pushing it down and praying
your second night shift started as draining as you imagined it would since you clocked out of the previous shift. strolling in through the ambulance bay with your phone in one hand and your cute pink thermos full of green tea in the other, you’re only three steps into the department before lena spots you. she looks way too cheerful given the current state of the emergency department.
“perfect timing,” she smiles, pulling you in for a hug over the nurses station before you have the chance to greet her. she smooths down the sleeves of your undershirt as she pulls away. “in for a treat tonight,” she sighs.
paramedics lined the bay, all waiting to hand patients over, whilst nurses darted themselves from one room to the other balancing blood tubes, medication trays and half-finished charts. the patient screen had new names rolling in before anyone had the chance to discharge the previous ones.
“please tell me this is the aftermath,” you plead lena, resting your head in the palms of your hands against the desk. she took no sugarcoating in shaking her head at you.
“four ambulances in fifteen minutes, two chest pains and motorcycle accident,” she listed off from the computer in front of her, throwing you a sympathetic look. “should take a look in the waiting room.”
“rather not,” you feel yourself quiver at the thought of what’s to come of your night. instead, you politely dismiss yourself from the nurses station and make your way over to your locker to throw all of your things away for the night, not forgetting to take out the sandwich mel had spent her time packing for you. the two of you have very similar and particular tastes so she’s been offering to make you food for night shift since you broke the news to her.
it’s impossible to say no to her.
bringing the pink lunchbox into the breakroom, you slip it into the middle shelf when a voice startles you.
“take it that’s not hospital catering,” jack spoke without looking up from the clipboard balancing on his knee. his reading glasses sit on the bridge of his nose, a pen tucked behind his ear as he flicks through patient charts. you hadn’t seen him when you walked in, too in your own world to notice the handsome man sitting at the table.
“oh, no, definitely not,” you chuckle as you close the fridge door and sit in the chair opposite the older man. “can’t eat that stuff,” faint memories resurface from when you first started working the pitt, and swore to yourself it would be more convenient to eat the hospital’s food instead of spending time packing your own.
it took a worryingly grey chicken wrap to throw you off that mindset.
“it isn’t that bad,” he chuckles, folding his glasses up and placing them on the table. the patient chart was now closed. his full attention turned to you.
“have you actually eaten it?” you question him, raising one of your eyebrows.
“not in about ten years, no.”
“therefore, your opinion is invalid,” you shrug at him, a grin pulling at your mouth. you can feel the heat travelling from the fire in your belly to your cheeks as he keeps his focus on you, not once returning back to the papers he was so invested in before you walked in.
a silence creeps between the two of you, something surprisingly comfortable. you haven’t been around jack a whole lot since working at the pitt, mainly only passing each other during changeover or catching glimpses of him when he’d come in with the SWAT team after a callout. you know only the basics of jack abbot. he’s worked here for a long time, and he’s a highly respected doctor.
despite all that, the silence sitting between you two feels good, and somewhat intimate? the way his eyes don’t falter from yours, or the way you can ever so clearly see the veins in his hands shifting beneath his skin as he absently rubs his scrub pants. it all brings an unknown feeling of need within you.
now you’re just being stupid.
he’s just existing in this conversation, or lack thereof.
“you’ve not been here long, right?” jack breaks the silence, and the eye contact as he suddenly decides to take much more interest in the table between you.
“i’ve been here…” you take a second to think. “just over a year.”
“just a baby,” you can hear him mutter under his breath, maybe not intended to be heard by you. he shakes his head, looking back at you with a glint in his eyes. “you’re doing good around here. i’ve already told you but, i mean it.”
something in your chest tightens as he speaks, the way the praise just slips from his tongue like he really means what he’s saying.
“it means something coming from you,” you reply back, picking at the skin around your thumb as anxiety suddenly creeps up your body. you feel his eyes on you, not wavering away.
ever since starting in the pitt, you have gone above and beyond to impress your seniors. every chart is checked twice, if not three times before sending it through the system. you practiced every patient presentation in your head over and over until you perfected it before presenting it to anyone. every mistake, or possible mistake, replayed in your head on the drive home. you needed to prove to everyone that you deserve to be there.
it started way back in medical school where you spent sleepless nights between the library and the practice lab. all of your notes were rewritten a dozen times until your handwriting all became a blur. you craved the praise from your professors more than anything else.
it’s like you’ve been waiting for someone to tell you you’re best isn’t actually good enough for years.
before any of you had a chance to say something else, the breakroom door opened without so much as a knock.
“there you are,” lena walks in with a smile bigger than the cheshire cats, holding a clipboard in her one of her hands. leaning against the counter, a glint of something in her eyes as she looked at you. you’re already dreading the gossip she’ll attempt to pry from your very tired hands mid shift. “sorry to interrupt your little…” she pauses, shifting her gaze between you and jack. “...break.”
you narrow your eyes at her, shaking your head ever so slowly. jack remains blissfully unaware of the silent conversation you and lena are having.
“what you got?” he shoots at her, turning his full attention away from you and onto her.
“patient in room eighteen, just came in.”
“we’ll be there,” he nods at the older woman who quickly smirks at you before dropping the clipboard on the table and making her way out of the room.
the second the door swings shut you let out a long, defeated sigh. you know you’re not the most secretive person. every emotion you feel finds it’s way to your face before you can stop it, and judging by the warmth on your face, lena had caught it. you’re just praying jack doesn’t notice it.
“twenty-six year old, nancy castle…” you begin your patient presentation, reading aloud from the clipboard in your hand. you can feel jack’s stare burning into you from the other side of the bed, watching you contently. he’s silent, standing with his weight on one leg and his hands shoved in the pockets of his scrub pants
patient presentations in front of attendings was difficult, invoking a new type of anxiety you hadn’t ever felt before. when you first started at the pitt, robby was relentless. every presentation was picked apart, not exactly cruelly, but thoroughly.
stop reading directly from your notes.
lead with the important details.
at first, it felt like he was targeting you. you’d spent endless hours complaining about him to the group, and then reciting notes in your bathroom mirror. you eventually realised that he was, very roughly, looking out for you and it did make you better.
jack is so different from robby. he doesn’t sigh, or cough when you’ve said something unnecessary.
his aura feels suffocating, in a way that makes you want to either rip his clothes off or run away and never see him again.
“came in with right lower quadrant pain,” you clear your throat, straightening your posture at the same time. it’s only jack’s cough that pulls you back into the moment. “nausea since this morning. bloods have been taken, we’re still waiting on a urine sample.” glancing up from your notes, you meet jack’s eyes. he shoots you a small nod, telling you to carry on. “no previous abdominal surgeries. pain’s significantly worsened through out the day.” the room falls quiet, you find yourself meeting jack’s face again for some kind of confirmation.
“what do you think?” he questions, rubbing the stubble on his chin.
glancing between your notes and nancy, you think. “i…appendicitis is high on my list.”
“location of the pain, nausea and the way it’s progressive,” you explain. “but, i’d want to rule out gynae causes too.”
“good,” he smirks at you as he walks forward, crossing the threshold from his side of the bed to yours. “stop looking at me after every sentence, you’re doing good,” he whispers quietly as he walks passed, taking the clipboard from your hands and you swear you can feel your blood pressure increase by the milliseconds.
you were correct, of course. nancy had appendicitis and when she was reviewed by surgery, they were convinced that she was moments away from it perforating. within the hour, she’d consented, been wheeled upstairs and was handed over to the surgery team.
the quiet satisfaction had little time to settle before the rush of the department carried on.
it isn’t until 3am that the department finally exhaled, not completely but enough that you were able to obtain some quiet time. all patients under your care didn’t need you for the first time all night.
sinking into the chair with a quiet sigh, you slip an airpod into one ear and rest your head against the headrest. the quiet instrumental music barely blocks out the constant beeping of monitors or the phones that non-stop ring all night but it’s enough that you can relax a little. you’re able to close your eyes, not entirely sleeping but definitely resting. all the muscles in your body finally soften for the first time since you walked in through the ambulance bay hours ago.
you’re so absorbed in your makeshift silence that you don’t notice the chair beside you roll, or the familiar weight that settles in it. it isn’t until a gentle tap on your arm that you crack one eye open.
he’s nursing a cup of cheap hospital coffee in his hands and an exhausted smile on his face. there’s something so enduring about how he looks after working endlessly on his feet, his greying hair all pointing in different directions no matter how hard he tries to smooth it out.
“you doin’ alright?” he asks, throwing his head back against the headrest.
“something like that,” you groan, lazily turning your head in his direction. “what time is it?”
“3:08,” he flicks his wrist, the screen of his apple watch lighting up. instead of the time, your attention focuses on a picture of a german shepherd, sitting on a couch with it’s ears perked high.
“can i see?” you ask, sitting up in the chair. all sudden tiredness forgotten about at the mention of something lighthearted, something very rare in this department. “our landlord’s like, a total bitch, and won’t even let us have a fish.”
jack laughed quietly, pulling his phone out of his pocket and dropping his readers to the bridge of his nose. he’s quick to pull up his camera roll which looks like its totally dedicated to his dog.
“his names ranger,” he smiles, almost ear to ear as he shows off what seems to be his baby. he swipes through a collection of pictures.
ranger in the bed of jack’s pickup truck.
his head resting against jack’s prosthetic leg.
cuddling up to jack’s very naked, and very buff chest.
“got him not long after i left service,” he explains, holding his phone out as he continues to swipe through pictures upon pictures of ranger. “he would love you.”
“i think i love him,” you smile up at the older man. this is the first time you’ve seen this side of jack, so relaxed and human. before he can continue sharing stories about his very spoiled dog, he’s called from the speakers to trauma three.
“breaks over,” he sighs, tucking his phone in his pocket and standing up off the chair with a grunt in his voice. “show you some more pictures later, if you’re interested.”
“of course i am, i want to see them all,” you smile at him as you both walk to the trauma rooms of the department.
gracieabrams
gamechangershow
2087
turnnoffyourmind
kianamaiart
yousharknotpass
areudirty
