Pairing: Jack Abbot x You
Summary: Part three of infected. In which you and Jack exchange stories while in quarantine. Lots of fun bantering ensues, and you find yourself falling for your attending.
Note: this fic is told in x reader fashion but you do have a backstory and a last name (Reid). So my reader is kind of an OC. Your backstory is that you were a sick child with a heart condition who spent a lot of time in hospital. You have a scar on your chest, and your dad left you as a child.
You weren’t sure how much time had passed, as you’d turned your back to the clock on the wall. You knew that if you watched it, the time would only go slower.
But it had been long enough for the room to settle into something quiet, an easy silence stretching between the two of you. Jack had turned the lights off long ago, waggling his eyebrows with an offhand remark about how he looked better in the dark. You’d only rolled your eyes, but appreciated that he’d noticed the light bothering you nonetheless.
The door blocked off the sounds of the hall, leaving you even calmer, no longer able to hear shouts and orders of the hospital staff.
You were now sitting cross legged on your bed, back against the wall, picking absent mindedly at a loose thread in your hospital blanket. Your head still ached, but it wasn’t so bad now, the quiet and dim room providing some relief.
The curtain between you and Jack was wide open. You hadn’t been able to come up with a good reason to close it, and Jack hadn’t seemed to want to close it. And it wasn’t like the curtain would provide much separation anyway. It was paper thin and short.
Across from you, Jack sat in his own bed, one of his legs stretched out, the other crossed over his ankle. It seemed like the lighting and quiet of the room had also done a number on him. He seemed different now. Quieter. You supposed he was tired.
You just watched him for a moment, admiring the lines and shadows on his handsome face. You noticed a slight bit of silver stubble on his jaw and smiled at the sight. The lines around his eyes seemed deeper in this lighting, and you could make out a slight dimple in his cheek.
Okay, so maybe you’d watched him for a second longer than was strictly necessary.
His green gaze flicked up to yours, and you looked away quickly, your face burning at being caught.
“You know you really should take a picture. It’ll last longer.” He smirked.
“I bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” You snarked, face flaming at being caught.
“I mean, I wouldn’t mind posing for you. Though, I should warn you, I do photograph best nude. Really captures my essence.” He grinned, that dimple appearing.
You barked out a laugh at that, unable to help the noise.
“What?” He asked, suddenly sounding self conscious.
You continued to laugh, covering your face with your hands. “No- no- it’s nothing. It’s just-”
“It’s what?” You practically feel his confusion.
“It just-” you could barely get the words out, “it just reminds me of something Trinity told me. About you and-” you gestured vaguely at him, “Yoga.” You finished.
He furrowed his brows. “Yoga?”
A final giggle escaped you as you nodded.
You remembered a conversation you’d had with Trinity when she’d stayed over, drunk as a skunk, talking about how Robby had once made a joke to her about Abbot doing nude yoga. You didn’t know whether her heavily intoxicated mind had made that up, or if Robby had been joking, or if he’d been serious. Either way, you were now currently picturing Jack Abbot doing the downward dog, completely nude at sunrise.
Then a look of realization passed over his face. “Robby.” He breathed.
You bit your lip to hide your smile.
“So, is it true? Do you really do nude yoga at sunrise?” You asked with a shit eating grin.
“I guess you’ll just have to come over one day and see for yourself.” He murmured, and your stomach fluttered at his words.
You sputtered. “That’s not an answer!”
“Aren’t some things best left to the imagination?” He asked, grinning.
“Not what I’m imagining.” You pretended to shudder.
He chuckled softly, and the noise did things to your insides.
“You’re seriously not going to tell me?” You asked after a moment.
“Nope. What can I say? I’m a man of great mystery.” His grin was wide.
You shook your head softly. “Great annoyance maybe. Great arrogance definitely. Great pain in my-” you muttered under your breath.
“Hey! You weren’t exactly calling me a pain earlier.” He interjected.
You choked on a breath as the memory of his tongue between your legs hit you. He had a point.
“That’s what I thought,” he said, smirking.
You rolled your eyes at him once again, going back to picking at your blanket, heat creeping up your neck.
Silence settled over the two of you, and you could feel him watching you. Then you felt his gaze shift to your hands, to your restless fingertips as they plucked a loose thread.
“You always this bad at sitting still?” He asked.
“I am sitting still.” You answered, moving your leg up now to rest beneath you, proving his point.
“You keep picking at that blanket.” He noted.
“That’s because this blanket has loose threads. It’s horrible.”
“It’s a hospital bed.” He said, raising a brow at your tone.
“Yeah, and I hate it.” Your tone was firmer.
You weren’t lying. You did hate hospital beds. You’d hated every single one you’d had to ever be in with a burning passion. You’d hated the thin mattresses, the lumpy pillows, the horrible blankets. You hated all of it. You’d especially hated the feeling of being terrified and helpless. Feeling small and weak.
He didn’t say anything for a moment, and it prompted you to look over at him, noting the way he was rubbing his right knee. His pant leg had ridden up, revealing a flash of silver on his shin. He was rubbing the leg with the prosthetic. It must be hurting him. He’d been on it all night, and probably hadn’t had a chance to rest since god knows when. You suddenly felt a pang of guilt.
He’d been hurting, and you’d been so worried about yourself you hadn’t even thought of him. You hadn’t been thinking about how he was feeling with all of this, only how terrified you were. You’d been so selfish. So worried about your immune system and how it could affect you. And then you let him get down on his knees. God, you were so awful. You’d let him.
“Is your leg bothering you?” The question slipped out before you could stop it.
Then you winced, thinking better of it. “Sorry. That’s- that’s none of my business.”
Jack didn’t respond at first, and you looked back over at him. He wasn’t looking at you, no, he was watching a faraway spot ahead of him. Like he wasn’t in the room anymore.
For a second, you thought he would make a joke, or brush it off, or even ignore you. But he startled you when he gave you an honest answer.
“The room’s kinda cold. The cold- it makes it worse sometimes.”
You blinked in shock. You hadn’t been expecting that.
You nodded, even though he wasn’t watching you.
A beat of tense silence passed.
Then his hand rubbed the back of his neck in a nervous way.
“Just an- an old injury.” He sounded almost self conscious, and your heart melted.
“I figured.” You said softly.
He glanced at you, and something flickered in his eyes.
“You know what happened?” He asked.
You hesitated. You didn’t, but you wanted to know, intrusive as that sounded. You sure as hell didn't like people asking about your own scars.
Would he- would he tell you?
“No. No one told me how it…happened.” You shook your head.
The silence stretched. You didn’t add anything, didn’t push, didn’t ask. You would let him tell you in his own time.
He let out a sigh after another moment, like he was gathering up the courage to tell you.
“It happened back in Kandahar. Field tent. Mass casualty.” He said eventually, his eyes becoming distant.
Your fingers stilled against the blanket.
“Someone set off an IED. some homemade bomb. Brought in ten guys all at once. It was a busy night.” He shrugged, like he was talking about a shift here, not a war tent in a foreign country.
Your heart stuttered, and you remained silent as he continued to speak.
“Big piece of shrapnel got caught in my leg. And it’s funny- I didn’t even feel it at first. Adrenaline's such a crazy thing.”
You swallowed. You didn’t think it was such a funny thing.
He still wasn’t looking at you, his eyes faraway.
“I should’ve left. Evac window was doable. I could have made it.” He added.
But he didn’t. You knew it. He didn’t need to say it.
You continued to listen in horror.
“Didn’t seem like the right call at the time.” A muscle ticked in his jaw as he spoke.
“But you stayed.” You whispered.
He heard you all the same. “Yeah.”
“I- I kept working. I couldn’t stop. Stopping would mean- would mean some of my men would die and I…” his voice trailed off.
“Anyway. By the time I couldn’t ignore it anymore, the damage was done.”
Your stomach twisted at the thought of Jack, his leg a bloody mess, attending to his patients in a war tent, ignoring his own pain. And suddenly, you felt something inside you flicker to life. It was more than desire. More than longing. But you pushed the thought deep down.
You glanced down at his leg, as if you could still see the blood, then back up to his face.
“They couldn’t do anything for it?” You asked.
He shook his head. “No. But I managed to save all of my patients that day. If I’d- if I’d left them when I could have, I would have saved my leg, but at least half of my men would have…” he trailed off again.
“Died?” You finished for him.
You didn’t know what to say to that. To that courage. To that sacrifice.
You couldn’t believe he’d shared something like this with you. He was never this…vulnerable and open. He was always sarcastic and teasing, and to see him like this… It chipped away at something inside you.
“If you could, would you change it? Sacrifice your patients for your leg- I mean.” Your question was out before you could stop it.
He looked up at you, his burning gaze on you.
His response caught you off guard.
“If our patient turns out to have meningococcal, and we find out he gave it to us, will you regret saving his life and wish you got out of there sooner?” He asked, deflecting.
You hesitated for a moment. You knew that whatever you said next was important, and would change how he saw you forever. This moment felt fragile, like the wrong answer would break what little connection you had with him permanently and irrevocably.
The answer was simple though. There was only one answer in your heart.
“No.” You said simply. “I’ll never regret saving a life. No matter what it costs me.” You added, lifting your chin.
He nodded, something like approval in his eyes, and you knew you had passed whatever silent test he had given you.
He tapped his leg, knocking his knuckles on the steel.
“I don’t regret it. Never have. Not for one moment.” He told you.
You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak.
“I have other regrets though.” He said after a while, his expression once again far away.
You knew what he was talking about before he even spoke.
“Lost her and my leg in the same year.” He added quietly.
You looked at his bare left hand. He’d taken his ring off in front of you. It felt like years ago, when it had only been weeks since he’d taken that ring off on the rooftop.
He’d told you that you made it easier to forget her.
Your heart broke for the man. The sheer amount of pain he must carry…
You felt nauseous. Your fingers curled in the blanket.
You remembered what Robby had told you about her.
Car crash. Black ice. Jack had worked on her. She had been awake when she’d come in, but she’d also been a mess, and Jack hadn’t been able to save her. And he felt responsible for her death.
You didn’t know what else to say. You didn’t know how to comfort him, how to make this all better. You couldn’t. There was nothing you could do. All you could do was listen, and remind him it wasn’t his fault.
You reached a hand over, your beds close enough to, and rested a hand on top of his left one.
“I’m so sorry-” You whispered.
He shook his head, swallowing loudly, and cut you off.
“Don’t. Don’t do the whole sympathy thing. You hate it just as much as me.”
“I wasn’t-” you protested.
“I know you weren’t trying to. Just…don’t. Please.” You’d never heard him use that word, and it stunned you.
You just nodded, and forced your mouth into a thin line.
A longer silence settled between you then. You felt off balance now. He’d shared something so incredibly personal and intimate, and you felt like it was your turn to share. The only thing is, you didn’t know how. You knew that if you opened up, you would stutter, your voice would do that little thing it always did right before you were about to cry, and you knew you would be exposing yourself to him.
You drew your hand back, going back to fidgeting.
But hadn’t he done the same for you? Cracked himself open, letting you see his soft underbelly by baring his deepest vulnerabilities.
You looked over, noting that now he was twisting his own blanket uncomfortably, as if he too, felt awkward and unbalanced.
You knew it would be messy, and hard, but you also knew you had to try.
That was all he could ask of you. To try.
That was why you said what you did.
“I hate hospitals.” You said, shifting so that you were now sitting upright, your back against the wall.
That got his attention, and he turned to you. “They’re no six flags.” He forced a half grin.
A small half smile graced your face for a moment too, but it was gone when you spoke again. “I mean it though. I really hate them.”
“And yet, you chose to work in one.” He gestured vaguely around the room with a hand.
A beat of silence passed before you continued.
His expression shifted slightly.
You nodded, your eyes dropping back to your hand where it picked at your blanket.
“Spent more time in hospital beds than my own for a while.” You admitted quietly.
Your tone was light as you forced it to stay steady. “I got used to it after a while. The loneliness.” You forced another smile onto your face.
That was the one recurring theme that had stuck with you your whole life. Loneliness. You’d never been able to shake it. Even when you were surrounded by people, you still felt alone. Even when you were in a hospital bed, surrounded by doctors and nurses, by your sister and your mom, by therapists and school friends alike, you felt like no one had ever really seen you. And everyone had always left before they got the chance to ever really know you.
You were smiling, but Jack was not.
“I was seven when I was diagnosed.” You murmured. Your fingers continued to toy with your blanket, not meeting his eyes.
“I had surgery after surgery. Then there was infection after infection. My dad… he couldn’t take it anymore. He left a few months after I was diagnosed. Haven't seen him since. No matter what I did, there was always some complication. Always seemed to end up back in the hospital for some reason or another.” You added. “Nearly killed me.”
His face changed again, something akin to horror gracing his beautiful features. His face was pale and bloodless.
“You almost died?” He asked, his voice low.
You hesitated, then gave a small nod.
“Twice. One time I actually flatlined. I was nine.”
Absolute deafening, awful, silence fell over the two of you.
You finally looked back at him, finding that his eyes were on you.
“I hated it. Being the patient. Not knowing what was happening. Having everyone look at you like…” your words trailed off.
“Like you might not make it?” He finished for you.
You nodded, swallowing, so glad that he wasn’t making you finish that sentence. And suddenly, you felt so relieved to get this off your chest. You had exposed yourself to him, and he wasn’t judging you, wasn’t pitying you. He just…let you get it out.
“So I figured, if I was going to be stuck in hospitals anyway, I might as well be on the other side of it. Be the healer, not the one who needs healing. It’s less scary that way.”
“Lot of good that’s done me.” You joked, making fun of your current predicament, but it fell flat as you looked around the room.
“Look at me, back in the one place I tried my whole life to escape.” You added to fill the crushing silence.
Jack just watched you, his gaze heavy.
“Cardio?” He asked simply.
“You’re aiming for cardio, aren’t you?”
You nodded. “I would love to specialize in paediatric cardiothoracics, but I feel like that’s a little ambitious.” Your tone was more even now as you thought about the future instead of the past.
“You could do it.” He whispered.
“I know so. You’ll be amazing at it. You’re smart, you’re caring, you’re calming. And you’re easy to talk to. The kids will love you. Parents will too.” Your heart swelled ten times its size at his complements.
You didn’t know how to take them. It was too much. Too many.
You were quiet for a moment.
“Just take the compliment, Reid.” He said, sensing your hesitation.
“Thank you.” You nodded once, not meeting his eyes as you felt your eyes fill with tears.
He hadn’t pitied you. He hadn’t apologized. He hadn’t felt sorry for you or given you sympathy.
You were just two souls sharing your pain with one another.
Then another silence settled between the two of you. But this time it was much more comfortable. Like you were both exhausted after revealing these vulnerabilities to each other. It had taken it out of you, and you now felt raw and exposed.
You shifted in your bed, this time laying on your back. You stopped fidgeting, stopped moving, just rolling over to lay on your side so that you were now facing Jack. He did the same in his own bed. Now you were both opposite each other. Both facing each other. Both watching.
You didn't say anything. There was nothing either of you could say to make it better. All you could do was just see each other. To be in each other's company.
And for once- for once- you didn’t feel so crushingly alone.
Because you’d found someone who truly saw you.
Time continued to pass in a strange way. Here, in the room with Jack, it felt like you were disconnected from reality. It was like you were in this little bubble with him, where there were no screaming patients, no gossiping nurses, and no one else. It was just you and him.
Neither of you moved for a long while, just content to watch each other.
Jack had curled slightly as he laid on his side, one arm tucked beneath his head.
You didn’t know whether it was the bed, your position, your lack of sleep this past week, or the dim lighting, but you felt your eyelids growing heavy.
For the first time today, you finally felt tired. Maybe a part of you felt safe enough to entertain the idea of sleeping in here, where it was cool and dark.
Your headache was fading slowly, the sharpness of the pain alleviating, and you fought the droop of your eyelids. You didn’t want to sleep. Robby could be back anytime with new information, and you wanted to be awake to hear it the second your results were back, and you just knew Jack wouldn’t wake you, so you had to keep yourself awake.
So, instead of sleeping, you began to recite the fifty states of America, along with their capitals, in alphabetical order in an attempt to stay awake. You’d made it to Nebraska, and was struggling to remember the capital, when Jack interrupted your train of thought.
“Why are you thinking so hard?” He asked, his thin mattress squeaking as he shifted.
“Am I not allowed to think?” You raised a brow.
“I’d prefer it if you didn’t. Besides, what are you thinking so hard about anyway?” He sounded genuinely curious now, moving to now rest his head on his elbow.
“Nothing you need to concern yourself with.” You said childishly.
You let out a slight giggle.
“C’mon, you’re seriously not going to tell me?” He prompted.
You considered him a moment, feeling slightly embarrassed at your trailing thoughts.
“What’s the capital of Nebraska?” You asked.
He blinked in shock. “What?”
“That’s what I was thinking about.” You told him.
“You’re alone in a small room with me, we’re in the dark, we could have a deadly disease and are waiting on possibly life changing test results, and you’re seriously worried about the capital of Nebraska?” He didn’t sound judgemental, just curious.
Your face flushed, and you prayed the light was dim enough that he didn’t see it.
“Yeah?” You answered shyly.
He huffed a laugh, covering his face with a hand. “You’re unbelievable.”
“Do you know the capital or not? It’s really bugging me.” Your tone was deadly serious, and that made him laugh harder.
He laughed for another moment, his belly moving with the sound, and you couldn’t help but smile at the sight of him happy.
He was a man who had experienced such loss and suffering in his life, with losing both his wife and his leg, but he still managed to smile and laugh. You admired him for it. It took strength to continue to choose happiness and to have hope even after such unimaginable loss.
After his chuckles subsided, he finally put you out of your misery. “I think it's Lincoln. Why?”
“Ah hah!” You slapped your palm against your forehead. “Lincoln! How could I forget!”
He furrowed his brows. “Do I get to know why you desperately needed to know that? Are you planning a getaway as soon as we get discharged from here, or do you just enjoy random bits of trivia?”
“Can’t it be both?” You deflected.
He grinned, picking up on your need for more banter, more distraction and teasing. And you knew he needed it just as much as you did if the look in his eye was any indication.
“Oh? Do I get to join you on your impromptu getaway to Lincoln?” He asked, grinning.
“Oh, I don’t know, maybe the fact that we’re in this whole mess together, and I also could use some time away?” He shot back.
“And? Don’t you think we’ve had enough time together?” You teased.
“Never.” His one word answer had butterflies erupting in your stomach.
A beat of silence passed.
“Come on, you’re seriously not sick of me yet?” You asked, propping your own head on your hand.
“Give it time.” Your tone was light, but you were serious. Everyone left you eventually, growing tired of your company sooner or later.
“Not enough time in the world.” He said just as lightly, and your heart stuttered. “Don’t tell me you’re already sick of me, Reid?” He added playfully.
The retort came quickly to your tongue, and you stopped yourself the second before it came out. Usually, you would give some sharp retort, some snappy and rude remark that was pure sarcasm, but after what you’d shared and how he’d treated you, after his kind words and gentle hands, you found yourself wanting to be honest. You hesitated before you answered, biting your lip nervously.
“No. No, I’m not sick of you, Jack. I don’t think I could ever be sick of you.” You said quietly, flicking your eyes back to your hands.
He was silent for a second, clearly not expecting your response. Like he was taken aback by your honesty.
“Maybe my trip to Lincoln could be for two. That is- if we ever get out of this place.” You added, sighing as you looked around the room.
“We’ll get out of here. Trust me.” He said, drawing your eyes back to his face.
You just nodded, a tight lipped smile crossing your face. You went back to reciting the states and capitals, needing to take your mind off your reason for being in here.
The room fell quiet again before he finally glanced towards the clock on the wall behind you.
“You wanna place bets on how long bloodwork’s gonna take? When the lab’s backed up like this it could be hours. Could be fun.” He suggested after a while.
You groaned. You’d just made it to Texas, momentarily distracting yourself. “I had just forgotten about what we were in here for! How dare you break my concentration! Now you’re never going to come with me to Lincoln.” You yelled in joking seriousness.
“Dang it! And I’ve always wanted to go to Nebraska too.” He teased, his eyes dancing.
You snorted softly at his sarcasm, shaking your head. “You’re such an idiot.”
“And yet, you’re still inviting me on your Nebraska road trip.” He pointed at you, smirking.
“I never said you specifically could come! I said my trip might be for two.”
“Can I come on your trip?” He asked with a grin.
“Are you serious?” You retorted.
“Well, you didn’t say no.” He smiled like a cat toying with his meal.
“Okay, well I’m saying no now. How’s that?” You narrowed your eyes as you spoke.
“Too late. I already booked the time off work and got a house sitter. We’re going.” He quipped.
“You’re ridiculous.” You rolled your eyes, smiling the whole time.
“Hey, missy, that kind of talk will not slide when we’re on our road trip.” He said, pointing a joking finger at you and using a fake stern tone that made you giggle.
“I’m so leaving you in Iowa.” You sighed.
“So you admit I’m joining you on this road trip!”
“Only you would take me telling you that I’m going to abandon you on the side of the road in Iowa as a good thing.” You were both grinning ear to ear now as you teased each other.
“I gotta take the wins where I can get them, sweetheart. Besides, I’m sure the trip to Iowa will be lovely.” He winked at you. He fucking winked, and you felt your face warm.
You shook your head, rolling yourself onto your back, covering your face with a hand. You split your fingers slightly, glancing at Jack through your slitted fingers. He wasn’t glancing at you, but at the clock behind you.
“Hey! Don’t watch the clock! It’ll only make the time go slower!” You shouted, pointing at him accusingly.
“What? It’s not like me looking is going to affect your own perception of time.” He defended.
“Yes it will!” You shot back.
“Please, Reid, tell me how me looking at a clock is going to make your time go slower- time, which quite famously cannot slow.” He arched a silver brow.
“I- I-” you sputtered, and he waited for you expectantly.
“You’re- you’re not even making it to Iowa. I’m ditching you before we even leave Pittsburgh!” You stammered indignantly.
He just chuckled in response.
You couldn’t help but join in, a small chuckle escaping you too.
His eyes flicked towards you at the sound, something in his expression softening slightly.
The room once again quieted as your giggles subsided.
“You look less pale.” He said after a moment.
“Oh. That’s…good.” You didn’t know what to say to that.
He opened his mouth, presumably to make another stupid comment, when a knock sounded on the door.
Your chest tightened, and you looked at Jack, to see his expression had shifted too.
“Come in.” You called, forcing your voice to steady, needing to get this over with.
The door opened a second later, and Robby stepped inside. He had on a gown and gloves, and a mask covered the bottom half of his face.
From what you could see of his face, he looked tired. There were dark circles around his eyes and his hair was slightly on end. His eyes flicked to you, assessing you. You quickly sat up in bed, Jack doing the same.
“Good afternoon you two.” He greeted.
“It’s afternoon?" You said, gaze flicking to Jack, dumbfounded.
“Doesn’t hurt to check the clock every once in a while now, does it?” Jack threw you a shit eating grin.
You just flipped him off.
Robby just looked between the two of you, slightly confused.
“How are you feeling?” Robby asked you first, moving closer to you.
“Much better.” You admitted.
“The dizziness?” He asked, rolling a chair over to sit in front of you.
“I was barely even dizzy in the first place. I don’t know why you guys are making such a big deal out of this. Jack was exposed too, you know.”
Robby just gave you a flat look, and Jack made a quiet sound from the other bed.
Jack gave a very pointed look to your pants. Your face flamed.
You immediately narrowed your eyes at him. “Don’t.” you warned him.
Robby looked back and forth between the two of you. “Don’t what?”
“Nothing.” You answered quickly.
Jack tried and failed to suppress a smile.
“Why do I feel like I’m missing something?” Robby asked, narrowing his eyes.
“Because you missed something.” Jack answered him.
“Don’t you dare start.” You warned seriously.
“I’m not starting anything,” he replied coolly.
“You absolutely are.” You snapped.
“I’ve just had a three vehicle pile up this morning. I do not have the energy for whatever this is. Reid, how dizzy were you earlier? We need to know so we can compare it to now to monitor improvement. We need to know if your symptoms are advancing.” Robby said, sighing as he rubbed his tired eyes.
“She got really dizzy changing back into her scrubs earlier.” Jack reported.
Your head whipped towards him. “Jack!”
“You promised you would say anything!”
“I promised I wouldn’t explain how your pants mysteriously reappeared. Very different promise.” He stated calmly.
“I’m going to snap your pinky like a twig!” You yelled, now fuming.
He quickly hid his hands behind his back as you stood.
“Hey now, let’s not get hasty-” he began.
“You sneaky little-” you cut him off, yelling as Robby put a hand on your shoulder.
Robby’s hand on your shoulder pushed you down slightly, forcing you to sit back on the bed. The hand was gentle but firm.
“There’s so much to unpack here that I’m not even going to start. Jack, how dizzy was she?” Robby turned to the other man now.
“She got lightheaded I think. She nearly fell flat on her face multiple times.” Jack reported diligently.
“I did not nearly fall over.” You lied.
“She also walked into a wall on the way here.” He added.
“That wall came out of nowhere!”
Robby pinched the bridge of his nose. “Thank you, Jack, I’m getting the picture. Reid, how are you now?”
You stood again, steady on your feet. The wave of dizziness you were expecting never came.
“Never better.” You said simply, shooting a look in Jack's direction, telling him you were not done with him and he was going to pay for snitching.
Robby gave you a disbelieving look but nodded.
“So I would say you’ve had a significant improvement in your symptoms then.” Robby said, moving to your chart to jot down his observations.
While he wrote, you glared at Jack. He only smirked right back, his handsome face contorted by the lines around his eyes.
“Jack, any symptoms to report? Robby asked without even a glance in his direction.
“None yet, boss. I'll keep you updated though.”
“Im sure you will.” Robby replied dryly, his pen scribbling.
‘I’m going to kill you’ you mouthed silently to Jack. He only waved his fingers at you in response, his pinkies in particular.
“Okay. I should give you guys an update before the two of you derail me completely.” Robby said, drawing your attention back to him.
And just like that, it felt like a bucket of ice water poured over you. It was like the humor that had been in the room, the banter and joking, was suddenly leeched away. Jack stilled as your heartbeat sped up.
“The preliminary results came back on your patient.” Robby told you, looking between the two of you.
You straightened your spine, taking in a breath.
“It’s not meningococcal.”
Robby's words repeated themselves in your head, over and over, and your breath whooshed out of you. Your entire body went weak with relief, and you suddenly felt lightheaded.
“Thank fuck.” Jack breathed.
Robby nodded, then continued. “Looks viral. Most likely viral meningitis or another infection. The rash threw everyone initially, but cultures aren’t indicating bacterial.”
Not the one thing that had been weighing heavy on you all day.
It wasn’t the worst case scenario.
You weren't out of the woods yet- a viral infection could still debilitate you- but it might not be as lethal. It could still make you horribly ill, but your chances of surviving were a lot higher.
You pressed a hand against your chest, trying to calm your breathing.
Jack noticed immediately, and his hand reached across the small gap between your beds before you even realized he was moving. His warm fingers wrapped around your hand. The touch was grounding, yet also comforting.
“You okay?” He asked quietly.
“Yeah. Yeah. I just-” you nodded, your voice cracking, “I just really thought we were screwed.” You laughed in a nervous way.
Jack’s thumb gently rubbed the back of your hand. “Hey. It’s going to be okay.” His words were soft, like Robby wasn’t sitting right beside him.
But your eyes were on Jack, even though you could feel Robby's gaze on you, on your face, your hands, Jack's face. Like he was puzzling it out.
Robby cleared his throat after a moment. “You both have to stay here overnight though. Viral meningitis can still become serious if your symptoms progress.” Robby's tone was sharp. Clinical.
You gaped, and Jack nodded.
“Overnight?” You asked slowly, drawing the word out.
“Yeah. Is that a problem?” Robby looked you over.
“Not for me.” Jack interjected.
“You mean, I have to stay here all night…with him?” You indicated to Jack, only looking at Robby now.
“Yeah, that's what I meant, but if you have a problem, I'm sure we can organize other sleeping arrangements?” Robby pointedly looked at your small beds.
You looked at Robby, then the beds, then Jack. Arrogant, annoying, snarky Jack Abbot. His lips were set in a firm line, and his green eyes were confident, but you could see beneath that confidence. He was trying to play it cool, and you knew your answer would either boost his ego or kill him. You could see the man beneath the false bravado, beneath the mask of arrogance. You could see the man that hid behind sarcastic remarks and flirty comments.
Because beneath it all, this was the same man who had saved a dozen men in a tent in Kandahar while he was bleeding out. This was the man who had worked on his dying wife, who felt responsible for her death. The very same man who had given you his own car keys to escape a bad date, who had comforted you and held your hand when you were frozen with terror at the idea that you could be infected, who had helped you put your pants on without judgement. You couldn’t imagine going to another room, with a cold bed and an even colder atmosphere. You didn’t want to be alone. Not again.
It seemed like the room was silent for a moment, the two men waiting patiently for your answer of where you would be staying for the night.
You knew your answer before you spoke the words. You sucked in a breath, then spoke, trying to shake off the urge to make a snarky comment. No. Now was not the time for wit or sarcasm. Now was the time for honesty, and if you had to be honest with yourself, then you also had to be honest with them.
“No.” You answered. “No, that's okay. I don’t mind staying here for the night. With-with Jack.”
Tags (people who commented on part two wanting more! <3) @abbotslefttit @emma8895eb @bluelemonbirdie @branika182 @wandamaxim0f
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