗫 𝗧𝗘𝗟𝗟𝗘𝗥 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗧𝗔𝗥𝗔 𝗞𝗡𝗢𝗪𝗟𝗘𝗦-𝗧𝗘𝗟𝗟𝗘𝗥

𝑇𝐻𝐼𝑅𝑇𝑌-𝑆𝐼𝑋, 𝐵𝑂𝑇𝐻 𝑂𝐹 𝑇𝐻𝐸𝑀 | 𝑆𝐴𝑀𝐶𝑅𝑂'𝑆 𝑃𝑅𝐸𝑆 𝐴𝑁𝐷 𝐷𝑂𝐶𝑇𝑂𝑅/𝑆𝑈𝑅𝐺𝐸𝑂𝑁 𝐴𝑇 𝑆𝑇. 𝑇𝐻𝑂𝑀𝐴𝑆 | 𝑃𝑂𝑅𝑇𝑅𝐴𝑌𝐸𝐷 𝐵𝑌 𝐶𝐻𝐴𝑅𝐿𝐼𝐸 𝐻𝑈𝑁𝑁𝐴𝑀 𝐴𝑁𝐷 𝑀𝐴𝐺𝐺𝐼𝐸 𝑆𝐼𝐹𝐹 𝐴𝑆 𝐼𝑁 𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝑆𝐻𝑂𝑊

𝗖𝗟𝗔𝗬 𝗠𝗢𝗥𝗥𝗢𝗪 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗚𝗘𝗠𝗠𝗔 𝗧𝗘𝗟𝗟𝗘𝗥-𝗠𝗢𝗥𝗥𝗢𝗪

𝐹𝐼𝐹𝑇𝑌-𝐸𝐼𝐺𝐻𝑇 𝐴𝑁𝐷 𝐹𝐼𝐹𝑇𝑌-𝑆𝐸𝑉𝐸𝑁 | 𝑆𝐴𝑀𝐶𝑅𝑂'𝑆 𝑉𝑃 𝐴𝑁𝐷 𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝑀𝐴𝑇𝑅𝐼𝐴𝑅𝐶𝐻 | 𝑃𝑂𝑅𝑇𝑅𝐴𝑌𝐸𝐷 𝐵𝑌 𝑅𝑂𝑁 𝑃𝐸𝑅𝐿𝑀𝐴𝑁 𝐴𝑁𝐷 𝐾𝐴𝑇𝐸𝑌 𝑆𝐴𝐺𝐴𝐿

·.·.· 𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 ·.·.·

𝗝𝗨𝗟𝗜𝗔 𝗔𝗧𝗞𝗜𝗡𝗦𝗢𝗡

𝑇𝐻𝐼𝑅𝑇𝑌-𝑂𝑁𝐸 | 𝐶𝑅𝑂𝑊𝐸𝐴𝑇𝐸𝑅 | 𝑃𝑂𝑅𝑇𝑅𝐴𝑌𝐸𝐷 𝐵𝑌 𝑀𝐸𝑅𝑅𝐼𝑇𝑇 𝑃𝐴𝑇𝑇𝐸𝑅𝑆𝑂𝑁

𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗡 𝗣𝗘𝗥𝗞𝗦 

𝑇𝐻𝐼𝑅𝑇𝑌-𝑆𝐸𝑉𝐸𝑁 | 𝑂𝑊𝑁𝐸𝑅 𝑂𝐹 𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝐷𝐴𝑁𝐶𝐸 𝑆𝐶𝐻𝑂𝑂𝐿 𝐼𝑁 𝑆𝐸𝐴𝑇𝑇𝐿𝐸 | 𝑃𝑂𝑅𝑇𝑅𝐴𝑌𝐸𝐷 𝐵𝑌 𝐸𝐷 𝑆𝑃𝐸𝐸𝐿𝐸𝑅𝑆

𝗔𝗡𝗡𝗘 𝗠𝗢𝗥𝗥𝗢𝗪

𝐹𝑂𝑅𝑇𝑌-𝑆𝐼𝑋 | 𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝐶𝑂𝑂𝐿 𝐴𝑈𝑁𝑇 | 𝑃𝑂𝑅𝑇𝑅𝐴𝑌𝐸𝐷 𝐵𝑌 𝑀𝐴̈𝐷𝐶𝐻𝐸𝑁 𝐴𝑀𝐼𝐶𝐾

·.·.·༄ (𝑻𝑹𝑰𝑮𝑮𝑬𝑹) 𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑺

• 𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙫𝙞𝙤𝙡𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚

• 𝙥𝙤𝙨𝙩𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙪𝙢 𝙙𝙚𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣

• 𝙙𝙚𝙩𝙖𝙞𝙡𝙚𝙙 𝙨𝙚'𝙭𝙪𝙖𝙡 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙢𝙖𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙨

·.·.·༄ 𝑰𝑴𝑷𝑶𝑹𝑻𝑨𝑵𝑻 𝑰𝑵𝑭𝑶𝑹𝑴𝑨𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵

𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥! 𝘔𝘺 𝘖𝘊 𝘪𝘴 𝘊𝘭𝘢𝘺'𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘎𝘦𝘮𝘮𝘢'𝘴 𝘥𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘳. 𝘚𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘑𝘰𝘩𝘯 𝘥𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝟣𝟫𝟫𝟥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘯 𝟤𝟢𝟢𝟪, 𝘮𝘺 𝘖𝘊 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱. 𝘚𝘰 𝘐 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘴 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦. 𝘐𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝟣𝟫𝟫𝟥, 𝘑𝘰𝘩𝘯 𝘥𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝟣𝟫𝟪𝟨 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘑𝘢𝘹 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘦𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝟣𝟥. 𝘐𝘯 𝟣𝟫𝟪𝟩, 𝘎𝘦𝘮𝘮𝘢 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘢 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘊𝘭𝘢𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝟣𝟫𝟪𝟪 𝘙𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘪 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘣𝘰𝘳𝘯. 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘴 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘚𝘖𝘈 𝘴𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘴, 𝘪𝘯 𝟤𝟢𝟣𝟦. 𝘌𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘡𝘰𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘯 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘭𝘶𝘣𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘶𝘱, 𝘑𝘶𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘢 𝘳𝘢𝘵, 𝘊𝘭𝘢𝘺 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘢 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘭 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘭, 𝘴𝘰 𝘛𝘢𝘳𝘢'𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥, 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘴 𝘴𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘢 𝘥𝘰𝘤𝘵𝘰𝘳. 𝘑𝘢𝘹 𝘪𝘴 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘗𝘳𝘦𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘊𝘭𝘢𝘺 𝘷𝘰𝘭𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘭𝘺 '𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘥' 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘭𝘺 𝘳𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘥𝘶𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘰𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘰𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘴- 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘢 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘚𝘰𝘯𝘴. 𝘛𝘢𝘳𝘢 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘑𝘢𝘹' 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘪𝘥𝘯𝘢𝘱 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘯. 𝘐𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘥, 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘤𝘰𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘭𝘶𝘣 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘎𝘦𝘮𝘮𝘢. 𝘑𝘢𝘹 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘊𝘭𝘢𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘱𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘳𝘶𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘭𝘶𝘣 𝘵𝘰𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘴 𝘗𝘳𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘝𝘗, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘳𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘺 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥. 𝘐 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘪𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘯𝘰𝘸, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘭𝘭 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨! 𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘢 𝘷𝘰𝘵𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥, 𝘰𝘧 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵, 𝘢𝘭𝘴𝘰 𝘢 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵- 𝘪𝘵 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘵𝘰 𝘶𝘴 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴. 𝘍𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘰 𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘴𝘮 𝘢𝘴 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘧𝘶𝘭. 𝘌𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘪𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘺 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵; 𝘴𝘰 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴! 𝘌𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨. 🖤🥰

·.·.·༄ 𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑷𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑺

chapter one

chapter two

chapter three

chapter four

chapter five

chapter six

chapter seven

chapter eight

chapter nine

chapter ten

. . .

chapter eleven

chapter twelve

on the line

interconnected standalone/sequel-ish to bitter/sweet and fallout - a Dr. Jack Abbot (The Pitt) fanfic

pairing: Jack Abbot x f!reader

summary: Jack takes a six-week placement across the country. Four specific FaceTime calls—full of banter, longing, and everything unsaid—hold you two together until he comes home.

warnings/tags: grumpy x sunshine, age gap, long-distance relationship, mild language

word count: 5.0k

“What are you wearing?” 

You cracked one eye open, squinting against the soft glow of your bedside lamp. Jack was staring at you through the screen of your phone, propped up on your nightstand. His image was bright against the dim lighting, accenting the sharp set of his jaw and the smirk playing at his lips.

“You know what I’m wearing – we’re on FaceTime,” you mumbled into your pillow, voice thick with sleep. Your limbs felt heavy under the familiar weight of your comforter. “When are you coming back?” 

“You know when I’m coming back,” he echoed, mimicking your tone. “Why’re you asking – miss me?” His voice dropped an octave, teasing, and you saw his eyes flick down your form as you shifted to get more comfortable beneath the covers.

This had been an ongoing game for the last month – every time you talked, one of you tried to get the other to admit they missed them first. Neither of you had cracked. 

Now, that didn’t mean you didn’t miss him. Quite the opposite, actually. 

Jack had been gone for three weeks now, having been offered an intensive placement at UCLA Medical Center. You could still remember how he broke the news—quietly, nonchalantly, like he didn’t want to make a big deal out of it—and how you’d smiled widely and pushed him to take it even as something inside you fought every move.

This is UCLA, you told yourself. He has to take it; it’s an incredible opportunity. How many times does something like this come along?

But knowing it was the right decision didn’t make it easier.

Six weeks. Forty-two days. Nearly fifty sunsets without him. 

After spending almost every day together, the sudden absence had carved out a hollow space in your chest.

The first week, you felt his absence immensely. But you figured, with time, it’d get easier. 

Oh, how wrong you were.

The ache didn’t dull. It sharpened. Everything reminded you of him – how much he’d probably roll his eyes at a joke Eleni told during service, how he’d immediately get to cleaning your apartment if he saw how messy it had gotten, how he’d let you follow him around if he was back at the hospital when you were dropping dinner off for your sister. 

Luckily, technology was on your side. While he was in California, you texted him constantly – mostly one-sided updates on your day, the chaos of the kitchen, the new weird thing your landlord did. He replied in his usual charming fashion: a “K” here, a thumbs-up emoji there.

FaceTime was more his speed. Every night, your phone took up its spot on your nightstand while you curled into bed, half-asleep before he even picked up. He was usually just getting ready for his shift – brushing his teeth, dressing in his scrubs, sometimes sitting in the car with one hand on the wheel. 

“At least it’s regulating my sleep cycle,” you’d joked during one call, watching him frown in that subtle, concerned way he did.

“You love me doing night shifts,” he’d countered. “Said it keeps you on your toes, guessing.”

“Yeah, guessing how much sleep I’m gonna get that night,” you’d teased back, and he’d huffed a small laugh. 

Now here he was, two weeks from coming home, asking you what you were wearing in that low, steady voice of his that always had knots forming in your stomach.

“You already know I’m wearing one of your hundred black tees,” you mumbled, cheek sinking deeper into your pillow. 

“No panties?” he asked, a hint of a smirk at his lips as his eyes gleamed with mischief.

With minimal effort, you peeled back the duvet just enough for him to catch a glimpse of his boxers sitting low on your hips.

“You do miss me,” he grinned triumphantly, a quiet chuckle escaping him. You sighed through a small smile, eyes fluttering shut. His voice, even through the phone, grounded you. “Tell me what you did today.”

You took a moment to think, thoughts clouded by sleep and the warmth of your sheets. “Tried out a new truffle recipe,” you murmured. 

Sure enough, you peeked an eye open just in time to catch his nose wrinkle in disgust. He hated truffles.

The sight made you smile – even 3,000 miles away, Jack was still so Jack.

“Dinner rush was crazy – some show was going on at the theatre down the block so we were packed. Almost ran into one of the sommeliers rushing out of the kitchen. Nicked my finger on the bottle opener he was holding.”

“Let me see,” he said immediately, and you pulled your hand from under the covers and held it up to the camera, watching his eyes narrow. “Did someone at the Pitt take a look?”

“My sister did,” you said, brushing it off. “It’s fine – just a scrape.”

He frowned that familiar, pinched-brow frown.

“You should keep it wrapped,” he muttered. “Could get infected.” 

You mirrored his expression, this time out of something deeper – affection, mingled with longing. “I miss you medically scolding me.” 

Jack paused a beat, then offered softly, “I can still do it over the phone. That’s why they invented FaceTime.” 

“I’m pretty sure that’s not true,” you giggled sleepily, burrowing deeper into your sheets. The weight of him not being there settled over you again, dense and unrelenting. 

Silence stretched for a moment before you opened your eyes again. Jack was still looking at you. “What?” you asked, your voice small.

He hesitated. “Nothing… you just look tired.”

But the way he said it—gentle, weighted—made your throat tighten. 

You didn’t just look tired.

You missed him. You missed sleeping better when he was beside you, the steady rhythm of his breathing syncing with yours as your limbs tangled together. You missed the safety, the stillness. Without him, everything felt a little bit off.

Your hand drifted across the sheets, reaching for his side of the bed – cold, untouched. Your fingers curled into the empty space as if you could will it to hold his warmth. That familiar ache bloomed in your chest again, pressing hard against your ribs, forcing you to acknowledge it.

And the way he was looking at you right now—gaze just soft enough for you to see the emotion behind it—it made the distance hard to bear. 

You wanted to ask him to come back early. Just say it. Just tell him.

But you didn’t.

He was doing something important – teaching residents, working alongside brilliant attendings, contributing to something meaningful. You couldn’t ask him to give that up. So you buried it, like always.

Instead, you asked, “Any exciting cases today?” 

Jack blinked at you, then shrugged, his voice returning to that calm, clinical cadence. “Someone said a guy came in with third-degree burns from resting his hand on the grill – didn’t realize his wife had turned it on.” 

You winced, turning your face into the pillow. “Ugh, Jack – that’s gross.” 

He chuckled softly. “Reminds me of an old army buddy who met the wrong end of a crockpot once.” 

You hummed, already drifting. “Tell me about it.” 

You tried to stay awake, but the familiar and comforting tone of his low voice began to lull you to sleep. A few minutes into the story, Jack noticed your breathing had slowed.

You looked so peaceful.

He watched for a while, the silence between you warm and heavy, filled with all the things left unsaid.

Then, in a quiet voice that barely crossed the distance, he whispered a sweet good night to you and ended the call.

Four weeks into the placement, when Jack FaceTimed you and you answered with a deep-set frown and red-rimmed eyes, he could already tell it would be one of those days. 

The hard days. The days one of you missed the other so much, it was impossible to ignore. The days your heart was three thousand miles away, tucked into the go-bag of your favorite ED attending, somewhere in a cramped locker room in Los Angeles. 

“What’s wrong?” he immediately asked, making your frown deepen. 

“Nothing,” you promised, setting the phone down on your nightstand as you began to get ready for bed. The camera angle wobbled as you moved – half of your frame disappearing, your voice muffled by distance and steam escaping from the open bathroom door behind you.

This was unusual. Whenever Jack called at this time, you were already tucked in bed, cozy and glowing, hair a little messy, a smile curling at the corners of your lips the moment you saw him. 

And, you always showered in the mornings – you said showering at night would intervene with how much time you two got to spend on FaceTime. 

Yet, here you were now – hair wet from the shower, curling at the ends as you moved about your room, distracted and quieter than usual. You pulled on a soft t-shirt, then wandered off-screen, brushing your teeth with a kind of mechanical rhythm.

Jack stayed silent, watching.

He could tell something was bothering you. 

Your hands shook as you did your skincare – too much toner on the pad, moisturizer forgotten halfway through.

“How was your day?” Jack asked slowly, treading lightly, trying to gauge how you were actually feeling.

“Fine,” you mumbled, disappearing again. The faucet turned on in the background as you washed your hands, cool water grounding your overheated nerves before you slipped into bed wit a heavy sigh. 

Jack’s voice came again, cautious, “Anything happen?” He tried to sound casual, but you weren’t in the mood for it now.

You glanced at the screen sharply. “Like what?” 

“I don’t know, just… anything good? Or… something bad?” 

Your jaw tensed as you looked past the phone, voice bitter. “A critic came in today.”

“Oh?” 

You laughed humorlessly. “I didn’t even know who she was, and I told her to fuck off.” 

Jack’s brow rose at that. “And why’d you do that?”

“Because she was being an asshole – and I didn’t recognize her and I was rushing and – and I was exhausted. I just snapped and – and it wasn’t even about her. It’s just… I’m tired. I’m so tired of pretending this isn’t hard.”  

Jack paused, his face softening, the weight of your words hanging thickly between you.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were feeling like this?” 

You shrugged, unwilling to meet his eyes. “Because it’s not your fault,” you finally said. “And I didn’t want to make it your problem.” 

“You’re not a problem.” 

His voice was quiet, thick with the guilt settling into his stomach.

You immediately noticed the shift in his tone – soft and frayed around the edges.

“I didn’t say it to make you feel guilty,” you said, gaze now locking onto his, unwavering. 

“I know,” he replied, tiredly dragging a hand down his face, like he wanted to crawl through the screen and pull you into his arms.

“I just… I miss you.” 

There it was.

You’d finally said it.

And yet, it didn’t make you feel like you’d lost the game – at least, not in the way you thought. And, it didn’t make Jack feel like he won, either.

“I miss you every day,” you continued. “I miss you so much I don’t know where to put it anymore. It’s just there. Always. Like a weight on my chest. And every day, you – you pick up the phone and I see your face and you’re fine. Smiling… Happy. And, it’s just – just… Don’t you miss me? Like, even a little?” 

The moment you said it, you instantly regretted it. 

Jack could tell – the way your eyes squeezed shut in regret, like you wished you could pull the words right back into your chest. It broke his heart even more than hearing the desperation in your voice. 

He found himself looking away, swallowing hard. Then, finally, quietly, he said, “Of course I miss you. I miss you all the time. I just – I don’t let myself think about it too long. If I do, I can’t focus.” 

You knew he’d never say anything hurtful on purpose but the comment still stung. A sharp pang, like a bruise pressed too hard.

If he missed you so much, how come it felt like you were the only one falling apart? If he missed you so much, why didn’t it seem like he felt it?

Before you could stop yourself, the words spilled out. “Right. Got it. I’m over here crying in the walk-in fridge like a lunatic and you get to compartmentalize.” 

His eyes flinched shut, barely perceptible – but you saw it. Instantly regretted your words. And yet, you didn’t take it back.

And he didn’t push back either.

The silence grew too thick, claustrophobic.

After a beat, you shook your head, voice quieter now. “You’re running late – I should let you go. We can just… I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

Your hand reached for the screen, heart already retreating.

“Wait!” Jack’s voice rang out, startling you.

You hesitated, still refusing to meet his eyes, but something in you paused – your ribs tightened at the strain in his voice.

“I think about you all day,” he admitted. “I know I don’t say it enough, but I do. I make a list in my head of all the things to tell you when we finally talk, and then when you pick up and give me that smile, I forget how to say any of it.”

You blinked.

That wasn't what you expected at all.

Still, he kept going. “And I bought you this mug from the UCLA store, in the shape of a smiling sunny face. I keep it in my locker, drink coffee from it before the shift – and all the residents look at me like I’m crazy. But it just… it reminds me of you. Keeps me grounded. Gets me through the shift.

“And your voice notes – I save them all. I listen to one specific one whenever I miss you more than usual – the one where you called me a broody bastard and then basically told me you missed me in the same breath.” 

That cracked something open in your chest. Like air rushing into lungs that had been holding their breath too long.

Soft tears lined your eyes. Not the frustrated kind. The aching, full-hearted kind.

You stared at the screen, heart thudding in your chest, throat thick with emotion. His face was still there – steady, honest, eyes staring back at yours, so full of you. Of all the missing he hadn’t said until now.

He missed you. Of course he missed you. Maybe not in the same noisy, unraveling way you did – but in the quiet, deliberate way only Jack could. Through mugs and voice notes. Through saved recordings and mental lists. Through showing up, every night, even when words failed.

Your lip trembled as a tear ran down your cheek.

“Jack…” you breathed, the apology catching somewhere between a sob and a sigh. 

“I’m sorry,” you finally said, voice low and thick. “I didn’t mean what I said. I just – God – I feel everything right now, and I don’t know if it’s hormones or just the distance or – ” 

That four-letter word was at the tip of your tongue, but it didn’t feel right to tell him over the phone. This deserved to be told in person. He deserved that.

Jack’s face softened, almost imperceptibly, but you caught it – the way his shoulders eased like something fragile in him had finally seemed to settle.

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, after a beat, he deadpanned, “It’s both. I checked the app earlier.” 

You stared, stunned. Then, your eyes warmed, the corners crinkling as a small, disbelieving, shaky smile touched your lips. “You track my cycle on your phone?” 

He shrugged, a little too casual. “Ever since the brownies incident – hell yeah.” 

That conversation changed things – in the best way. 

It made both you and Jack more intentional about the time apart. More creative, more present. FaceTimes evolved into something more sacred, more playful. You started doing virtual date nights, much to Jack’s technologically-deficient chagrin.

“I can barely work this FaceCall thing, you want me to do what now?”, to which you’d rolled your eyes and corrected, “FaceTime,” while suppressing a grin.

He’d grumbled, but you caught the way he cleared his evenings anyway – made sure he wasn’t on call any earlier than he needed to be, made sure his dinner (mediocre and suspiciously not homemade) was ready on time. Despite the mismatched time zones, you both made space. You’d end up eating hours apart, but “together” nonetheless. And that was what mattered.

Six days before Jack was set to fly home, you had another one of these date nights. 

The screen flickered to life and there he was – tousled hair you wished you could run your fingers through, half-zipped hoodie you wished you could burrow into, sitting cross-legged on a too-modern couch that definitely didn’t belong to him. He held up a plastic takeout container like it was an offering.

“Dinner, courtesy of the fine culinary skills I’ve learned from you.” 

You raised a brow. “That looks suspiciously like pad Thai.” 

He shrugged. “Maybe I cooked. Maybe the DoorDash guy and I are becoming best friends.”  

You snorted, curling deeper under your blanket as you reached for the remote. “What’d you do yesterday?” 

Jack leaned back with a groan, the kind that said his spine hated him and the previous night had been long. “This guy came in with a ridiculous chest injury. We had to work carefully around the nerve endings in his nipple and – what?” 

He paused mid-sentence, catching the grin spreading across your face.

“Should I be jealous by how excited you just got talking about someone else’s nipples?” you teased.

Jack coughed, nearly choking on his water. “Jesus. It was a very complicated procedure. We had to be extremely precise.” 

“Oh, I’m sure his nipples were deeply moved by your devotion,” you grinned.

“You’re insufferable.” 

“And you miss it.” 

“Unfortunately,” he deadpanned, mouth twitching.

You smiled, feeling that familiar warmth settle into your chest. God, you missed his face. You missed his voice, his sarcasm, the way he looked at you like you hung up the moon. 

You squinted at the screen. “Is it just me or are you getting a tan?” 

Jack glanced down at his arms. “Well, the sun does shockingly exist here. Unlike your vampire den of a kitchen.” 

“I work best when the lights are dim, and you know that!” 

He smirked. “Sure. That explains why every time you call me from there, you look like you’re in a hostage video.” 

You groaned, tossing a throw pillow off your bed. “Well, not all of us can soak up some West Coast rays while also being a nipple whisperer. Guess you’re just built different.” 

“I regret telling you anything about that case.” 

You smirked as The Bachelor theme started playing faintly from your TV. You both fell quiet for a beat, comfortable. It had become your ritual – playing the show in the background, pretending to care about the drama, when really, it was just an excuse to sit in each other’s orbit for a while. 

Midway through the episode, Jack stood up and walked off-screen and came back holding something. You squinted.

“Is that… a bobblehead? Of an avocado… surfing?” 

Jack held it up proudly toward the camera like it was fine art. “Picked it up at a roadside stand. Guy said it was hand-painted by his seven-year-old niece.” 

“It’s so ugly,” you commented, grinning anyway. “I love it!”

He just laughed, setting it on the table behind him so its little bobblehead eyes stared into your soul for the rest of the call. And, his heart grew every time he caught you staring at it.

Later, you rolled onto your side, shifting your phone as you got more comfortable. The new angle must’ve shown more of the room, because Jack leaned in, eyes narrowing.

“You changed the bedroom.”

You panned the camera, shaking your head. “Just been sleeping on your side lately,” you admitted through flushed cheeks, before cutting him off when he smirked and parted his lips to speak. “Don’t! Don’t ask me why. Just helps me sleep better.” 

He didn’t make a joke. Just stared at you with that soft, unreadable look that always made your chest feel like it was going to burst open.

“I missed this view,” he said gently. His voice was low, almost reverent. “That room. That bed. You in it.”

You fiddled with the comforter. “It misses you. The vibe’s been different, though. Less broody. No angry sighs every time the neighbor’s dog barks.” 

“That dog is a demon,” Jack said, on instinct.

“You’re just grumpy when you’re tired,” you teased.

“And you’re grumpy when I’m not there for you to stick those frozen toes under my legs to warm them up.” 

You opened your mouth to retort, paused, then nodded. “Okay, that’s true.” 

Jack laughed.

The show was long forgotten now. All that mattered was the glow of your screens, the way his eyes didn’t leave yours, the way his voice softened like it always did when the night got quieter.

“What do you miss the most?” he asked, almost shy.

You hesitated, then said, “I miss you hogging the blanket.” That made Jack laugh, but you shook your head, insisting, “I’m serious. In like a stockholm syndrome-y way – I miss that. And other stuff, like you leaving all the lights on or waking me up at the stupid hours of dawn when you get back from a shift… The little stuff.” 

Jack nodded, smiling in that slow, aching way. “You know what I miss?” 

“What?” 

“Sitting at the island, watching you test out new recipes – make a mess of the kitchen like you’re on some Food Network competition.”  

You smiled, fond and aching. “That’s the only way I cook.” 

“I know,” he said. “I miss it. Miss you.” 

You let that settle between you. Let it warm you all the way through.

 “In six days, I’m gonna be stuck to you like velcro,” you murmured.

He quirked a brow. “Is that so?” 

You nodded. “And you’re not allowed to leave again, by the way. And if you do, you’re taking me in your go-bag.” You lifted your pinky finger toward the camera. “Promise.” 

Without hesitation, Jack raised his pinky to match yours. “Promise, baby.” 

And for a moment, across the glow of two tiny screens, it almost felt like he was already home.

“Are you here yet?” you asked the second you picked up the FaceTime, barely able to contain the grin stretching across your face. The sounds of the kitchen clattered behind you, but your focus remained on the screen. On him.

Today was the day Jack was coming home and you were giddy with anticipation. 

“I am,” he replied, voice smooth, teasing, “but where are you?”

You groaned, “A last-minute catering order came in, so I had to stay late. Almost just brought the chef’s knife with me to work in the car and just sprint to Arrivals.”

Jack smirked, familiar and smug. “I don’t know how TSA would’ve taken that.” 

“But, I sent a good backup, huh?” 

Jack shifted the camera to the driver’s seat, where Robby sat, looking amused as he drove. “You’re lucky I’m easily bribable with food,” he said. “Picking him up on my day off was not part of the plan.” 

“Yeah, but you’d do it for the filet mignon these magic hands can make, right?” You wiggled your fingers at the screen, and Jack snorted.

“Oh, any day of the week,” Robby agreed, his grin cracking wider.

Jack turned the camera back to himself. He looked tired from the long travel day, but the way he looked at you—like he’d been waiting all day, or rather, six weeks, to see your face—made your chest ache.

You drank him in. Stubble. Black tee. Soft warmth creeping onto his features as he looked at you. 

“How was your flight?” you asked.

“You’re lucky I like you,” he replied, rubbing his jaw. “I just spent six hours sitting in front of a guy who kept stabbing at the screen like it wronged him personally. Kept me up the whole flight.”

From off-screen, Robby piped up, “Is that why you fell asleep on my shoulder in the first five minutes of the drive?” 

“Aww, is that true?” you cooed, and Jack immediately frowned, shaking his head. “Liar,” you accused with a knowing smile, before asking, “Are you close?”

“To your place?” You nodded. “I was gonna head home first, shower, sleep for a bit – ”

You were already shaking your head, correcting him, “No. You’re coming here first; not allowed to shower before you see me.”

Robby snorted, and Jack sighed in that over-it-but-not-really way before turning to his friend. “Can you drop me off at hers?” 

“Kinda already assumed,” Robby said, tapping the GPS. “Route’s set to her address.”

“How much longer?” you asked Robby, bouncing on your heels with impatient energy.

“Twenty-three minutes.”

You groaned, tugging off your apron. The clock on the wall ticked slowly, teasingly. “Can you be here already?” you whined at Jack, then paused as a mischievous glint sparked behind your eyes. “I’m ovulating and miss you being in my – ”

“Ohhhkay,” Robby cut in, clearly scarred and making your grin widen. Jack’s mouth twitched.

“I was going to say ‘arms.’ Sheesh, Jack, what kind of freaks do you work with?” you teased, grin widening as Jack broke into a full smile and aimed the camera at Robby, who groaned in defeat. 

“You’re gonna get me kicked out of this car, trouble,” Jack said, warmth bleeding into his voice at the nickname. Your chest squeezed, missing him.

Eleni walked into the office a moment later, waving at the screen. “Hey, Eleni,” Jack greeted.

“Hey,” she said, squinting. “Was that groaning I heard just now? You guys doing phone sex again or just emotionally scarring Robby?” 

“For the record, those things are not mutually exclusive,” Robby chimed in.

Eleni grinned, turning to you. “You heading out now?” 

You nodded. “Unless there’s something else – ”

She was already shaking her head. “Go. Get out of here. You’ve already cleaned the walk-in twice just waiting for Jack to land.” 

Jack perked up at that. “Aww, is that true?” he mocked, using your tone from earlier.

You glared at him, but before you could deny it, Eleni added, “She reorganized the grain bins, too!”

You were already grabbing your keys as Eleni ushered you toward the door. “Okay, I’ll see you when you get here,” you said to Jack. 

In a rare moment of vulnerability, he puckered his lips and blew you a kiss goodbye. You flushed, heart stuttering. 

“You’re getting soft on me, Abbot,” you teased.

“Pretty sure we’re way past that.”

The drive home was a blur; you could barely keep your concentration. Every red light felt like the universe was plotting against you; every slow pedestrian crossing the street made you want to scream. 

Your heart was hammering in your ears. You didn’t even remember pulling into the driveway, adrenaline surging. But the moment you caught sight of the front door – 

There he was.

Jack.

Standing at your front door in that familiar black tee, suitcase sitting on the porch as he fumbled with the spare key you’d given him. He was so focused on unlocking the door, he didn’t even hear your footsteps approaching.

“You know, for someone who saves lives for a living,” you called out, approaching him, “you’re really struggling with the concept of a lock.” 

Jack froze, then turned.

And then, a slow-spreading, lopsided smile that had lived on your phone screen for far too long was finally gracing you in person. 

“Well, maybe if someone didn’t have ten million locks on the door, we wouldn’t be in this situation,” he said, voice lower than usual, rougher in a way that made your stomach flip.

You crossed the distance in three strides. The key clattered onto his luggage as he let it fall.

And then you were in his arms. 

Not the thought of him. Not his voice through a screen. Not his pixelated smile or sleepy texts or pictures of his takeout. Him. Warm and solid and real.

His arms wrapped so tightly around you, it felt like he wouldn’t ever let go. And you didn’t want him to. You buried your face in his chest, breathing him in. 

“I forgot how good you smell,” you mumbled into his shirt. “Like middle seat and recycled plane air.” 

He tugged playfully at your ear, leaning back just enough for you to get a good look at him. Sun-kissed skin. Slight scruff that made your fingertips itch to trace it.

“You got more handsome. That’s annoying.” 

He raised a brow. “You’re only saying that because you’re ovulating.” 

“No,” you promised. “If I did, I would’ve already dragged you inside and ripped your clothes off – ”

He kissed you mid-sentence. Not hurried. Not desperate. Just… steady. Like he had all the time in the world, because now, he did.

When you finally pulled back, breath short, he rested his forehead against yours. “Missed you,” you said softly.

“Yeah,” he whispered, almost like it hurt. “Me too.” 

You leaned into him again, arms tightening, greedy now that you finally could be. “You’re never leaving again, right?” 

He chuckled, voice cracking just a little. “You going to chain me to the radiator?” 

You shrugged. “Tempting. I do own zip ties.” 

His laugh was full, unguarded, the sound of it seeping into your skin like sunlight. “Why don’t we save those for the bedroom, huh?” 

He leaned down again to kiss your cheek, your jaw, the corner of your mouth. And then he whispered, “Let’s go inside.” 

But neither of you moved. Not yet.

You’d waited this long.

What was one more minute in each other’s arms?

Tommy Shelby & Clara Shelby

✵ The Walk-In Appointment: May 1909. Clara learns to walk a bit later than her twin, but once she does there’s no stopping her from following her big brother around wherever he goes. 

✵ Tired of the Wait: 1912. When Tommy brings his sisters downtown with him to run an errand and Ada decides to run one of her own, Tommy and Clara both grow tired of waiting on their sister.

✵ Interminable Moonlight: Tommy meets Greta by the cut in the moonlight.

✵ Our Bloody Idiot: 1913. Tommy may very well be a bloody idiot, but Clara still thinks he deserves a piece of cake.

✵ The Horsewoman: 1913. Clara and Finn are ready to start school, but Clara is a bit hesitant. Thankfully, her older brother Tommy knows how to negotiate.

✵ The Devil’s Footsteps: 1913. Tommy’s taken on quite a bit of responsibility in caring for his younger siblings. He never expected that responsibility would require him explaining the inappropriateness of tossing erasers at people. 

✵ For Old and Young Alike: Set in 1913 and 1922. All Clara Shelby wants for Christmas is a little quality time with her favorite people. 

✵ The Road that Leads to Trouble: 1914. The Shelby dinner table is rarely a thing one would call quiet or calm, and it’s no different on the night the family learns their youngest has been kissing boys out on the lane.

✵ Like the Leaves: 1914. In the wake of Greta’s passing, Tommy’s little sister offers him some comfort.

✵ Things They Left Behind - Parts 1-3: 1918. John, Arthur, and Tommy have just returned from France to rediscover the things they’ve left behind: Ada, a set of twins, the business, and a few treasures their youngest sister has been keeping safe for them. *COMPLETED*

✵ The Shelby Inheritance: 1918. When Clara and Finn are being teased at school, Tommy helps them get things sorted.

✵ Thank you. I can take it from here: 1918. Clara Shelby wants to bake her brother a special treat for his birthday but needs a bit of assistance in gathering ingredients.  

✵ Little Lady Blinder Series: 1919. Clara Shelby is a kind girl, a smart girl, a well-behaved little sister in a town full of gangsters and ruffians. With the girl’s raising thus far being such a simple task, the Shelby family is left unprepared for all that accompanies a perfectly respectable little girl growing up and becoming a lady among Peaky Blinders.

✵ The Shelby Women’s Alliance: 1920. Clara navigates the first milestone of puberty on her own in a house full of clueless brothers, keeping it all to herself until Ada comes at the weekend and takes over, managing their brother and formally inducting her sister into the Shelby Woman’s Alliance.

✵ Warmth: 1920. It takes a special sort of person to fall asleep during a birthday party at the pub. Turns out it takes a special kind of person to wake them too.

✵ A Small Comfort: 1921. When Clara’s horse gets sick, Tommy tries to shield her from seeing the worst of it, but Clara has her own plans.

✵ Seeing Stars: 1921. When Finn, Isiah, and Clara get themselves in to trouble with Polly, they’re left in the church to wait on their comeuppance.

✵ Kind Eyes: 1922. Clara finds herself in Tommy’s office, studying a picture on his desk, searching for a resemblance to a mother who looks nothing like her.

✵ Something: 1922. Tommy has sensed a change in the way his youngest sister relates to the boys of Small Heath.

✵ Give Away: 1922. It’s a family day—Arthur and Linda’s wedding day—but rather than celebrating, Arthur’s got Tommy thinking about something he’d never consciously given much thought to—their Clara’s wedding and who would be giving her away.

✵ A Candle in the Darkness: 1923. Clara may be growing older, but she still needs her brother Tommy from time to time.

✵ The Council: 1923. The boy’s reaction to fifteen-year-old Clara Shelby being friends with the Watery Lane boys. 

✵ Close-knit: 1923. It’s Christmas 1923, otherwise known as the year of Clara’s Christmas sweaters.

✵ You’re Not Me: 1924. When Clara’s running herself ragged preparing for an exam, Tommy steps in to reassure her.

✵ You’ve always been naive: 1925. After an epic row, Tommy allows Clara to stay more regularly on Watery Lane with a few conditions, one of which is a mid-week meeting at the Midland Hotel to check in.

✵ My Person: 1925. Clara and Isiah haven’t talked in weeks but after a drunken night filled with a break up and scrapping in Small Heath, Isiah insists on going out to Arrow House to see her. 

✵ Bloody Rotten: 1925ish. Clara’s feeling bloody rotten, but thankfully her brother arrives home just in time to look after her.

✵ A Big, Beautiful Fellow: 1926. Tommy didn’t set out to bribe his sister and win back her good graces, but when the opportunity presents itself…

✵ They Waited for You: 1927. Tommy’s been away in London and Clara tries to bring him home to Arrow House, to be present for his son and daughter, and for her.

✵ Stars in the Sky: 1927. Clara Shelby is feeling overwhelmed with trying to balance university, family, and business responsibilities, but that doesn’t stop her from noticing something is off with her brother. When have her own problems ever stopped her from trying to fix someone else’s?

✵ Gestures of Fairness: 1927. Thomas Shelby isn’t ticklish, at least that’s what a few decades of Clara’s intel says. Charles and Clara test the theory of his god-like ability to remain stoic in the face of writhing fingers. 

✵ Five of Swords: 1929. An evening of tarot cards and forgiveness.

✵ A Little Raven: 1930ish (AU). Lizzie and Clara have a chat about Lizzie’s concerns, for the children she’s raising without much help from their father, the baby growing in her belly, the twins so eager to prove themselves, and the Shelby curse. Clara tries to offer a bit of comfort, but its Tommy coming home early on a Friday that assuages her concerns.

✵ Family Meeting - Modern AU Tommy, Isiah, and Clara

✵ LITTLE LADY BLINDER MASTERLIST ✵

✨Bleeding Knuckles ✨

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x YN "Fire" Gibbs

Summary: Rooster meets Gibbs' daughter at the boxing gym. She's ferocious, strong and she's a boxer, but she is in pain. And Rooster relates to it. Now he is here, and he won't let anything hurt you anymore., not even yourself.

Words: 940 (Blurb - Boxer!Reader and NCIS crossover)

Pls reblog if you like the idea, so that I know if ppl wants to know the whole angsty but fluff story behind my idea

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It all started with Bradley counting every time it hurt. This is what Carole had taught her son to help him cope with life's disillusion. Grievance, anger, mourning... Bradley had experienced them all, and they all left a scar deep within his soul. This is why he had started boxing - to evacuate all the negative and brutal turmoil his soul was undergoing. Since then, he kept boxing as a tradition but also as a way to work out during his free time. For sure, he worked a lot and could not go to the boxing gym as much as he wanted, but today Maverick granted him a leave. After weeks of harsh training, Rooster could relieve the stress that had accumulated within. Each blow against the punching bag felt like a sweet release.

One punch for the excruciating training.

One punch for Hangman, just because he is a dick.

One punch for his ex, who had just broken up with him weeks ago.

He was about to throw another punch at the poor hanging bag when the sound of a girl grunting in pain snapped him out of his thought. Rooster stopped and swept the room with his warm hazel eyes. There he saw her ... It was Leroy Gibbs' daughter - oh, he had only caught sight of her once, but he had found her so attractive that he could not forget her beautiful face.

The girl was hitting her punching ball as if her life depended on it. She was staring at it, her brows frowned, and her wet, shining lips were curled up as a wild feline hissing at his enemy. She threw a brutal punch, so brutal that the chain from which the punching bag was hanging produced a loud jiggling sound. No one quite noticed her, for the place was almost empty and the few men training here were packed together at the weight section, at the other end of the gym. Rooster took off his thick red boxing gloves, far too busy observing her to keep it up with his training. He ran one of his hands through his sweaty blonde curls, some of them sticking to his temples and forehead.

"Fuuuuuuck you!"

You growled, louder. The violence with which your first hit the bag was so ferocious that the skin on your knuckles -already damaged by one full hour of enraged boxing- broke open. Bradley thought you would stop beating that poor punching bag now that you wounded yourself, but you kept hitting it again and again. Blinded by a destructive rage, your body seemed desensitized to pain. Self-control broke down, you were a wild fire.

If at first the pilot had been intrigued and amused by your determination, he grew worried. Rooster easily recognized the sparkle of hatred that was shining in your teary and infuriated eyes, for he had the same look years ago. He clenched his jaw as he noticed you smearing your blood all over the punching ball with your wounded knuckles - he was torn between conflicting feelings. Somehow, your problems were your business, not his. His life was already busy enough and, to be true, he had his own mishaps to deal with. But, his inner voice reminded him of the time he had been like her - lost, filled with rage and sadness. He would have loved someone to take care of him. Or just someone to tell him that everything will be fine, at least. Rooster sighed and walked towards you.

"I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!"

You hissed through your teeth. Sweat burning your eyes, blood dripping from your hands, you growled again and punched the bag with all your remaining strength, the movement directly coming from your whole shoulder. Yet, your knuckles never met the smooth surface of the bag, for someone had grabbed your elbow and forced you to stop. Surprised, you turned and glared at the man who was holding your arm firmly.

"Hey, calm down girl." Bradley's deep voice was candy-coated with an indescribable softness. It was the first pet name that came to his head

"Leave me alone!" You hissed again, showing your teeth.

"I know you are angry but you are bleeding."

His words pulled you out of your blinding hatred. You blinked several times, chasing away the beads of sweat that had formed on your eyelashes. Then, your eyes looked where Rooster's irises of honey pools were staring at. Red and warm blood was oozing from slits on each of your knuckles. As soon as your brain realized it was your hand, an unpleasant tingling pain blossomed at their spot. You winced, then looked at the tall blonde and curly man that was in front of you. Rooster gently released your arm.

"Nevermind." You chased away his hand with a hasty movement and turned around, back to him. You really did not want to talk at the moment.

Rooster hesitated: should he leave you? He shook his head. Something had attracted him, something that he had seen in your eyes. Your pain and his were similar. This sole observation was enough to convince him he was taking the right decision. No matter what happened, he would be there for you.

"Are you sure you're good?"

Six words.

One deep yet caring voice.

It was all it took for tears of anger to overflow.

Rooster gently pressed one of his large, warm, and calloused hands on your shoulder. Looking at you with concern, the pilot's fingers closed around your clavicle to anchor his presence. He was there, and he wanted you to feel it.

"There, it's okay."

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Don't ask me what I'm doing. Can't be productive today so I wanted to write a little blurb with reader as an angry brawler girl, a good boxer, and Gibb's daughter.

Jake and Bug

Just a series of oneshots all about Jake Seresin and 'Bug' Mitchell

Overall warnings: Smut, daddy kink, sub-space, age gap, fingering, virginity taking, p in v, cockwarming

Virginity

Interruption Part Two

Fashion Show

Tired Jake

Cockwarming

SOA MASTERLIST!

In this list you´ll find all my stories. I'm currently working on four stories [you can find more on Wattpad], all of them Sons of Anarchy fanfictions called SKIN AND BONES, SUMMER NIGHTS, GONE WITH THE SIN and A LITTLE LOST. English is not my main language! So please, if you see any mistakes that bother you, just let me know. I'm not a proffesional author so my stories are far from perfect. I do this because it's fun and relaxing and because I love writing. You can also find my stories on Wattpad under the same username, there are a lot more fanfics of mine online than on here.

Disclaimer for SKIN AND BONES, SUMMER NIGHTS, GONE WITH THE SIN and A LITTLE LOST; I don't own any of the SOA characters nor the original storyline. All the rights go to Kurt Sutter and the other producers of the show. I do, however, own my original characters and the added storylines I come up with.

Warning⚠️; 18+ only! All stories will have mature content in it, which means that there will be detailed sexual content, violence, blood and gore, domestic violence, sensitive topics, mental health issues etc. If any of these topics will be mentioned or written out in detail, there will be an extra trigger warning in this particular chapter.

SKIN AND BONES

Happy Lowman x fem! oc

ALL CHAPTERS HERE!

A LITTLE LOST

Happy Lowman x fem!oc

ALL CHAPTERS HERE!

SUMMER NIGHTS

Happy Lowman x fem!oc

ALL CHAPTERS HERE!

GONE WITH THE SIN

Happy Lowman x fem!oc

ALL CHAPTERS HERE!

TRAIN WRECK

Happy Lowman x fem!oc

ALL CHAPTERS HERE!

BOULEVARD OF BROKEN DREAMS

Jax Teller x fem!oc

ALL CHAPTERS HERE!

SOA HALLOWEEN AND CHRISTMAS

Happy Lowman and Jax Teller One Shots

MASTERLIST HERE!

masterlist header and divider by; @saradika-graphics

I just wanna say thank you to the people who continuously write for The PITT.

Thank you for feeding my obsession! I love you all 🥰

warning: pure angst (there will be a fluffy part 2 lol), not proofread, age gap (think 28 and 49), smut in part 2

summary: jack's insistence on pulling away from you finally caused you to break. that, combined with an unlucky day full of bad outcomes, had you visiting jack's favorite spot.

word count: 1.8k

part 2 (coming soon)

"you're in my spot."

the humorous quip had you scoffing to yourself, but you remained stuck to your spot, not bothering to turn around to find the man who had caused you to end up on that roof.

noting your silence, jack walked a few more steps, leaning on the rail as he looked at your back, pursing his lips at your silence. he took a moment to think about what to say next, being somewhat aware of your current mood and disfavor towards him at the moment.

he hummed, leaning closer, attempting to enter your sideview, but not even getting a bone thrown at him from you.

"you wanna talk, kid?," he tried, knowing you were a fuse about to blow up.

he knew what he'd done. was aware of why you where here, why you had been icing him out all week — hell, he was even aware of why you'd entered a request to switch shifts (information courtesy of michael robinavitch).

he'd fucked up. massively.

and even though he'd been aware of it even as he'd done it, he still thought it was for the best. looking out for you was something that came naturally to him, ever since the moment you'd transferred into the pitt as a second year resident.

you were a force to be reckoned with, that much he knew upon a first meeting. you'd overstayed way past your shift, insisting on finishing up a case you'd been on all day. that was when he came in, flouncing in with all his night-shift swag and immediately tapping robby out so he could take his place as attending for the night.

despite it being your first week there, you moved around the place with a practiced ease. this wasn't your first rodeo with emergency medicine, even opening up to jack about your past in healthcare as he taught you a procedure.

you ended up working a double shift that day, with jack unable to stop dragging you with him to even more procedures. he felt bad about it afterwards (maybe even a little flustered at how much he enjoyed working with you upon a first meeting), losing track of time and not realizing how overworked you'd already been.

and so you grew even closer. jack found himself trading his usual night shift and showing up whenever he predicted you'd be working. he had a flexible schedule, being allowed to clock in whenever extra hands were needed or simply switching shifts with robby and shen every so often.

his change in pace wasn't really questioned at first. jack was a workaholic through and through, so it wasn't out of character for him to be found working at odd hours of the day. the one difference to be found was his newfound habit to gravitate towards you, quietly insistent on being the one to drag you along with him for cases he thought you'd find interesting, keeping you close and teaching you everything he knew.

it was when others took notice of this that jack began to have problems. problems with himself, mainly.

it started with a passing comment from dana. something about how his 'work wife' had arrived earlier and was waiting for him. that received a chuckle from him and a furrowed brow towards dana.

that wasn't so bad. mel had earned the title of langdon's protege as soon as he came back from rehab and no one really batted an eye. the same could be said about robby and whitaker. you weren't an exception, so jack didn't think too much of it.

but then came a comment from santos, who'd raised her hand and stepped forward with excitement in her eyes at the opportunity of intubating a patient, claiming garcia had crowned her the best of the newcomers. but she was interrupted by jack, who immediately reached out to you with a scalpel in hand, almost as if it were second nature to him to entrust you with it.

santos had responded to this with a scoff, muttering something complaint about him favoring you every time. her comment got a whispered 'yeah' from whitaker and even an awkward nod from mohan, making you falter in confidence as you followed jack's directions.

what had broken the camel's back, though, was when even robby made a comment on your attachment to each other a week prior.

upon his arrival, jack began looking around, steps slow as he walked into the ER. the place was pretty quiet for an emergency room, so it was easy for jack to become distracted, not realizing what he was looking for until he was snapped out of his distracted state by someone clearing their throat in front of him.

looking up, he found a smug robby leaning against the nurse's station, not speaking up until jack snapped with a 'what?'

"looking for her, huh?" robby asked, taking a few steps towards abbot.

"what- who?" but jack knew who.

robby slapped an arm across jack's shoulders, pulling him in as they walked together further into the ER, leaning in closer before speaking.

"you have a crush on her or something, man? its- it's fine if you do, i mean, who am i to judge? i'm with heather, so-"

but jack cut him off, a little snappier than he ever liked to be, specially with robby.

"that's nonsense, robby. i- nevermind, i'm going to go check if mohan's got anything for me," he pulled away abruptly, speeding up his movements as he disappeared from robby's view.

it was a rare emotion to arise within jack, but he felt mortified at the implication. but it was mostly out of denial. that much he realized.

it had never been his intention to get so close, to form any sort of reputation with you.

he cared too much about you, about your talent, your future, you, to do this. not once had he stopped to analyze his feelings towards you, to think of why he gravitated towards you so much, but now that robby had snapped his bubble, it all made sense.

immediately, he pushed it all down. he put on a cold front, denying himself even a single moment to think about what this all meant. not once did he allow himself to stop and think about his feelings for you. this wasn't supposed to happen, so he wouldn't let it even begin.

he began pulling away from you after that, ignoring any mention of you brought up by either robby or dana. he started to turn to other residents, earning a pair of wide eyes from santos when he stretched his hand past you and in her direction to hand her the scalpel.

he'd even stopped approaching you altogether, no longer making casual conversation with you or purposely clocking in at the same hours as you — which had no effect at first, as you'd tried matching your shifts to his too, a realization that made him feel like an even bigger asshole at shutting you down so abruptly.

it had all been done in silence.

your relationship had formed through an unspoken compatibility, growing almost instantly into a mutual infatuation with one another, never assumed as anything more than platonic, but silently working its way towards more than that. the end of your 'relationship' had also been silent, with him pulling away without a single word, leading you to eventually do the same, both with apprehension and regret.

jack could tell that he had hurt you from that very first time he walked past you in the halls, opting to go straight into work rather than even say good morning to you. and his cold behavior only continued to expand. you gave up trying after a week, beginning to avoid him in return and looking to other attendings for guidance rather than him.

and it could've ended there, had jack abbot not been a huge hypocrite.

because the moment you began to pull away, the second you gave him his own treatment in return, jack came crawling back.

he tried to be subtle about it, asking you leading questions about cases and even checking in on you after harsh outcomes. he extended an olive branch, hoping that you could at least go back to cordialities, but you weren't receptive to him anymore. and he really couldn't blame you.

after two weeks of you freezing him out, he couldn't handle it anymore — nor could he handle robby and collins' looks of pity any time you'd walk past him without even a glance.

so when he saw you heading upstairs, taking those stairs that always led him to a dangerous flirtation with life and death, he followed behind you without thinking twice.

"kid, please," he spoke up again after no response from you.

"what, now you wanna talk?" you scoffed in a tone he'd never heard from you.

you were known to be assertive, sure, but you were sunshine while he was a storm. specially with him, always smiles and blushy cheeks any time he'd praise your hard work an intellect — and sometimes even when he merely looked at you.

"kid, listen-"

"no"

you turned to him abruptly, which was when he finally saw the glossiness of your eyes. your lips were plumper than usual, as if you'd been licking them a lot. the tip of your nose was slightly swollen, with a sniffle only confirming his suspicions — you'd been crying.

you'd lost someone today. it had taken a long battle, one that you ended up losing. but jack knew your tears weren't solely about that. he made up a good percentage of that equation.

"you don't get to choose when i'm of use to you," you continued, pointedly, "you can't fucking play with my emotions like this."

his jaw clenched and unclenched, admittedly shocked by you snapping so suddenly. though he knew it was a long time coming.

"kid, i- i never meant to."

you laughed ironically, looking down at the floor and shaking your head in disbelief, "you knew what was happening. you- you knew how i felt. there's no way you didn't," you paused, swallowing vile before looking at him with some hesitation, "and i knew how you felt too."

he went to speak, only to be interrupted by you.

"you were just a fucking coward."

it stung more than he wanted to admit.

"so, no, doctor abbot, we are not friends, we are barely even colleagues. you don't get to come 'check up on me' when it's convenient to you. stay out of my way and i'll stay out of yours," you leaned down, surpassing the railing and making it to his side, "that's what you wanted, isn't it?"

your eyes were full of bitterness, eyeing him with anger he'd never imagined from you.

he had no chance to respond before you walked away, leaving him alone on the roof, the place he frequented the most before ever meeting you.