Chapter 1 Summary: Being Plutarch Heavensbee forbidden child was hard, but Finnick makes it easier.
Tags/Warnings: toxic father, mentions of Finnick being bought (vague), female reader, slowish burn
Word Count: 3.0k
Editor: @sweetcherries123
-.-
7 years ago, 68th Hunger Games Victory Tour
Every winter your father, Plutarch Heavensbee, has hundreds of guests staying at the house, but never anybody interesting. It was nice at first, you were an isolated child so when your father brought people over it was a welcome change of pace, even if none of them knew who you were. Eventually it became something you dreaded, constantly having to be something you weren’t and keeping secrets that weren’t yours became exhausting.
Your father never let you talk to anyone, no one could know who and what you truly were. Your role in the household during these winter months was not as the daughter of the host, but instead as an avox. It was safer for you to be considered a forced laborer than what you truly were, a forbidden child.
There's no record of your birth, the government doesn’t know you exist. Since the beginning you’ve been locked away in the house, your father intended to keep it that way for the time being. When you were younger you would question it, but maybe some things are better kept a mystery.
This winter felt different, like a big change would come to your repetitive, lonely life. You could feel it when you woke up, a barely noticeable shift in the air.
Last night your father had said he had an important guest today, one who would have an extended visit. He said he’d known this man for years and trusted him enough to invite him over. Your father never described trust as having a factor in if people were invited over, it usually was based on how much he could profit off their support.
You could hear commotion in the hallway, the avoxes must've been trying to prepare for the man coming later, you weren’t worried like they were. Every single visit was the same.
Stand in the corner, anticipate messes or when someone needs something, listen intently, and then clean up after they leave. It was that. Every time.
When you first saw the special visitor you were intrigued. It wasn’t the usual middle-aged man with a creepy, dangerous stare. No. This was a young man, not much older than you, with kind eyes and a magnetic energy. Dad should invite this guy over more often, you thought.
They talked about a rebellion that your father had been planning for years, slowly recruiting victors in on the large movement. This was not new information, but the age of the man was throwing you off. Your father usually waited for them to get older, allowing more resentment to grow, which proved more useful for their specific role in the rebellion, but this victor you remember winning around 3 years ago. Still, you brushed it off.
There were vague statements you caught, distracted by your own thoughts being louder than their conversation. Things about him being the capital’s sweetheart, the influence he had on the citizens, and that if he were to agree then he wouldn’t be bought again. You felt sympathy, never having felt that often due to most guests being pretentious. This victor was the perfect mix of confidence, humbleness, and resilience, it was charming. You still weren’t able to catch his name yet.
At the end of the dinner, the guest excused himself to go to the bathroom, your father turning to you once he was out of ear-shot, “Do you mind setting the guest bedroom up?”
It took you a second to respond. Since when was that guest bedroom used? The only thing that stayed in there were the moths that slowly ate at the unused linens in the closet.
“Of course, dad. For who?” you asked. Somewhat careless as you addressed your father not using the usual “sir” or “Mr. Heavensbee.” You were lucky no one was around.
Your father thought you were joking, did you not just stand and watch him talk to the young man for an hour?
“For me,” that same man appeared behind you, shock riddled down your spine. No one, other than your father, had heard your voice before. That shock you felt appeared in your fathers expression, who sat in front of you, still being too afraid to look at the mystery man.
“Finnick,” your father said calmly, his usual demeanor returning to him.
The young man, who you now knew was named Finnick, responded with that same calmness, “Yes, sir?”
“Do not speak of this to anyone.” The elder man was borderline terrifying as underlying threats dripped from his words.
“The thought never even crossed my mind, sir.” A small smirk still on his lips, unaffected by Plutarch’s attempt to intimidate him.
-.-
5 years ago, 70th Hunger Games Victory Tour
Victor's week had become your favorite week of the year, which is weird because you used to dread it. But ever since the 68th Hunger Games, you had something to long for — Finnick Odair. He began to change your routine.
Finnick somehow made a week full of scheming politicians and drunk socialists into something fun. Maybe it was his witty remarks or the mischievous grin that crept onto his face when he saw you across the room. He made it… fun.
It was embarrassing and you would never admit to anyone how giddy you got the night before he arrived, but he became the best part of your year. He was understanding of your predicament and never made fun of your underdeveloped social skills.
Flora, another avox, had been signing teasing remarks about your little crush on Finnick to you when he walked in. He strolled over like this was a normal occurrence, like he owned the house. It didn’t take long for him to be standing right in front of you, the avox prep room was a small space.
Speak of the devil, Flora signed, giving you a knowing smile. She glanced between you and Finnick before ultimately deciding to leave you two alone, nodding goodbye to the both of you.
He said your name softly, it melted your heart, “You’re a hard person to find, Miss Heavensbee.”
You rolled your eyes, “I didn’t know this was a routine.”
Last year he caught you in the kitchen, arriving early just to talk to you without the dangers of capital officials finding out your secret.
“I missed you too.” He smiled at you, unbothered by the fake annoyed glare you gave him.
You scoffed at him, reaching for the final part of your ensemble, a dainty necklace, on the table he started leaning on. “Don’t flirt with me.”
“Why not?” He intercepted your grab for the necklace and motioned for you to turn around, your eyebrows furrowed but you obliged.
“You do it with everyone.” Your voice was uneven as his gentle hands reached around to put the accessory on you.
“That’s true,” he admitted as you turned to face him again, “But I only learn sign language for you.”
“You're kidding!” A smile of disbelief gracing your features.
His hands moved in an attempt to sign You’re beautiful but instead he signed soapy strawberry, you understood his intent still.
A genuine laugh erupted from you, a rare occurrence, “You did not sign that right.”
Finnick felt accomplished, even if he did it wrong. He would embarrass himself a thousand more times if it meant he could hear you laugh like that again.
“It was worth a shot.” He shrugged, a subtle blush dusting his cheeks, “You look beautiful tonight.”
You tried to sneer at him, but the grin tugging at your lips ruined it,“You don’t have to butter me up like everyone else.”
“I know.” His hand reached out for yours, brushing his fingers across it, “ I want to.”
You couldn’t help the way your breath hitched.
“Don’t you have a dinner to go to?” You asked quickly, flustered by his attention being solely on you.
He nodded, “Unfortunately.” His hand still played with yours despite the fact that he had to go.
“Then go.”
“In a minute.”
“Finnick—”
“Fine,” He groaned, beginning to leave as he walked backwards, “I’ll see you out there.”
-.-
3 years ago, 72nd Hunger games Victory Tour
You woke up with the worst headache this morning and knew that tonight would be torture. Your father had decided tonight would be his biggest party for the victor, Pliny Arausio, but also Seneca Crane, the new gamemaker.
The closer it got to the time of the event the worse you felt. It had progressed to the point where it was no longer just your head pounding but also a runny nose and sore throat accompanying it. The small cold you thought you had this morning was more serious than you anticipated. You couldn’t even think straight, the pain was blocking all logical thoughts.
Nothing followed your silent routine tonight.
This party in particular felt more overwhelming than others. There was more food, louder music, and at least a thousand people, but no Finnick. Over the past few years Finnick Odair had become the only reason why you eagerly awaited these daunting events, the fact that he wasn’t here was killing you. You weren’t told that he was not invited tonight, but he didn’t visit you before like he usually would; therefore, you could only assume he wouldn’t be here.
Your feet were killing you as you held onto a tray of champagne, parading it around the event for attendees to grab at their convenience. You felt like you were on fire, the combination of your fever and the body heat from all the guests made the room feel like a sauna. You were invisible to them, everyone kept bumping into you or accidentally smacking into your tray as they gestured wildly.
Just when you thought this night couldn’t get any worse, you saw Finnick leaning into a beautiful woman's presence with his signature smirk on his face, flirting with her.
You immediately started jumping to conclusions.
It was clear he didn’t think seeing you was as important as you thought. Maybe the past year forced us to grow apart. Maybe he preferred the company of girls he didn’t have to sneak around just to say hello to.
Just then you made eye contact with him.
Shit.
You had to get out of there. You did not want Finnick to see you upset over something that meant so little to him.
Without a second thought, you turned around to escape into the mansion. Inside, you went to the kitchen, a practical place that wouldn’t draw attention.
Your mind was racing with illogical thoughts.
He doesn’t care. He never liked me in the first place, I was just leverage in his sick game. Finnick probably told everyone about the abomination I am. Everything he’s said was a twisted joke.
Tears were rolling down your cheeks before you even knew it, everything had been building up all day and Finnick had been the last straw. This night felt like it would never end. You were angry at your best friend, who no longer cared, and exhausted from your raging fever.
It wasn’t long before the kitchen door flew open, a distressed Finnick making his way inside. The few minutes you had alone weren’t enough to properly calm you down.
You clumsily wipe your tear stained face and start busying yourself, ignoring his worried gaze.
He approaches you in the same way he would approach a skittish animal, “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”
You don’t respond, treating him like he was everyone else. Like to him you were just an avox.
“Baby, please talk to me.” He pleaded from behind you. His gentle, caring tone sounded mocking to you, even though it wasn’t.
You shake your head in frustration, "there's nothing to say.” You finished placing the last wine glass on the silver tray and turned to leave, but Finnick stood in your way.
“Yes there is,” he insisted, “I just wanna know what's going on.”
You huff and put the tray down behind you before staring him straight in the eye. You didn’t want to be confrontational but at this point it felt as if he wanted you to. “Are you always this oblivious?”
Finnick’s brows furrow, unable to do anything but nod.
“You are the most confusing person ever!” Your voice raises louder than intended, “I thought we were friends, good friends, but tonight you’ve shown me it was just my imagination.”
He helplessly responds, “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“So you just accidentally ignore me and cozy up to another woman?”
You can tell that got him as he scoffs at you, “Seriously?”
“Yes, seriously. I know I may not mean that much to you, but I look forward to seeing you and it's clear you don’t reciprocate that feeling.” You try to shove past him, abandoning the tray behind you, he doesn’t let you… again. His hand grabbed your forearm this time.
“You do mean a lot to me, I was working just like you were tonight.” Finnick's grip became firmer, but not painful.
Oh.
You open your mouth but nothing comes out. You were so sick that you forgot his deal with snow, a topic he previously discussed with your father at their first dinner.
Finnick takes your stunned silence as pity, “Don’t give me that look, don’t be like everyone else.”
“I’m not, I swear.” You reach out for him, enveloping the hand that was on your arm.
He sighs, taking a step back and reassessing the situation, “This isn’t about me right now, I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry too.”
“You shouldn’t be.”
You try to take a deep breath but it's interrupted by a violent cough, you grab his arm to steady yourself.
His other hand flies to your waist as he finally understands what's really been bothering you. “Let's get you to bed, sweetheart.”
“You have to get back out there, I don’t want you getting in trouble because of me.” Despite your insistence on him leaving, your grip on him doesn’t falter.
“You’re worth all the trouble.”
-.-
7 months ago, 74th Hunger Games Victory Tour
There were two victors this year, something that had never happened before. The rebellion was going to start picking up, you knew by the way there were more secret meetings than usual and by the unrest in the districts.
Your father volunteered to be the head game maker which put him in the best position to start acting on what had just been hushed discussions for the past several years. He said tonight he would hint at Katniss his intentions but wouldn’t reveal any major information.
You could tell by the way she cringed from across the dance floor that she didn’t trust him, or anyone other than the folks she knew back in 12. You hoped this year it would work, you couldn’t live in secret anymore. Your father had said once you left the capital, you would never have to hide yourself away again. After year 3 it felt impossible, an unattainable dream.
Until then, you decided to continue with your routine.
Before the event, Finnick had visited you, but instead of welcoming his warm hug and witty remarks, you shoved him out of the room. He was confused, but also pleasantly entertained by your bold action. For the past week you’d planned for his arrival, searching for a place where you could talk for more than the five minutes before the annual events.
You had Flora slip him an important “notice” that ultimately told him the location you set up. It didn’t take long before he cautiously opened the door. He wore a white linen shirt, the top few buttons undone, and loose pants that complemented the overall silhouette.
Inside he was met with you holding a small gift box. For once, Finnick didn’t have a clever remark ready.
“So this is what you’ve been up to?” His voice was teasing, making you cower back slightly in embarrassment.
You nod slowly, “I know we don’t have a lot of time, but I wanted to do this in private.” If you had done it earlier there would’ve been the risk of other avoxes or your father coming in.
“So this is the secondary location.” He jokes, looking around the room as if this were the end of the road for him.
You gave him a face that spoke for you, one of pure annoyance.
“Sorry.” He bowed his head slightly, signaling you to continue.
You took a deep breath to collect your thoughts, “I wanted to give you something to remember me by, the rebellion is picking up fast and I don’t know what will happen.” You extend the box to him but he doesn’t take it. “Finnick, please.”
“I can’t” He stared at the neat bow on the pale yellow box like it would attack him at any moment.
“Why not?”
“Because then this would be a goodbye.” That's when you saw it. His eyes were glossy as the intention of the gift set in.
You grabbed his hand to pull him closer, he let you, “It isn’t, I swear.”
He decided to trust you, maybe if he acted like this was just a kind gesture rather than a safety measure then maybe, just maybe, it means he’ll see you after tonight.
He gingerly took the box and slowly undid the ribbon wrapped around it. Inside was the necklace he helped put on you many years ago. Finnick picked it up like it would break at any moment.
“This is so strawberry, thank you.” Without a second thought Finnick leaned down slightly to press a light kiss to your cheek.
Chapter 2 Summary: Finnick was meant to meet you at District 13, but you weren't there.
Tags/Warnings: Graphic torture, Finnick not eating or sleeping, kidnapping, female reader, Hallucinations, several wounds, Creepy man, implied starvation and dehydration, hostage videos
Word Count: 2.8k
Editor: @sweetcherries123
Chapter 1
-.-
Finnick’s POV
Finnick barely remembered the flight to District 13. Only fragments stayed with him now — the vibration of the hovercraft beneath his boots, the copper taste of blood in his mouth, the way every sharp turn sent pain through his ribs.
By the time they landed, medics were already waiting. Hands pulled him onto a stretcher. Questions blurred together. Someone cut through the sleeve of his shirt. Another pressed cold fingers against the bruising along his neck.
He let them work. None of it mattered.
“Where is she?” The words came out rougher than he intended. His throat still burned from the arena smoke.
A medic glanced up. “Who?”
Finnick shut his eyes briefly, exhausted with himself. “Y/N Heavensbee.”
Recognition flickered instantly across the woman’s face. “She hasn’t arrived yet,” she said carefully. “Her transport was delayed.”
Delayed.
Finnick nodded anyway and leaned his head back against the pillow, pretending that explanation was enough.
“There’s word she should arrive by nightfall”
Nightfall, I can wait until then, Finnick thought before closing his eyes to rest, hoping sleep would make nightfall come sooner.
-.-
Reader’s POV
You woke up with a start, a cold sweat running down your spine. You opened your eyes only to be met with darkness, the feeling of a cloth tied too tight around your head causing a tension headache to start forming. You tried to take it off by moving your hand up to your face, but your hands were bound behind you.You tried to stand from the chair but all you did was make it screech against the floor as more binds around your mid-section kept you in place.
This wasn’t District 13.
The room was cold, damp, and smelled stale. You didn’t need your eyes to see that this wasn’t what your father had promised you would wake up to this morning.
Yesterday, before your father left for the game center, he promised that by this time tomorrow you would be in district 13, talking to whomever you desired and never having to hide your identity again. He declared that last night he would somehow get the victors out, while he did that you would be packed up and on a jet to your new home.
He was wrong.
Instead, you're stuck in a mysterious room hearing muffled voices from outside, none of them being familiar.
You weren't left alone with your own thoughts too long before a door somewhere in front of you swung open, you could feel the air blow your loose shirt back.
“A fine morning isn’t it?” A deep voice asked, he had an accent you’ve never heard before. You didn’t respond. He chuckled before continuing, “Well, I guess you wouldn’t know.”
You could hear the man shuffle to stand in front of you, “I want this to be easy, so let's be honest with each other.”
You nodded slowly.
“So you can hear me, perfect.” He noted.
You wish he could see the way you rolled your eyes at him, but it was probably better that he couldn't.
The man took a deep breath before asking calmly, “Who are you?”
You tugged on your restraints, signaling that you needed your hands to speak.
The man just laughed at you, “You don’t need those to respond, I know you can talk.”
You stayed silent.
“Speak.” His voice was eerily calm, sending a chill up your spine.
You shook your head.
His hand came down in a swift, calculated slap. It sent your head to the left, for a second all you could hear was ringing.
His boots scraped in front of you as he moved closer to grab your chin, forcing your head straight again.
“You’re making this harder than it needs to be.”
You were throbbing with pain but you were not going to give in.
You shook your head again.
This process continued for a while, each slap growing more painful than the last. Still, he refused to raise his voice.
-.-
Finnick’s POV
Every five seconds he would check the door, hoping you would walk in any minute. You didn’t. He would ask the doctors for updates, and they told him to be patient. He couldn’t be patient anymore. He waited until nightfall, but now it had been three days.
He tried to reassure himself that there are many logical, safe reasons for you being late. Maybe the pilot had rerouted. Maybe the Capitol’s airspace was worse than expected. Maybe there was still time for everything to be okay. None of his logical explanations helped.
Finnick tried to appear calm and collected, but everyone could already see him unraveling.
Maybe once he’s back to work he’ll know the situation and find out you’re just around the corner… right?
-.-
Reader’s POV
There had been an endless dripping above your head for hours. It was intentional, you could tell because the only people who would want to torture and gain information from you would be the capital, and they never did anything on accident.
You were damp from head to toe, the cold air around you making it worse. In a few hours you knew sickness would start to set in. Your fingers and toes felt numb, all your blood focused on keeping your heart beating. Thoughts didn’t come clearly anymore—only the uncontrollable shivering of your body and the relentless clatter of your teeth filling the space inside your head.
Every once in a while you would hear shuffling of tactical boots and men speaking. You couldn’t tell if hours or minutes passed anymore. It was just water dripping forever and ever. There was nothing anchoring you to time anymore. You couldn’t see. You couldn’t feel or smell, the freezing temperatures making your nose lose its ability.
-.-
“Finnick?” You heard him outside, calling for you.
He didn’t respond. I should yell louder, you thought.
“I'm here!” You fought against your restraints, feeling one of your hands start to loosen the rope.
“Wait for me!” You yell into the darkness, still making your way out of the rope.
After only a minute your hand was free. You started shimmying your way out of the thick binds, a feeling of hope flooding your body.
The door opened, footsteps approaching, “Finnick!” You rejoice, pulling the blindfold off.
But it's not Finnick. It’s a peacekeeper with his face covered, his hand nearing your face rapidly before everything went black.
-.-
You were in a new room now. It wasn’t the damp stone room you’d seen for only a second before, this one was more of a cell. A thin, hard bed in the corner, a one way mirror across from it, a large security camera above the door, and a dirty toilet off to the side. You would be here for a while.
There were no windows, you still couldn’t tell the time. You were still in your grim covered clothes, but there was no longer a “leaking” pipe above your head so all was well… in a way.
The door opened, an older man with a long black trenchcoat entered.
“You’ve shown us you are capable. We were just going to ‘discard’ you, but you are more useful than we thought.” He used his figures to put quotes around “discard,” It was the man who had slapped you when you first arrived.
“Be a doll and tell me how you’re related to this rebellion. If you cooperate, maybe I can negotiate to get some food for you.” His demeanor was the same, calm and strategic.
You thought for a moment about it, then physically cringed. I’m such a bad daughter, you thought as you cursed yourself for even considering betraying your father and best friend. This place was taking a toll on you.
“Get me some food first and I’ll tell you.”
He clicked his tongue three times and shook his head, “You are in no place to negotiate. Taking my deal is your best option, you’ve only seen a fraction of the consequences.”
You simply shook your head.
He didn’t give a reaction, he just… left.
-.-
Finnick’s POV
Finnick started memorizing footsteps. The heavy stride near the command hall belonged to Boggs. Light, hurried steps usually meant Prim. Coin’s escorts moved in pairs. Every unfamiliar sound made his head turn instinctively. Every door made his pulse jump. It had been nine days.
He had asked everyone where you were, even Coin, but there were still no updates. Nobody knew where you were, where the mission crew was, and whether any of you were alright. No one knew anything, and if they did, they definitely weren’t telling him.
He wasn’t the type of person who overthinks, but he couldn’t help it. His mind kept jumping to the worst case scenarios, even going as far as giving him nightmares about them. Your body lifeless and mutilated at the hands of the Capitol.
It became a routine for him to wander, he couldn’t stand being in his room too long without you. During lap three of the compound he heard your name echo through the halls. Instinctively, he followed it and not long after his ear was pressed against a door to listen further.
It was Coin’s voice that he heard first, “They found bodies on the east border of the capital.”
Bodies? Was there an attempt to breach the walls? Finnick thought before the conversation could continue.
“Was it the crew?” Coin must’ve nodded as Plutarch further asked, “Was my daughter with them?”
“No, her status is still unknown.”
Silence settled over the room and it made Finnick impatient, he had to start asking questions himself.
He opened the door and acted surprised as he “accidently” interrupted their conversation. “I didn’t know there was a meeting today.”
Plutarch quickly turned around to respond, “There isn’t, we were just talking.” A cautious smile creeps onto his face.
“About what?”
Coin and Plutarch weren’t stupid, they could tell he already knew. The tension in the air was suffocating, “Finnick maybe you should go-” Coin began to escort him out but Finnick cut her off.
“No thanks, I’d rather stay.” He didn’t mean to have an attitude, he couldn’t help it. He needed to know more, like if there was a plan to find you.
Plutarch gave in, he knew Finnick cared about his daughter, a father always knows. “Please, make yourself at home.” He gestured to a chair across from him.
The blond smoothed out his District 13 issued clothing and moved across the room to sit at the large table, “Where do you think she is?”
Plutarch didn’t have the energy to lie anymore, a week was his limit. “I have a feeling the capital got to her before the team could.”
Finnick nodded deep in thought, “Is there a plan to get her?”
The older man shook his head.
“Then we are going to make one.”
-.-
Reader’s POV
The past few hours, days, weeks? You didn’t know anymore, you just know you would rather die than continue with this lifestyle. A life of mutilation, starvation, and psychological torture. You were burned, cut, and beaten. Your head dunked in water repeatedly.
Don’t Sleep.
Don’t Sleep.
Don’t Sleep.
Became your mantra, if you slept then your guard was down. If your guard was down then something worse than death would happen, you knew it.
The door slammed open. The trench coat man, two peacekeepers accompanying him.
Just kill me today, you thought.
“I have a treat for you today, doll.” His smile was anything but comforting, it revealed his true twisted intentions.
You were led to a room with a chair, leather bonds on the arms, legs, and body, and a small television from long before you were born.
The peacekeepers strapped you in while your torturer tuned the tv to one of the other cameras in the building.
The screen flickered once before the image steadied.
Your father sat restrained in a chair identical to yours. For a moment you forgot to breathe. His hair was disheveled. Blood darkened the collar of his shirt. Silver duct tape covered his mouth, trapping every desperate sound in his throat.
“No…” The word barely escaped you.
Beside you, the man in the trench coat smiled.
“I’m doing this because you made me,” he said softly.
A Peacekeeper stepped into frame. Your father began struggling violently against the restraints. You’d never seen him afraid before. The realization hollowed something inside you.
“Wait—”
The Peacekeeper drew his weapon.
You pulled against the leather straps hard enough to tear skin from your wrists.“Please, please don’t—” A hand gripped the back of your head, forcing you to keep watching.
The gunshot echoed through the room.
Afterward, your father didn’t move again.
“...dad?” A childish squeak left your mouth at the scene, sobs following shortly after.
The man behind you stood with an accomplished grin.
-.-
Finnick’s POV
He hasn’t been sleeping, he couldn’t. Every time he tried, his mind wandered back to you and the enigma that was your location. He lost his appetite a few days ago. Every time he tried to eat, he couldn’t help but think about how you were most likely being starved.
He’d been training lately to prepare for your rescue mission, though he hadn’t been promised a spot on the team. There wasn’t a plan yet, no set date or team, they didn’t even know where you were being held. Coin insisted that they were looking for your location but he believed her less everyday. There wasn’t any new information on you and it was killing him.
The sleep deprivation and overexertion from training inevitably turned into him passing out while “taking a breather” on the floor.
-.-
“Finnick!” Prim violently shook him awake, she was out of breath and her hands were unsteady.
He opened his eyes, “What is it?” His tone was surprisingly kind despite the fact that he was rudely awakened.
“Coin needs you in the meeting room,” Finnick started to fall back asleep, “She needs you right now!” Primrose began shaking him again.
“Okay okay,” he said, swatting her away and making his way to the meeting room.
When he opened the door Coin quickly moved to turn off the holographic screen displaying a gruesome video of you, but it was too late. He saw it all.
“What the hell was that?” Finnick made his way to the controls, “Where did you get that?” His voice rose slightly in distress.
A beat passes as everyone stares at him in shock, they’ve never seen him so worked up.
“The capital’s private channel. Betee, found it earlier.” Plutarch gestures to the man who sat next to him.
Betee hasn’t been able to get through the system for weeks, it's obvious that the capital wanted the rebels to find this.
“I wanna see the whole thing.” Finnick knows its graphic, he knows it’ll hurt to watch, but he needs to know what they did to you—what he failed to protect you from.
“Finnick—” Betee tries to argue but Finnick doesn’t let him.
“Show me the video… please.” His voice breaks on the final word but Coin obliges, the video flickering back to life on the screen.
You’re tied up to a chair, blindfolded, and brutally beaten. Tears and blood seeped through the cloth tied around your eyes as you cried in pain. A man demands you to read a message to the rebels but it doesn’t register well. You shake your head and call a name.
His name.
“Finnick, please help me.” You plead before a peacekeeper knocks you out with a hard hit to your head. The video cuts out.
The room is covered in a thick blanket of silence. No one knows what to say.
Coin speaks with reassurance to comfort the father and friend in the room, “We can use the radio signals that sent the video to triangulate the location where she is being kept. Once we have that, a team will be sent to recover her.”
Finnick nodded, “When do we leave?”
“You’re not going.” Plutarch states firmly.
“Yes, I am. She needs me—she was calling for me, not strangers who have nothing at stake.”
Plutarch’s voice raises from Finnick's defiance, “No. What she needs is stability and a mission without complications. You would jeopardize all of that.”
“She needs a familiar face—”
“You’re not going and that's final.” Coin settles the argument, shutting both the men up.
A few days later Finnick watches as the recovery team takes off in a sleek jet, hoping that he’ll see you again.
synopsis: jack abbot has had a shit day. luckily, his beautiful OBGYN wife is there to save his day.
contains: night crew!!, trinity santos being a menace, depictions of birth, jack being a simp, bad bitch reader, no use of y/n
note: first 'the Pitt' fanfic.
Being the lead OBGYN in PTMC emergency department was no easy feat.
You constantly handled STIs, infected IUDs and the occasional birth, but it was otherwise pretty calm.
They called you Bear, due to your calm yet assertive approach to distressed women. Not to mention it referred to ‘Mama Bear’, what almost all the interns and new residents called you at the insistence of Robby.
Overall, you truly loved your job. You got to spend time with women, babies, and your best friends.
Also, your husband worked in the Emergency Department, and you two always made it a show to flaunt your marriage in front of the residents.
.
.
.
Jack was tired.
He got shot. No, wait. Shot at. There’s a difference. A clear difference that he would highlight in your eventual fight over it.
Whatever, he was irritated as fuck.
And now he had all the new gen residents bitching to him about going analogue.
He entered a trauma room, followed by Dr. Santos, Dr. Langdon, student doctors Ogilvie and Joy and senior resident Ellis.
“Okay, Ms. Richards, can you tell us what happened?” He asked, frowning as he gazed over her chart.
Right, a woman was currently crowning the ER. Not the best situation, but it is what it is.
The woman cleared her throat, sweaty and crying as she held her bump. “My…my water broke while I was taking a hike. I had to go all the way back down before calling 911. I passed out and here I am.” She wheezed out.
Jack nodded, looking around. “Joy, what are we looking for?” He called out, gloving and gowning up.
“Uhm-”
“Chorioamnionitis. Her uterus may be infected.” Ogilvie cut her, looking over at Jack for approval.
The older man paused, dumbfounded at the cause. Great, Robby assigned him a Gunner.
Santos snorted from where she was getting the epidural ready.
“We’re looking for horses, not zebras.”
The familiar voice made Jack’s muscles relax.
The familiar pink scrubs appeared in the room.
Everybody paused, before Ellis chuckled.
“Thank God Dr. Abbot’s here, no offence Jack.” She snorted, already walking over to you instinctively.
You breathed out a smile, pulling your hair off your face. “Thanks, Doctor Ellis.”
You walked over to Jack’s side, giving him a teasing smile. “Dr. Abbot, what’s up with the patient?”
He cleared his throat. God, he’s whipped when you use that authoritative tone.
“Well, she’s two weeks premature, and was having strenuous activity before the birth so that is the most likely cause.” You nodded, turning over to Ogilvie.
“She would be over 100 degrees if it were chorioamnionitis.” You explained dryly, checking the patient’s vitals.
“Dr. Abbot’s the expert here, dear future doctors. She's the head of OBGYN down here. She could probably birth triplets with her eyes closed.” Jack stated, trying to maintain an air of professionalism in front of them.
“I have. Remember Snowmageddon?” You said, nudging his side with your hip.
Langdon and Ellis, already used to all of this, were moving in tandem, while Santos, Ogilvie and Joy were nothing but flabbergasted.
“Okay, Ms. Richards. I’m afraid we’ll have to give birth to your baby girl right here. You are much too fragile to go up to L&D.” With a sigh, you sat on the chair and rolled over between her legs, pushing your glasses up.
Santos, ever the chaotic good that she was, cleared her throat. “Doctor Abbot?” She called out.
Both you and Jack looked over to her, eyebrows raised. She paused, looking between the two.
“Mama Bear, epidural’s ready.” Langdon called out. You nodded, going over to ask the patient if she wanted an epidural.
She nodded, gripping the railing of the gurney.
“Okay, Dr. Santos, epidural.” You ordered, adjusting the lady’s legs on the stirrups.
“Are you two married?” Joy finally blurted out, looking between you two.
You paused, turning over to Jack for his answer.
He paused before nodding, crossing his arms. “Yeah, yeah we are. She’s senior here though. She has about two years on me experience wise. But, yeah, we’re both doctor Abbot-”
“Honey?” You cut off his nervous rambling, looking up at him with those deep eyes of yours.
He mumbled out a sorry, turning back to the patient as she pushed. “You guys can just call me Bear. That’s the nickname around here.” You mumbled, busy checking the dilation.
10 centimeters. Time to go.
“Uh, no. You guys call her Dr. Abbot. Just call me Jack.” Your husband protested, gulping at your cautious glance.
Santos raised her eyebrows, surprised at the attending’s insistence on keeping your doctor title.
“That’s some feminist shit.” She said under her breath, earning a “I know that’s right” from Ellis.
“One last push, Ms. Richards.” You assured, hands ready to catch the babe while everybody else gossiped.
Jack watched you, eyes observing reverently as you entered flow state.
That’s what he loved the most about you, how focused you were when you were working.
The contrast of his beautiful and serious colleague from his caring and passionate wife always made his heart do a little twirl.
At one point, Langdon and Santos started bickering before a sharp cry cut them off.
You cooed gently, wiping the baby’s eyes. “Langdon, 9:30.” You called out the time of birth, carefully cutting the umbilical birth while Ellis grabbed the baby, bringing her to her mama.
You turned to Jack, grinning. “Think we don’t need you here, Dr. Abbot.” You teased, waiting for the placenta.
He smiled, walking over to your side. “You sure, Dr. Abbot?”
“Yes, go help Robby. Poor man’s last day is already as bad as it can get.” You ordered, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips.
He blushed, nodding. “Yes ma’am.” He said with a small salute, leaving.
Trinity snorted, looking down at your expert hands. “That was so weird.”
“What? You’ve never seen Abbot act like a puppy?” Ellis snorted, holding the metal tray under the woman as her placenta spilled out.
You always loved seeing the residents’ reaction to you and your husband. Nothing could replace the dumbfoundedness on their faces.
Trinity nodded.
You sighed, sitting up with a backstretch. “He knows how to abandon authority when I’m around.”
Joy held back a grin. “That’s some Alpha/Beta shit, Doc.” She hummed, bursting out into laughter at Ogilvie’s reaction.
“I don’t even know what that is.” He grimaced.
You shrugged, throwing your gloves out. “What can I say? A man who yearns is a man who earns, girls.” You said, walking out to go page L&D.
Trinity and Joy followed your figure, sighing.
“I don’t know if I want to be with her or be her.” Joy frowned.
some texts between reader and dennis in the hot shot universe but you don't need to have read those!! just know that reader is a respiratory therapist <3 these were mostly taken from/heavily inspired by pinterest lol but a few of them are just from my mind!
<3 no taglist on the smaus like usual just for fun!!
summary: working as in house counsel means you've become very acquainted with jack abbot and his little scrawl of a signature. god help him.
content: sexually explicit content, age gap, swearing, medical inaccuracy obviously--sue me I'm in law not medicine, blood and wound mentions but this is a medical show so
total wc: 42,468
status: ongoing
godlight (wc: 16.7k) | the first friday of every month you make your way down to the emergency department with a stack of insurance claims in hand to harass robby with, and you leave through the stairs with jack abbot, fresh off his shift and half a step behind you, muttering something lowly in your ear that makes you laugh.
hey, siri (wc: 3k) | you become privy to some abbot-sponsored healthcare fraud.
ornithological jurisprudence (wc: 3k) | bothering jack abbot is your specialty, fuck whatever your actual job is.
goldilocks (wc: 5k) | jack has trouble sleeping. you don’t make it any easier.
saint jack (wc: 14.3k) | abbot decides it's your turn to fix what's broken and, lucky for you, he's there to talk you through it.
I’m not going to defend Robby’s behavior towards Samira because it was wrong and cruel and deeply, deeply unprofessional. But I also find the reactions to it incredibly ironic. The Pitt is at its core about extreme burnout in the healthcare field, particularly amongst emergency medicine personnel, and how that ripples out and affects absolutely everyone around them—their colleagues, their relationships, the entire community. Over and over again, the Pitt asks of its audience: even in the face of extreme and sometimes unforgivable behavior, can you find the same empathy that is constantly and endlessly demanded of our healthcare providers? And for so many it seems like the answer to that question is a definitive, categorical no. Which funnily enough, is exactly the point the show is trying to make.
%%%% authors note . . . one of my smaller chapters only because my work is picking up like wtffff i wish i could be employed but do unemployed stuff constantly.
%%%% taglist (taglist is closed) . . . @tqd4455 @goldfishenthusiast67 @xreader1989 @malibuhearts @mewmew222 @tabisswag @cosmicneptune @dollieangeel @abbotitts @localsams @cutiesinthecosmos @dumbbandpoetic @silovicbaird @cosmosnkaz @kaiparkerwife @tatoda @shitface-t @iloveofftotheraces @niyizh @batgirlieee @vikisvendetta @ziggy0stardust @vesperazhier @horanghaepaws @theariespov @memanda17 @harringtonsbowgirl l @cassierins @peachyfckingkeen @jaelaconsuela @rott3ndesire @huckkleberry @lonerm3g @mxtokko @ancientimes @sideblogmeanz @wylewhims @almostjollypizza @braincellfugitive @fadedmunson @pennyploorp @cherryybombbthoughts @marvelsimps @archxve @mel164 @ilumxna @fembot-rot @minghaossv @faelvz @matt-murdockk (NOTE!! i mean this as kindly as possible, interactions help my motivation to post. that being said, the taglist is full and if you do not interact with my posts in any capacity, nor do you follow me, i will have to remove you and try out others who are also asking to be put on the list. sorry.)
%%%% authors note . . . im hoping its not the case but my work will kick back up again soon so i’ll try to post everyday like this past week. anyway i love it when u guys give me your thoughts so dont be shy 🙈🙈🙈 little jealousy plot inspired by my talented moots latest update!!
%%%% taglist (still open) . . . @tqd4455 @goldfishenthusiast67 @xreader1989 @malibuhearts @mewmew222 @tabisswag @cosmicneptune @dollieangeel @abbotitts @localsams @cutiesinthecosmos @dumbbandpoetic @silovicbaird @cosmosnkaz @kaiparkerwife @tatoda @shitface-t @iloveofftotheraces @niyizh @batgirliee @vikisvendetta @ziggy0stardust @vesperazhier @horanghaepaws @theariespov @memanda17 @harringtonsbowgirl @cassierins @peachyfkingkeen @jaelaconsuela @rott3ndesire @huckkleberry @lonerm3g @mxtokko @ancientimes @sideblogmeanz @wylewhims @almostjollypizza @iheartdonis @braincellfugitive @fadedmunson @pennyploorp @cherryybombbthoughts @marvelsimps @archxve @mel164 @clementinebutnottheorange @ilumxna @fembot-rot @minghaossv @faelvz @matt-murdockk @turtlesareeverywhere (pink means i can’t tag you or i got ur user wrong, sorry!)
nurse come get her she's thinking about husband jack abbot again...
jack abbot who got so giddy when you mentioned having kids with him. you were sitting in his lap on the couch one night, just kissing and talking about anything and everything. and then you said it. "when we have kids i hope they have freckles like you do," you run your hands over his shoulders for emphasis. "oh yeah?" he's trying his hardest to sound calm, but inside he's desperately hoping you're being 100% serious right now. "yeah," you move your hands to run through his hair, "and curls like yours too."
and then a couple days later, you bring it up again when he's talking about a new medical procedure he was reading about - "i hope our future kids are super geniuses like you." and this time he can't take it: "do you want to have a baby?" let's just say you were pregnant shortly after that conversation.
jack abbot who gossips with you after every shift. he won't ever admit that he loves to gossip, but if one of the night shift crew say something juicy or robby tells him something that happened during the day shift, he locks it in his mind because trust that information will make it's way back to you. he likes to think about the way you'll react to the new information when he gets home - your gasp or little swat to his arm - throughout the shift. sometimes, if it's really good, he'll write it down in his notes app so he doesn't forget (you taught him to use the notes app for this reason). this habit does complicate things a bit, like the one time you met dr. shen and had to act like jack hadn't told you more than you should know about john's personal life and his concerning caffeine intake.
jack abbot who sometimes thinks he picks up swat shifts just so he can see your reaction to him in uniform. he loves all your secret, well at least you think they're secret, glances his way. he notices that your touch lingers a little longer when you tell him to be safe before he leaves and when he comes home after. his favorite move is to come out of the bathroom while he's getting ready with his camo pants on and no shirt. "babe, have you seen my shirt?" he'll ask, and he loves the way he can watch your brain short circuit a little bit before you process what he asked you. "uh, yeah, it's in the hamper," and of course he loves that you can't take your eyes off of him as he walks across the room to grab it.
jack abbot who tells his therapist everything about you and your little family. sometimes he feels like his life has been a lot of bad - so much hurt, heartbreak, and pain. both from his time in the military and working in the er. but he's always been able to trace you as his silver lining in everything, the person who comforts him after a long day, who always tells him how loved he is, the person who accepts his difficult work schedule and the toll it takes on him, the person who gave him a family that he can come home to, a place full of love and positivity for him. he talks about you so highly, he couldn't imagine a life without you.
i can not explain what shawn hatosy has done to my brain...
synopsis: nobody imagined this would ever happen, but here they are, extremely unsubtle in their concerns. hating the feeling of not being in control, you slowly piece things together. how does everybody adjust to the change as time goes on?
cw/s: Injuries, care of injuries, altered mental state, unstable mood, potential medical inaccuracies.
a/n: set during the same month as s2 (july), just not the same day (july 4th). some plot points and history between characters will be elusive, but that's intentional as it will be clarified as the fic progresses. hence the name, All Over Again. no use of y/n, y/l/n, y/n/n, or anything of the sorts and absolutely zero use of ai to write/edit. searching the pitt set floorplan is recommended if you'd like (extremely helpful with visualizing paths characters take and the layout of the rooms). thank you. indulge.
Dennis walked out of the family room forty-five minutes later with a new head on his shoulders. Still not as secure as usual, sure, but better. Retrograde amnesia, mTBI…lesser of the two evils, Caleb informed. And of course the bit that stuck out to him above all, the whole ‘resolves over time with exposure’ aspect of things made him extremely hopeful. Although, Caleb made it very clear to not attempt to spark your memory for at least a day to give you time to process what all has happened. He understood that and he would listen to what Caleb instructed to do and not do as if it were the Bible–ignoring the fact that Caleb also told him that it wasn’t a sure diagnosis yet and to not take it and run with it as a rule too. Dennis would force optimism when it came to this, he had to. Otherwise? He would crumble. You’d remember all your work, that you’re a doctor, and that you accomplished it alongside everyone—him—that you were happy while you did it. You’d be okay. That’s what he’d focus on, not the gut-wrenching, life-altering idea that things could go in such a way where he’d be entering his second year of residency while you’re just finishing your first year after having to start over. Nope, he’d focus on waiting for the rainbow at the other side of the storm. He’d have patience.
After what felt like forever with the process of getting an X-ray, two CTs, and a surprise MRI, you were finally back in a room and out of your bloodied scrubs, now wearing a hospital gown. This time, Dana had you in Central 9 as you were no longer a critical care patient.
“Doctor Robby will pop back in when the X-ray results come along, alright? Eventually the CTs and MRI will pop up, too.”
“Got it.” You smiled at her warmly before she left–leaving the lights on, but honestly? It wasn't too bothersome anymore, so things could definitely be worse. You were beginning to adapt to your injuries, making sure not to breathe too deeply for your ribs, making sure to not move your head too much for…well, your head, and sure as hell making sure to not move your wrist. And the memory thing? You just tried to not think about it too much, and any time you did and got upset? You remembered Caleb’s instructions; patience.
You quickly noticed that Dana hadn’t gone far, at times walking past your room as if she had somewhere to go, only to quickly pivot on her heel as she went right back in the direction she came from. That had been happening on and off for about twenty to thirty minutes at this point, basically since she left, and it didn’t take too long for that same habit to occur amongst others, some you recognized from earlier–Trinity, Dr. Robby (as coined by Dana), Jesse, and Dennis. It felt like Whac-A-Mole, a freshly familiar face suddenly popping up, and no matter how many times it happened, you couldn’t predict which door it would be next. This group was entirely more sympathetic than any other you’d met in a hospital you’ve done a rotation in, that was for sure. You almost found it humorous, but then you thought about it more and pondered if they thought you were at high risk for a brain hemorrhage or something and that’s why they hovered...Suddenly not so fun.
Dana entered 13, where Dennis dove back into being a doctor instead of a cripplingly worried boyfriend. She smiled and almost refrained from interrupting his groove, his focus, by reminding him of the circumstances, but he’d want to know.
“Whitaker, X-ray, CT, and MRI results are with Robby. Room nine, he’s heading that way now.”
She didn’t need to specify, he knew.
“Thank you for the update.”
“She’s in good hands.”
She also didn’t need to specify that, he knew.
Turning on her heel for the thousandth time today, she made her way to your room. Walking in from the left, she heard Robby begin to discuss the results with you, starting with the wrist X-ray and MRI.
“We were wrong about it being a distal radius fracture,” he began, going to speak again but you cut him short.
“Can I see?”
He quickly looked back at Dana, giving her a small smile having felt her presence.
“Yeah, of course.” He moved closer, showing you what he was looking at. “Right here, this is where the break would be, had it been a DRF, but I’m sure you could figure that out. The injury is actually right here.” Robby’s finger moved from the X-ray results to the MRI results.
“So it’s a TFCC injury.” you said as a statement instead of a question. He couldn’t help it, he breathed out a laugh through his nose.
“Yes, it is a TFCC injury. Which, in my opinion, is the best case scenario. Any ideas on why?” The question wasn’t condescending in the slightest, it was actually encouraging.
“The MRI shows that it’s a chondral injury, as opposed to an osseous injury.” You paused. “It being a cartilage injury, a seemingly minor tear at that, is best case because it is unlikely that it requires surgery. On the money?”
“Yes you are, Missy.” Dana spoke as she eyed Robby with a smirk before averting her gaze to you. “And no reduction either. Less needles to poke ya.”
You let out a sigh of relief, though it hitched as you felt pain in your chest area, healthy hand moving to hover.
“Speaking of,” Robby began again. “No rib fractures, just contusion. Likely from your seatbelt and the force in which you went forward, I’d imagine.”
“Which explains my head and wrist. I probably, I don’t know, put my hand out to guard myself, resulting in the TFCC tear…and then I hit my head, most likely on the steering wheel…very hard.” you looked Robby in his eyes now.
“Head CT was normal. What you’re struggling with is a functional issue, not a physical one. Still hard to accept, I am sure, but you-”
“Am I supposed to know you? And the others?” you had a while between the process of getting scans done and waiting for results to sit and think. Of course you wondered why they were extra concerned, why Santos was so distressed when you awoke. After a while you couldn’t just brush their lingering off as doctor-patient concern anymore.
Dana’s lips pursed as her brows raised, putting her hands up and backing away. Her face read ‘that’s all you, Robby.’
He gave Dana a brief side glance, displeased. “I’d like to begin that conversation with Doctor Jefferson in the room. Things like this are his specialty, I wouldn’t want to say or do anything wrong, overstep or offend. He should be looking at your head CT results right about now–I’m sure he’ll be back down to speak with you soon. If you’d like, I could stay for some of it—chaos allowing.”
“Oh. That’s a yes.” you sucked at your front teeth in rapidly anxious thought. You asked, but you clearly weren’t ready for the answer.
“Patience. Patience is a virtue.” you attempted to verbally remind yourself of Caleb’s words as the realization you were supposed to know this man–and potentially the others–and you currently didn’t hit you all at once.
Dana made her way to leave the room, but not without saying she’d get Caleb to come down.
“Don’t focus on what you’re ‘supposed’ to remember. Try and focus on the fact you got a healthy head CT result back and that you’re still here, alive.” Robby continued, your thoughts practically in big bold letters on a billboard above your head.
“Alive but not well. Not really. I cannot even begin to describe how it feels to be almost a prisoner in your own mind–everyone else having a key to it that you don’t. I’m sure there’s things you know that I don’t yet, things you’re scared of me finding out. But, if you know me like I suspect you might, you know that I would prefer to just rip the bandaid off. The sooner the sting, the sooner it fades. The sooner I heal.”
“Like I said, let’s wait for Jefferson. In the meantime, I’m gonna go get you a wrist splint.” And with that, Robby left.
As his figure disappeared, you spotted Santos, strolling past the left side door pretending to be on her way to a more important duty, but you knew better by now. Head trauma or not, you are observant. This time, you didn’t pretend you didn’t see her or to be focused on something else–you waved your uninjured hand, gesturing she come in. She looked like a kid caught stealing candy as she entered your room.
“Hey…” she dragged out as she shut the door behind her. “Need any…thing?”
She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes in the slightest.
“Yeah. Tell me about myself.”
Trinity blinked, her awkward expression falling into amused confusion. “Excuse me?”
“I am not an idiot, Doctor Santos, everyone is very obvious. You especially.”
Her eyes widened briefly, whether surprised or impressed, you couldn’t quite discern.
“What do you want to know?” she let her guard down, uncrossing her arms.
“Do we know each other?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Uh…” she suddenly regretted coming in here. It was intriguing to see what you were going to say at first, but now?
“Please? Call it my potential dying wish.”
“You…work here.” She glanced around the room as if the inanimate objects would help her figure out what to say, how to say it, when to say it.
“I do? What’s my role?
“You’re a doctor. The accident happened on your way here, to work.”
“I remember you telling me that part, but I didn’t know I worked here. That is news, isn’t it? I mean wow, a doctor?” your voice was fully sardonic regarding your condition. You were trying to practice patience, but the word honestly began to piss you off. You were a fucking doctor and you didn’t remember the journey? How it felt to live your dream?
“Wait, how long have I been a doctor?”
“Like… two weeks. Not too long. You accomplished all that within these walls, don’t worry, you aren’t that far gone.” Trinity just rocked on her heels, seemingly tasking herself with looking at everything but you. Her tone was playful but her mannerisms told a different story.
“Correct me if I’m wrong, but what I am hearing is, I don’t remember the past…what, year or so of my life it took to work as a med student on her way to her first year of residency?”
“Yeah…about.” she drawled out, baring her teeth in an awkward, almost painful looking smile.
“That’s awful.” you mimicked a joyful smile, as if it were good news. You eyed Trinity for a moment.
“Are we friends?”
“Yes.”
“Makes sense.”
She grinned. “It does, huh? How so?”
“It just…does.” you swallowed before asking another question. “Who else am I friends with?”
Her mind could only conjure up the image of Dennis’ face as he walked with Dana earlier. The man you are definitely not just friends with. Clearing her throat, she came up with a safe answer, one that wasn’t exactly a lie. “All of us, we’re like a little fucked up family.”
“That seems like a cop-out answer.”
“Guess you’ll never know.”
Your brows raised a touch as did hers once she registered what she had said. Instead of apologizing, she began to laugh. You followed shortly behind.
“Ouch, fuck-“ you grit. “First, you insult my memory,” your uninjured hand finds its way to your chest, resting there. “Then you make me laugh and worsen my pain. Sure we’re friends?”
“It was unintentional, which honestly makes it funnier.” she snorted. “God, you know, even with your memories scrambled up, you’re still…you. It’s nice.”
As you looked away, really not wanting to think about that, you focused on the window of the left side door, displaying the rapidly paced ED beyond the walls of the room. There was something calming about it, a distraction. You tried to picture yourself working out there, how you’d adapted to it all. How were you during your time here? Brushing the sentiment out of your head, you tried to fight the urge to smash everything in a fit of disbelief and rage. Of course this would happen to you. A cruel joke.
“Granted I don’t remember, but I have a strong doubt that we’re the sappy type of friends.”
“I usually make fun of you when you get all sappy, so you’re not wrong.” Trinity’s laughter began to die off as she looked at you, noticing you weren’t looking at her. She followed your gaze to the same door you were looking at, to your left. There he was, Huckleberry, looking like a lost puppy as he passed by, peering into the room without an ounce of subtlety.
“And what of him?”
Trinity’s attention was still on the door, even though Dennis was out of sight. “What about him?”
“Is he a friend of mine too?”
“Oh look, there’s Jefferson.” She changed the subject, opening the door and letting him in. “And Robby.” she adds as he trails in behind Caleb, giving her a look as if he suspected something. “Seems like our little moment is up. You can interview me more la-”
“Interview? Is that what’s going on here?” Robby shoved his hands into his pockets, expression displeased. That seemed to be his resting state today.
“I want a lawyer.” Trinity shrugged casually, backing out of the room.
As she left, Robby shook his head before grabbing a clear plastic bag from his pocket, turning to you. “Had to get it cleaned up, but no damage or anything. All yours.”
He handed the bag to you, inside was your phone. “Thanks.” Since the moment you woke up, you hadn’t really thought about your phone until now. Or anything outside of the hospital, in all honesty. Even though you wanted to get info from Trinity just a minute ago, you suddenly weren’t ready to see what was on your phone. It scared you. What all were you missing out on? Who?
“Did I have other things in the car?”
“Yeah, it’s put up for safe keeping. Figured a phone was more of an immediate concern.”
Placing the bag aside, you looked at Caleb. “So…hey doc.” you let out a nervous laugh, fighting back yet another wince for what felt like the millionth time today.
“Hey, how are you feeling?”
“Content enough, given today's…events. I feel a bit more regulated, or maybe I’m just in denial.”
Robby pulled out a wrist brace, muttering basic things out of habit before putting it on you with featherlight hands.
“That’s good. Do you remember the color we talked about earlier?” Caleb peered over the side of Robby’s figure to see you.
“Red.” you said it without thinking twice.
“That’s right, yes. Red.” He looked at his watch. The conversation happened about an hour and a half ago. This was good.
“Still believe it’s mTBI?” you pried, inferring why he consulted his watch just then.
“I do, but what I said earlier remains true. I would still like things to be observed overnight. It could take forever for you to get a psych bed with the state it’s in now, so you very well could end up spending the night down here.”
“Might be the better option anyways, given you know me and all. Easier to note changes.” you drop the bomb so casually. “Doctor Robby here said he wanted to wait until you were present to answer my questions, but I got rather impatient.”
The men looked at one another as you spoke.
“Probably the brain stuff, if I had to guess. Do tell, Doctor Robby, how do I perform as a doctor so far? And please spare me the time it’ll take for either of you to avoid answering. I’m already going to be here for the night, do you really wanna add to my exhaustion?”
Robby glanced from you to Caleb, seeking some kind of green light. He cleared his throat after a long pause, ultimately deciding to answer. “You’re compassionate, efficient, respectful, resourceful, able to step outside your shoes and into the patients… Everything it takes to be a good doctor, you have.”
You bite at your lower lip to kill off the quiver that brewed, humming to show you were listening. You didn’t have the reins on your emotions, they did as they pleased. It made you feel slightly defeated.
“Are you sure this is the way you’d like to go about this?” Caleb looked at you with a concerned yet understanding expression.
“Yeah. The sooner, the better.” releasing your bottom lip, you blinked away the sting as you asked something you feared. “What does this mean for my career? The progress I made? The accomplishments?”
“We need to be sure of what exactly you’re dealing with before we look at that. But, I will tell you this, your memory retention post-trauma has been excellent. If it is mTBI, trying to gently ease yourself back into your usual routines and habits will be most effective for forgotten memories to resurface. It’d be difficult to get back into routines and habits you don’t remember, that is certain, but thankfully all of us here are familiar with you, so we can help guide you through that .” Caleb seemed so sure of it all, but you weren’t.
“I don’t even know where I live. Or what car I drive. All I know is that it’s busted up, I’m busted up, and since I just became a doctor I’m most likely still broke, so rent and insurance bullshit?” you blow out a small breath, thoughts overwhelming you.
“I’d get the concern if you were alone, but you have people to lean on. Me, De-“ Robby tried to comfort you but quickly stopped himself. He let out a low grunt, frustrated with himself. “You have all of us here. Friends, resources.”
“I’m guessing you know that I’m not too close with my family, right? You guys are pretty much all I have, and I don’t remember any of you right now. Forgive me, but it feels like I’m alone. I probably don’t even have an emergency contact. If I did, they’d be here.”
“You do.”
“Who?”
“The hospital.” Robby didn’t feel like it was a complete and total lie. Your emergency contact was Dennis, who worked at the hospital. Close enough.
“That’s depressing.” you mumble. “What’s next? My best friend is a patient regular?”
Robby laughed to himself. You were so supported and you didn’t even know it.
“I’m glad you find my misery amusing, Doctor Robby.”
“Just Robby, please.”
You looked up at him when he said that, his eyes holding the utmost sincerity.
“Okay. Robby it is.”
“We’ll work together to come up with a plan. It’ll all work out.” Caleb chimed in now, his previous confidence not lost on him.
“Can I get some idea of a hard draft before you go so I don’t fry my brain more with anxiety?”
Caleb suppressed a small smile at your words, finding them morbidly humorous. “My side of things will be meeting with you for the next couple of weeks or so, for assessing progress and such. As far as the other things go, that’s to be determined by this guy.” he hiked a thumb to Robby.
Robby inhaled then, looking to the ceiling in thought. “If your memories don’t resurface spontaneously, I’m sure there’s a way to work you back into the Pitt.” he finished, looking at you.
“The Pitt?”
“Yeah,” Robby shrugs. “Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center, ED in the basement—the Pitt.”
“Sounds like one of the circles of hell.”
Both Robby and Caleb laugh at your description, irony not lost on them.
“Some days, it feels like it.” Robby says as he scratches the nape of his neck. “But seriously, I mean it. I’m sure you could work amongst the student doctors. Retrace your steps, in a way. Work on remembering your progress while retaining your progress, if you catch my drift.” he seals the statement by saying ‘Doctor’ followed by your last name. It was both a gut punch and a gentle kiss to the temple at the same time.
“Does that mean I’d have to restart?”
Robby shook his head. “Not unless you remember things as you go. Doctor Jefferson introduced the concept of exposure leading to resolve—restoration. For all we know, if we’re lucky, you could snap back to where you were in a few months or less. Bend right back into shape before you get too far into your first year of residency, go about it as planned, almost as if nothing happened. You’re a smart kid, you’ll manage, I’m sure.”
“Let’s not dream too big, now. I’m all for the hopeful perspective, trust me, but I don’t want anyone to get their hopes up. It’s all about-“
“Patience. Yes, I know.” you said dramatically, interrupting Caleb before he could say the damn word himself.
He smiled. “It truly is vital to the process, but it’s a tedious task, I’m aware. I don’t blame you for your frustration.”
You glance down to his badge, then back up to his eyes. “Do you have a nickname I should call you, too?” Of course it was a desperate reach to get away from the subject at hand, but you were also curious.
“Just Caleb is fine. If I went the last name nickname route, I’d be going by Jeff. If I recall correctly, there’s an extremely annoying meme with that name that ran into the ground. I’d rather not.” he whispered the last bit. The source of the meme played in your head, prompting a giggle. To nobody’s surprise, you winced.
“Sorry kid, but you’ve got about another hour or so before you can get more Tylenol. Want an ice pack for your-” Robby went to talk about your ribs before realizing you could use an ice pack for literally everything.
“That would be greatly appreciated, actually. Yes.”
“Sounds good, I’ll make sure you get a couple. Or a few.” he smiled as he opened the same door he initially came in through, only letting it shut once Caleb made his way out.
At the same time Robby stepped away from 9, Dennis was exiting 13. They made eye contact and Robby quickly muttered a parting statement to Caleb, making his way over.
“Before you freak out on me, she’s fine. Head CT is clear, ribs aren’t broken, she just has a contusion, and her wrist isn’t fractured. She has a TFCC tear, but it's minor. No surgery.”
Dennis let out a breath, one he had seemingly been holding since the moment he found out you needed an X-ray in general. “Okay, yeah. T-that’s, that’s great.”
Robby studied him for a minute, debating something. “If I give you a task, are you able to be normal about it? No anxious antics?”
“Yeah, yeah. I’m good. W-what is it?”
“Get her a couple of ice packs.”
“And bring them to you?”
“No, take them to her.”
“A-are you sure?”
“If you are, yes.”
“Okay, yeah. I got it.”
As Dennis began to walk off, Robby grabbed one of his shoulders. “Wait.”
Dennis looked back at him, awaiting what he was going to say.
“When I walked into her room, Santos was in there with her. She ended up asking me about how she performs as a doctor. So, she knows. Knows that she works here, that she’s a doctor, that we’re all acquainted in one way or another. I don’t know how far her understanding goes, so don’t be…affectionate.” Robby squinted as he said the last word, as if it were odd for him to have to say. “Just keep it friendly, for now.”
Dennis looked more exhausted and defeated, if that were even possible. “Are you serious? Jefferson specifically said to not try and spark her memory.”
“Whitaker, she’s fine. Santos used the word ‘interview’, so I believe it was her who made Santos talk about it. Plus, you saw Jefferson, he was in there with me. I gave the girl her phone back and everything. If something stood out to him, he’d of told me, alright? She is handling all of this exceptionally well, all things considered. And I’m no expert, but I don’t think we should continue to walk around eggshells where she’s involved. You know her better than I do, better than most of us do, that’s not what she’d want. Be ready to offer a helping hand when she decides she wants to rip the bandaid off. Sound good?” Robby put his fists out.
Dennis swallowed, nodding quickly as he fist bumped Robby. He wet his lips before immediately focusing on the task at hand. He could make it fast, get you the crackable ice packs that are stored all around, but those tend to acclimate to the skin too fast. He wanted to get you the best of the best, you deserved it. Always. Scrambling through the bustling traffic in the hallway, he finally made it to where he needed to be. He grabbed two of the reusable ice packs, finding himself subconsciously slowing down–his next location, your room. It was intimidating. ‘Suck it up, Huckleberry’ he imagined Trinity’s voice. It irked him for a moment, but then it was motivation. No eggshells.
“Uh, hey.” Yet another knock was at the left door. That poor door was taking the brunt of all the guests. “I come bearing gifts.”
Your eyes looked up to see Dennis walking in, ice packs on deck. Thankfully, you were already sitting up, legs crisscrossed. You felt more confident this way, like you weren’t some malady that needed treatment. You were fine, you could manage ice packs yourself.
He set the ice packs in front of you on the bed, seeing the bag that held your phone. “You uh…you turn it on yet?” It was almost frightening to imagine. You, turning on your phone and seeing traces of him and your life sprinkled everywhere, things you forgot.
“Ugh, thank you.” you said casually, reaching forward and grabbing one of the ice packs, holding it to your wrist. “And no, my head is starting to bother me again and I can safely assume a screen would make it worse.”
“D-do you have a fever?”
You went to answer, but the back of his hand was already gently pressed against your forehead. His hands were soft, despite the amount of hand sanitizer you knew he and all other doctors went through on a daily basis. From the mildly earthy yet sterile smell of his hands, you could picture it–him, applying a hypoallergenic, fragrance and oil free hand lotion that he picked out after spending hours in an aisle, deep diving into which lotion was the safest for future patients.
“Is this really the best method?” you looked up at him through your eyelashes, not moving your head. His eyes met yours before widening, just a touch.
“Right.” Dennis hastily retracted his hand, glancing over to the TA thermometer. “Do you want me to…” he trailed off, not finishing the question based off of the look on your face. He mentally facepalmed…had he really just put his hand–ungloved, at that–on your forehead?
“Was it hot?”
He shook his head softly, now angled towards the floor, wetting his lower lip. A habit you quickly noticed he had. “Uh, no. No, it felt…good to me.” Another mental facepalm. He needed to get it together.
“Then I don’t think we need to check again. I feel fine.”
“Good. You look fine.” He did not mean it like that. It wasn’t untrue, but… Jesus Christ. He had to get out of here before he embarrassed himself more. Where did his years of medical school go? Down the drain, just like that?
“Thanks. I was worried that the gown and the swelling of my head had the opposite effect.”
His heart ached at the sight. “It’s not swollen, not really.”
“I can practically see the bump on my forehead just by looking up, no mirror needed. Don’t lie to me, Whitaker.”
There it was, his name, slipping out of your mouth with a quickness. He hadn’t expected it. He felt blood rushing up to his face. “I-it’s really not bad, I swear.” his hands were reaching out in front of him, almost mediating. “It’s more of a quail egg than a goose egg.”
“A quail egg?”
He raised a hand, briefly pinching at nothing to display the size. “Yeah. I-I grew up on a farm. We had quails.”
“Oh.” you said, genuinely intrigued. “That sounds…fun.”
Dennis laughed nervously. “It has its moments. Gets kind of difficult when you’re emotionally attached to the animals.”
“Oh.”
“Not to dampen the mood.” he waved his hands around for a second before interlocking them behind his back. Stay still, be cool.
“No, it’s okay. It’s nice to talk about something other than me for once.”
Robby approached the left door, shocker, and knocked on it. Dennis’ head whipped to look. Robby didn't come in, he simply looked at Dennis over his glasses and gestured for him to wrap things up before he walked off.
Dennis slowly looked back at you, a soft look on his face. “Happy to be of service somehow.” he offered a small smile. “I should go. Busy day.” he said it to you as if it should be relatable. You could imagine it, but you didn’t feel it. You hoped to remember, soon. You’d give anything to know what it felt like to have your feet ache after a long day of working as a doctor, or even deal with a dickish patient. Anything to be in it again.
“Well, I give you five stars.”
“Sorry?”
“Five star service.”
He laughed softly, and it was genuine. Not born of embarrassment or awkwardness. “Of course. Anytime, just not…now.”
“Right, because you gotta go. I get it.”
He held your gaze for a heartbeat too long, but neither of you wavered. It only ceased the second he turned his back and left. Once the door was shut, he couldn’t help but rest his back against it, face hot. He was like that for a solid ten seconds before Langdon brought him back to reality.
“She can see you, you know.” Frank pointed to the door. Dennis was resting right in the middle of the window.
He quickly pushed off the door, glancing back into the room. You were simply observing, the faintest smile on your lips. He smiled too, waving awkwardly before he walked off.
“Smooth, Huckleberry.” Langdon looked amused.
“Don’t let Santos hear you call me that.” Dennis replied, walking behind Frank as they made their way to the hub. It was his polite way of saying to not call him that.
“Noted. Won’t say it again. But, you gotta admit, it is tempting when you hear it after so many times.”
“How many times could she have called me that in the span of two weeks?” He immediately felt guilty after asking. He didn’t mean it like that and he definitely did not mean to poke at the wound, to jab at the fact Frank just got back.
“Huckleberry.” Trinity’s voice rang out from the other side of the hub. She had a ‘what the fuck’ look on her face.
“Uh, a lot, apparently.” Frank glanced at her for not even a millisecond before he left, entering room 6, leaving Dennis right where he was at.
Trinity didn’t waste a second, meeting him at the other side. “Got a new best friend, do we?”
“Don’t worry, I’m pretty sure I just killed any chance at that.”
“Lucky me.” she smiled sarcastically. “So, how’d it go?”
“What?”
She raised her brows.
“Oh, right. It actually went pretty good. Near the end, at least. I was embarrassing.”
“Ah, so, everything went as usual.”
He looked at her through heavy-lidded eyes.
“What? You denying the allegations?”
“No.” he grumbled, moving so he could peer up at the TV to see the trackboard.
“Good. Denial wouldn’t look good on you.” Trinity damn near rested her head on his shoulder as she looked as well. “Busy as shit. Nice talk, Huckleberry. Gotta get back to it.” She gave him a firm pat on the back before she plopped down at a charting station.
“Nice talk.” Dennis said, mainly to himself. His eyes focused on your name, a shiver threatening to jolt up his spine as he remembered the way his world stopped when he had first noticed it. He almost kicked himself for not seeing it sooner, but you were okay, stable. And eventually—hopefully sooner than later—everything would go back to normal, with patience. Word of the day, it appeared. His hands buzzed, as if keeping the feeling of your skin on his alive. How on earth would he manage?
synopsis: jack abbot is obsessed with you and he's going to make it everybody else's problem
- or -
5 moments the night shift (and co) observes between you and jack + the 1 they don't
contains: bsf night shift crew!! dana & the pittlings cameo, he fell first AND he fell harder, age gap (reader is in her 20's), suggestive at times, everyone calls reader sweets, no use of y/n, jack is probably ooc but i refuse to believe that man does not yearn deeply and he is written so, and most importantly: NIGHT SHIFT SUPREMACY
note: first fic for the pitt because i think i might have actually read my way through every fic on here and i crave more pls be nice to me :') this started off as a completely different fic and then it became this instead so there's a half written part 2 (and a part 3 …) if anyone really wants it. yes i did write this instead of the giant piles of actual work i have to do i hope you enjoy <3
dividers by @uzmacchiato <3
1. The Crush
It’s been exactly one week since you joined the night shift. Six days, twenty three hours, and thirty one minutes technically speaking but who was counting.
In that time you’d made yourself indispensable. You were one of the most competent nurses to ever walk through the doors of the PTMC. You were practically hard wired to thrive in the absolute chaos of the night. And, best of all, you’d become Shen’s caffeine addicted partner in crime. Five out of your last seven days you’d dragged him into a pre-shift coffee run and he always complied with your demands.
The night shift wasn’t easy for just anyone to take to. It was hard and yet here you were, doing it all flawlessly. And Jack couldn’t look away. Not that he’d ever want to.
It’d taken no time at all, about five hours into your first shift, for him to become borderline obsessed. All it took was one conversation in the ambulance bay just after midnight. A joke cracked under the light of the full moon, one that broke through the stern expression he’d had on with no hesitation at all, for Jack to want to know every single little detail that made up who you were.
In a normal way of course.
Now here he was. Watching. Eyes following you as you walked into the ED beside Shen, both of you carrying trays piled high with various hot and iced drinks. He can’t imagine how much even one of those things cost.
Within moments most of the drinks are gone, taken by Ellis and Lena and whoever else had placed their order with the two of you the night before. Jack, for just a moment, regrets not having done so. Not that he even likes the sugary sweet monstrosities you always chug your way through before midnight, always somehow armed with another one to get you through your second half of the night.
He’d pretend though. Especially if it meant you’d stop and smile at him and maybe even talk to him for just a couple seconds about something not medicine related before diving into the mayhem.
“Hey!” Your voice isn’t a hallucination, Jack determines when he sees you walking up to him with a smile.
He tries not to look too surprised. Or flustered. Or excited. “Hi.”
Nailed it.
“I brought you something.”
Jack thinks he might melt into the floor.
You hold out a drink, one clearly meant for him. It’s green on top and pink on bottom with strawberry slices floating above the ice.
“You didn’t have to.” He takes it from you and relishes in the brief moment that his hand touches yours. You need to calm down, he thinks to himself.
“I know, I wanted to. It’s on me.” You say it so easily and Jack thinks now might be a good time to excuse himself and go jump off the roof because he can feel his whole body warming in a way it shouldn’t be at the sentiment.
You’d thought of him. Part of him wonders how long you’d been doing that for and if it was for as long as he’d been thinking of you. Day and night. Hour after hour. In ways he definitely shouldn’t be.
“I just figured you could use a little caffeine that wasn’t the stale black coffee in the break room for once,” You shrug like it’s nothing but it means everything to him. “As a certified drink specialist I thought you might like this one. Shen said I was crazy for picking it but I spent every minute I was awake looking through the cafe's menu debating and I think I finally narrowed down something to live up to your incredibly high standards.”
Jack had stopped listening as soon as you looked up at him. Wide eyed and a little nervous but with that sweet smile he was maybe just a little bit obsessed with already. “What is it?”
Frankly, he didn’t really care. He’d love it no matter what because you’d been the one to hand it to him. You’d put effort into finding something you thought he’d like and that was more than enough for him.
“An iced strawberry oat milk matcha. It’s not too sweet but definitely a step up from a black coffee. I,” You stop yourself for a second, hesitating a little. One look from him though, one that practically begged you to continue, and you kept going. “I see the face you make when you drink it even when it’s fresh so I thought we’d switch it up a little.”
You’d noticed him. He was one more observation away from imploding. He swirled the drink around to distract himself from the fact and then took a huge gulp.
“Holy shit,” His eyes went wide as he took a second to savor the drink. It was good. Really good. He had no clue how you’d figured him out so perfectly. Part of him was hopeful enough to think that you just knew him. Saw him. He took another sip.
“You like it?” You were beaming at him now, satisfied and proud of yourself.
He couldn’t be more obsessed with you if he tried. He was tempted to propose marriage right then and there. Instead all he said was, “This is phenomenal.”
Jack couldn’t help himself. He looked directly at you and hoped that maybe these abilities of yours to read him perfectly well extended past the drinks and you’d be able to look into his head to see what he really wanted to say. You’re phenomenal. I like you. Probably more than is healthy. Never leave me, actually.
“Oh you’re kidding,” Jack had almost forgotten where he was until Shen walked over, handing you a half drunk iced coffee along with a fresh one for later, just like usual. “He liked it?”
“Just like I said,” You held up your hand for a high five, which Shen gave you despite dropping his head and groaning. “Which means you’re buying for me tomorrow.”
Jack rolled his eyes at the sight of the two of you. His smile pushed through the serious facade he was trying to put on. Nothing could ruin his mood right now he was positive of it.
“Is it that surprising?” Jack held his drink a little tighter and held back the urge to take another sip of it. He was seriously already starting to understand your guys' shared obsession with always having some kind of drink on you.
“No, it’s just,” Shen paused for a moment and it hit him all at once. Abbot was in a good mood. And all it’d taken was a personal delivery straight from you. He was wearing a smile, a genuine one. Best of all, his eyes kept straying back to you. Like you were some kind of magnet pulling him in against his will. Oh yeah, he’s obsessed. “I’m glad you found something you like.”
Jack heard it. The tone. His eyes snapped back to Shen and narrowed the slightest bit. All he did in response was wink at him and take a sip of his first coffee of the night.
He could see right through him.
2. The Confession
It had been three days of this and every time Jack saw you he felt the question at the tip of his tongue. And every time something else came out instead. So here he was. Two weeks into your time here and he was obsessed with you. That much he could admit.
If he wasn’t he wouldn’t be lingering by the nurses desk, pretending to look at a stack of papers he was pretty sure were blank. Every few seconds he glances up to where you were deep in a conversation with Ellis and Walsh. The three of you had gotten yourself partnered on the same case and were taking advantage of the fact that your patient was doing perfectly after surgery to actually talk about something normal while you could since you found yourselves with a little downtime.
“You don’t have to hover, you know.”
Jack freezes.
He thinks he might’ve actually stopped breathing. He knows exactly what Lena’s talking about though and he’s determined to lie his way through it.
“What?”
Okay, maybe not the best start. He doesn’t look up from where he’s pretending to flip through whatever papers were in front of him. Definitely not eavesdropping.
“Oh, please,” Lena rolls her eyes and leans back in her chair. “She’s not gonna disappear into thin air. You can get work done and I promise she’ll be there after.”
“I don’t know what you mean.” Jack betrays himself when he glances back over in your direction. He smiles to himself when he sees you laugh, a beaming grin on your face. When he looks back towards Lena she’s already staring at him with her arms crossed.
“I think you just might be the world's worst liar,” Lena leans forward conspiratorially. Her voice drops when she asks, “So when are you gonna ask her on a date instead of moping around?”
Jack freezes again, “What are you talking about?”
“Seriously?” She lets out a disbelieving laugh at his bad attempt at faking innocence. “You’re worse than a kid with their first crush, it’s a miracle she hasn’t noticed yet.”
Okay so maybe she had a point, Jack could admit that much. He remembers the first time he’d seen you here clearly. He’d felt some kind of pull towards you the moment you entered the PTMC just over a year ago. It’d been easy to ignore then, though. You’d just graduated and had been doing an emergency medicine residency program under Dana during the day shift and it was only every now and then he’d be there at the same time too. Yet every time he did happen to work with you, even for a fleeting moment, it was like the entire place shifted a little bit.
Dana had even stopped him one time, so casually that he hadn’t even questioned why she was calling him. “You better watch yourself, Abbot. That’s my girl, best one to come through here in ages. Last thing she needs is you distracting her.”
He’d scoffed at the statement at the time, claiming that it wasn’t like that. It had been exactly like that, though. He knew that now. You’d been easy to avoid when you were on day shift but now you were here all the time and he couldn’t imagine not finding every reason he could to stick to your side.
“She’s not one of yours, you know. She’s one of mine,” Lena’s voice brings him out of it. There’s an I told you so look on her face that he rolls his eyes at. “I’m just saying, the paperwork will be a lot easier to fill out.”
“Aren’t you a romantic,” He knows he can trust Lena, though. If it was really a bad idea she’d tell him so with zero hesitation. So finally, hesitantly, he says, “I’ll think about it.”
***
Jack barely needed time to think about it. He had made his choice quickly and it was eating him up inside. It was just past 7 AM and he could hear the day shift and night shift looking for you both. His time with you was running out and fast. It was just the two of you alone in the room, your patient had just miraculously gotten a bed upstairs and you’d been there to ensure a smooth transition. Maybe that was his sign that you’d say yes.
He stops you before you can pull the curtain open to let them know the room was now open. He reaches for your hand, grabs your waist, and spins you around to look at him in a single swift move. “When can I see you again?”
The question doesn’t phase you.
“In about twelve hours.” You answer him with a teasing smile, choosing to stay just a little bit too close to him instead of stepping back.
“You know what I mean, honey.”
And then you look at him in a way that’s new. Your smile turns less teasing and falls a bit. It makes you look a little more vulnerable. He watches your eyes flicker across his face and he knows you’re trying to see what he’s really made of. If he really means it. He wants to shout the truth to you in that moment. That he can’t get enough of you.
“Say it,” Your voice comes out soft and he wonders briefly if you can read his mind. You step a little bit closer to him. “Tell me what you really want from me.”
Jack is painfully aware of the voices and footsteps coming closer. They’ll walk in any moment now, he knows it. He glances towards the door and when he looks back he can see you about to step away, thinking he wasn’t going to tell you the truth. He blurts it out before you can.
“Everything.” He says it so easily that it makes your breath hitch a little bit, he can see it happen. “I want to take you on a real date again and then take you home with me because you will not believe how hard it is to sleep without you next to me. When I wake up I want to just lay there looking at you for a little bit wondering how the hell you agreed to all of that. And then I want to do that over and over again until you get sick of me.”
You don’t say anything after his confession. A few seconds pass where you just let the words sink in and then, “Only if your plan includes taking me to that cute little cafe down the street too.”
“Whenever you want.” Jack’s never agreed to anything so fast in his life.
“Right answer,” You finally will yourself to step away and swing the curtain open. Before you walk away you look at him again and the teasing smile is back. “I’ll meet you outside in a bit?”
He walks towards you again and he’s really pushing it when he stands so close you can feel the heat of him. “Odds we can sneak out of here before they can stop us?”
“Abbot!” Dana's voice.
You laugh at the way he groans as his head falls onto your shoulder briefly. “Not likely.”
3. The Kiss
It’d only taken a month for everything the night shift knew about Jack to change. It had also been a month since you’d joined them. The two things had to be related. They just couldn’t prove it yet.
“Hey,” Ellis whispered as she practically ran to where Shen and Lena were deep in a conversation. There was an uneasy look in her eyes as she looked around, as if she was expecting someone to overhear what she was about to say. “Is he being weird?”
They look towards where she had subtly nodded and found Jack. He was in an exam room laughing with a patient as he finished stitching him up. Laughing.
Night shift chief attending Dr. Jack Abbot was in a good mood. For the first time maybe ever, as far as they knew. At least publicly in a good mood. He was never like this at work, always opting for serious and stoic with his patients because he needed to be at a job like this.
But this was his third patient in a row now that he made easy conversation with. It was a lot more than pleasantries and small talk, it was real conversations. Questions about themselves and their lives and jokes traded back and forth. It was unsettling, frankly.
“Thank you! I told you something was up with him,” Shen slams a hand down on the counter before looking at Lena and leaning forward the same way Ellis was, mocking concern. “ Have we tested him for any substance use lately?”
“Alright drama queens,” Lena rolls her eyes at them and leans back in her chair. “Why can’t he just be having a good night?”
Ellis shakes her head at that, nose scrunching as she disagrees, “No, I think he might actually be physically incapable of that.”
“Well what do you think it is then?”
“I think he got laid,” She says it confidently and with zero hesitation at all. Shen chokes on his drink and Lena’s eyes go wide as saucers. “What? He’s all glowy and shit, there is literally no other explanation?”
“Explanation for what?” Your voice comes out of nowhere and Ellis and Shen nearly jump out of their skin.
“For,” Ellis recovers faster and quickly glances at Lena and Shen, neither of which provide any help. “For why Shen’s guy in south 18 is really concussed.”
“Oh he’s having an affair with his neighbor for sure,” You set your tablet down and swipe your badge along the card reader at one of the computers. “This guy shows up with his pants backwards, shirt inside out, and his left shoe missing and he expects us to believe he just tripped while on a late night walk?”
It’s at that moment that Shen notices it. There’s no iced coffee in your usual place. It’s always right there, tucked in the corner of the desk Lena sits behind. You always reach for it every time you’re nearby, it’s how you make your way through it faster than almost anyone else. He watches carefully as you reach in that exact direction subconsciously before pulling your hand back. Empty.
“Where’s your drink?” He blurts the question out suddenly and you glance up at him.
“What?”
“Your drink,” He glances at Ellis and Lena and they can see the real question in his eyes. “You always leave it right there. It’s barely nine, there’s no way you’ve had enough downtime to finish it already.”
“Oh,” You go back to the computer screen and shrug. “I just woke up late, didn’t have time to stop.”
“Right,” Shen’s eyes narrow at you but he doesn’t say anything else. That’s when he notices Jack leave his patient's room and walk in the direction of the break room. “Hey, my second one is in the fridge if you want it?”
You sit up instantly and immediately a little bit of life fills you again. So maybe you both had a little bit of an addiction. “Seriously?”
“Yeah, don’t worry about it.” And that’s all he has to say before you’re making a beeline to the break room, steps faltering just the slightest bit when you see Jack disappear through the door. Then you glance back at them, smile, and disappear in the same direction.
“No,” Shen shakes his head immediately. “It's a coincidence. There’s no way.”
“And what makes you so sure?” Lena, admittedly, is invested now.
“Uh, because Sweets is my best friend in the whole wide world and would have told me obviously,” He rolls his eyes like it's obvious. “Plus there’s no way Abbot would admit how deep he is in his feelings already. He’s due for at least another couple weeks of yearning from afar.”
“I don’t know, he might’ve,” Lena shrugs as she recalls all the little things she’s witnessed the last few weeks. “This is intense, even for him.”
“Besides, look who we’re talking about,” Ellis points out the fact that they all know is right. You were sunshine personified. The piece they didn’t even realise the night shift was missing. And it was just like Jack Abbot to want you all to himself. “He’d be crazy if he didn’t.”
“Wait,” Lena pieces it together first. The missing coffee. The good moods. The hesitation before your smile, the one that was just a little bit different than usual. Softer. “Didn’t they walk in together today?”
There’s a moment of silence as they all realize the same thing at the same time.
“First one to find out pays for the others drinks for the next two weeks?”
“Deal.”
“You’re on.”
***
“You’re insane.”
Jack only grins at you as he locks the door of the supply closet behind him. He wastes no time at all and immediately wraps you up in his arms, skipping all formalities and letting his mouth fall to your neck. “I thought that’s why you liked me”
He knows now how easy you are to distract. One glance at you and how your eyes have fluttered shut already confirms that. You let out a content little sigh as you pull him closer to you, “Among other reasons.”
The noise that fills the pitt disappears and suddenly all you know is Jack. His hands wandering underneath your shirt. His mouth on every bit of skin he can reach. The way he cages you in between his body and the shelf behind you and holds you like he’s afraid you’ll disappear.
“Jack seriously,” It takes every bit of your self control to pull yourself back and attempt to look at him for real. “We can’t do this here.”
“We're alone, honey. No one has to know,” He doesn’t even look at you, eyes trained on your lips instead. He slips your scrub top over your head leaving you in just the thin, see-through, white undershirt. You're both quickly losing all sense of rationality.
“Someone’s gonna come looking for us”
“I'm their boss, I'll make them go away,” One of his hands tangles in your hair this time and he pulls your head back so he can look into your eyes. Blown out pupils, breaths falling heavy, lips swollen from how you’d been biting them in an effort to keep quiet. He groans a little bit at the sight. “Just this once, baby, I swear,” He kisses you. Really kisses you. Long and slow and deep. Enough to make your thoughts go blurry and your knees weak. He pulls away the slightest bit and smirks when you chase the feeling of him. “Promise.”
“You know, somehow I don’t believe you.” He laughs then, pretending he doesn’t notice you start to push his own shirt up little by little. Your hands are cold on the warm, bare skin of his chest and he shivers a little bit, smiling even wider. He's addicted to you, he thinks.
“Can you blame me?” Another kiss, this time picking up where he left off before. “You’re perfect.”
Someone pulls on the door seconds later, just as his hands start wandering lower.
“Why is this door locked!”
You slip your scrub shirt back on in record time and Jack pushes you behind him when he goes to open the door as Ellis starts pounding on it. “I swear to god I -”
She doesn’t see you when he opens it. Not at first.
“Can I help you?” Jack asks the question like nothing is wrong in the slightest.
Ellis looks around for a second, trying to determine if anyone else was seeing this or if she had finally entered a state of hallucination. “I just need -”
That’s when she sees you. Tucked behind Jack, clothes a little crooked on your body and a little more disheveled than before. You’re smiling at her, only the slightest bit shy but mostly looking a little pleased. “I - hi?”
She doesn’t know what else to say to you.
“Hi,” You smile at her and step around Jack. “What did you need to grab?”
“I just - I just need a suture kit.”
You grab one off the shelf next to you and step around Jack, stopping for just a second to shoot him a smile. She watches him return the smile, absolutely noticing the way he reaches for you. His fingers barely skim against you when you step just a little too close to him, like even that feather light touch will get him through the rest of the night. You turn back towards her like nothing happened. “Do you want any help?”
“Uh, yeah. Sure.” Ellis tries not to stare when Jack grabs your hand for real, pulling you back and kissing you again, modestly this time. On your forehead as he whispers something to you that she can’t hear.
It’s not until you’ve walked further away from the storage closet that she leans a little closer to you. “Hey, are you two…you know?”
You laugh a little bit at the question. “Dating? I thought it was kinda obvious after that.”
“I didn’t want to assume.” Ellis laughs along with you and shakes her head, leading you in the direction of one of the rooms. Then she notices Shen and Lena out of the corner of her eye again and stops. “Hey, can you get started? I need to check with Lena about some lab results real quick.”
“Yeah, go for it! Take your time.”
Ellis watches you pull the curtain of the room closed. Then she waits until Jack has disappeared into another room on the other side of the ED, the most smug looking grin on his face, before she practically runs to the nurses desk. “They’re dating, I told you so.”
“What?”
“And we’re just supposed to believe you? How do you know?”
“I asked,” She pauses for a moment before leaning closer. “And I found them both in the supply closet with the door locked, you connect the dots.”
Shen’s face scrunches in disgust. “Ew.”
Lena on the other hand only lets out a sigh. “We’re gonna have to keep an eye on them aren't we?”
“Probably.” Ellis looks incredibly pleased as she starts walking back to the room you’d gone into. “I’ll send you guys my drink order before next shift.”
4. The Reveal
The day shift doesn’t usually notice when the night shift starts to trickle in. You remember it clearly, the way it feels like every single person with every single ailment known to mankind seems to congregate in the pitt all at once right before it’s time for shift change. That’s something you don’t miss. By the time you guys come in it feels settled. Or maybe you all just like to think so.
Either way, they definitely don’t notice when you and Jack walk in together, your bag slung over his shoulder. They’re too distracted by the drinks Shen and Lena walked in with, relegated to delivery service after losing some bet to Ellis.
All the noise is forgotten quickly. This, the rare quiet moment in the staff locker room where it feels like the whole world comes to a stand still, is Jack’s time to breathe. He watches you throw all your things into his locker, somehow getting to the point of sharing custody of one now in the last couple of weeks.
He knows you’re saying something. He can hear the sound of your voice but you’re also tying your hair up so it’s out of your way for the night and he loses all ability to think straight. Some kind of pavlovian response overtakes him and this feeling fills him up inside and suddenly he can’t help himself.
He stands up and it's like his hands move on their own without him meaning for them to. They set themselves firmly on your hips and pull them back, completely flush against him. He bunches the scrub top up and settles his hands underneath the long sleeve shirt you’re wearing under it. Your skin is warm under them and the little noise he lets out is perfectly content.
“Can I help you?” He can hear the smile you’re wearing when you ask the question and he can picture it perfectly.
“No,” Jack shakes his head a little and kisses your cheek. It lingers for a second before he starts moving down the expanse of your neck. “I’m fine. What were you saying?”
“You're so needy, you know that?”
“Are you complaining?” He doesn’t get a response from you. Instead your arms settle over his and you relax into his hold. He smirks. “That’s what I thought.”
You don’t get very long to escape into the moment.
“There you are. Robby’s looking for - woah,” The exhausted look on Santos' face turns into a shit-eating grin in a fraction of a second. “What’s going on here?”
Jack frowns when you wiggle out of his hold to turn to look at her.
“Hey,” You smile at her like she hadn’t just seen what she clearly just did. She shares a look with both Javadi and Whitaker who’d walked in with her. “How was your shift?”
“Uh, I'm sorry,” Javadi laughs in disbelief a little as she looks between the two of you. You, smiling brightly at her in the way she misses seeing so much on the day shift, and Jack, who looks like he’s never hated three people more. She’s pretty sure he’s committing their murders in his head. “What is this? When did this happen?”
Jack all of a sudden feels protective in that moment. Over your relationship that very much fuels his will to live and over you. Part of him is surprised you hadn’t told them yet. The first friends you’d made here, probably some of your closest, clearly had no idea about you and him. Then he remembers your opposite schedules and the constant cycle of work and being completely enveloped by the so-called honeymoon phase of your relationship he thinks might actually never end.
“Wait, did I not tell you guys?” You’re trying your hardest to trace back every moment of the last few weeks. Jack takes it upon himself to hand you your drink and grab his before shutting his locker, taking a second to just listen. One of his arms wraps around your waist again.
“You did not, sweets,” Santos shakes her head and speaks slowly, trying to push through her absolute shock at this revelation. And trying very hard not to stare at the casual display of affection from Jack Abbot of all people.
Whitaker is the one who recalls the last real interaction you’d had with them fastest. Somehow he’s the least surprised. “You spent all of breakfast the other day telling us about that kid you patched up with Ellis. The one who slipped off the fire escape trying to sneak into his girlfriend's room."
“You told Mel, Samira, and Langdon," Jack says it in between sips of his matcha like it’s nothing. “When you had them over for dinner at yours your last night off. You sent me a picture of their reactions.”
“Right!” You try your hardest to hold in a laugh at the recollection. Samira had shouted into a pillow. Mel had asked a lot of questions, incredibly excitedly. Frank had decided he needed to take a walk to process and stood on your balcony for ten minutes. “I guess I forgot, everything kinda blurs together. They didn’t tell you?”
“Sweets, I think you told the three least nosy people in the ED,” Santos makes a mental note to yell at all of them for keeping this from everyone else. “Of course they didn’t.”
Then your attention slips from Jack completely when Javadi prompts Whitaker to tell you about something that happened earlier. He stops listening completely, now perfectly distracted by the excited look in your eyes and the way you smile at them. And okay so maybe he’s a little bit clingy.
Jack wraps himself around you from behind again, arms now fully circling your waist. He does not hesitate in the slightest to pull you flush against him again either. He does exercise a little bit of self control though. There’s no kiss this time. Instead he let out a soft sigh and let his head fall onto your shoulder, chin resting against it silently as you talk.
He doesn’t notice the way Javadi covers her mouth with one hand to hold back the comment she wants to make out loud. Instead she points at the sight as subtly as she can and mouths “oh my god!” you only grin at her. You roll your eyes, pretending to be annoyed at Jack’s display, but you settle back into him anyway.
He also doesn’t notice the way Whitaker stares at him, eyes narrowed in his direction and head tipped to the side curiously, debating to himself whether or not Jack was actually in the room with them. Physically or mentally.
Santos, ever curious, is the one who finally cracks and breaks him out of his self induced trance. “Okay, I have to know. How did this even -”
“Hey!” Ellis cuts in before she can even ask the question all the way. She pops her head in the door, eyes skipping past everyone until they land on you and Jack. She doesn’t look phased by the sight in the slightest. She nods at you with a smile in greeting before looking at Jack. “If you don’t get out there in the next five seconds for hand-offs, Robby might just track down a guillotine and use it on you.”
“Alright, alright,” Jack rolls his eyes and takes his time standing up straight again. He lingers for as long as humanly possible. Another kiss, to your forehead this time, before he very begrudgingly lets you go one arm at a time. “I’ll see you out there.”
Jack keeps holding your hand as he walks out of the room, not letting a single second go to waste. He holds on until he takes a step too far and lets it fall out of his own. An absolutely devastating moment in his eyes.
“Later, kids.” He just barely glances at Whitaker, Javadi, and Santos, saluting them with two fingers before taking another sip of his drink and walking out of the locker room with Ellis, who hands him a tablet.
The silence sinks in around you. In those few moments your friends realize that Abbot’s whole little display is evidently very much normal for the night shift. And then -
“Since when does Abbot drink matcha?”
5. The Declaration
It was bordering on 2 AM when the trauma came in. A young girl, who’d just wanted some pancakes and coffee while pulling an all nighter studying for her upcoming SAT exam. She’d been hit by a drunk driver on her way home from the diner and was in rough shape.
The room was already tense. She’d coded in the ambulance and they’d only just managed to get her stable. Every single one of you held your breath as you all did everything in your power to try to save her.
It was really with no hesitation that everyone else took a backseat to you and Jack moving easily around each other. The two of you were the girls best bet at surviving, a well oiled machine at this point. In every sense of the phrase. You could anticipate what he was about to do before he even said it. All he’d have to do is give you a look and you just knew, you’d hand him whatever he needed, or ask someone else if your hands were full, and you were right every single time.
“Honestly I think the rest of us can go home,” Walsh, who’d been paged to consult and make sure the girl was stable enough for surgery, said from where she stood on the other side of the hospital bed from you and Jack. She was watching closely and honestly, was more than a little impressed. Especially when you pointed something out to Jack that he’d missed right before she could. “Our sweet little angel face over there has this whole place locked down.”
“Including Abbot,” Shen watches from beside Walsh, looking on curiously at the silent understanding between the two of you. “It’s like they have some freaky mind meld thing going on.”
“You think its contagious?” Walsh puts up her side of the bed railing, seeing that Jack was just about done.
“Hopefully not,” Shen makes a face at the thought. “I'm more than happy letting her be the one to keep him too busy to yell at the rest of us.”
Neither one of you notice their conversation in the slightest, too involved in each other even in a trauma room. It’s almost unsettling. The small little smiles and the bedroom eyes and whispered comments passed between the two of you. The way Jack pauses for just the briefest moment mid procedure to turn and send you a wink that makes you roll your eyes and grin back at him.
Walsh watches the whole interaction, positive the two of you have forgotten everyone else is the room. “This can't possibly be normal. Are they like this their whole shifts?”
Shen thinks for a moment before shaking his head, “It’s usually worse. Boarding on an HR violation is their normal.”
A moment passes where Walsh realizes that yeah, that kinda tracks considering the moments she’s been witness to up until this point. Then, to Shen’s horror, she smiles. “Hey, do you wanna see something funny?”
His eyes narrow at her but ultimately his curiosity gets the better of him. “I’m not taking responsibility for your funeral expenses if this goes badly.”
That only makes her smile wider.
Walsh maneuvers her way to your other side, taking the place of one of the other nurses that was there. Shen’s eyes go wide when she looks at him again. She speaks before he can shake his head to stop her, breaking you and Jack out of the little bubble you’d put yourselves in.
“You know you’re really good at this, Sweets,” Walsh grins when you look over at her instead and Jack hesitates for just a second. “When can I steal you to help me in the OR? You’d be amazing in there.”
“Anytime,” You meet her smile easily. “I’m always down for a change in scenery.”
“Perfect,” She smirks a little at your answer. “Name a day and time and I'll steal you all for myself.”
“Done,” The other side of the railing snaps up, maybe a little more harsh than it needs to be. Jack looks up, not a hint of the smile he’d been using with you left when he looks at Walsh. “You can go now.”
Walsh looks more than pleased by his reaction. She looks at Shen who’s trying his absolute hardest not to laugh giddily at what he just witnessed.
“Down, boy,” She unlocks the wheels of the hospital bed and smirks even wider when Jack removes his gloves and loops his fingers into the hem of your scrub top, pulling you back into his side. It’s completely subconscious, she realizes, when neither one of you seems to even notice it happens. “Even when I steal her from you for my OR you’ll still get to take her home at the end of the night.”
“Wait, hang on, that’s where I draw the line,” Shen unlocks the wheels on the other side and starts wheeling the bed out with her. “You are not taking our best nurse all for yourself. Especially not when she’s the one who also brings us our caffeine every shift.”
“You know, you’re only giving me more reasons to steal her.”
Neither one of them notices that you don’t follow. Instead, the room empties out and then it’s just you and Jack. The silence settles between you as Jack unties the back of your surgical gown. When you turn to face him again he speaks softly.
“You could go, you know. To the OR. If you wanted to.” Jack says it before you can say anything about it. “Walsh is right, you’d be a natural up there.”
“Jack -”
“You don’t have to stay here forever. I mean, Shen is also right. We’d miss you down here. It hasn’t even been a couple months yet and it feels like you were made to be here with m- with everyone -”
“Jack -”
“Even if you just wanted to try it out. I think you should. I mean it’s-”
You kiss him. Not in the storage closet or the locker room or in an on call room or behind a curtain like usual. Right there in the middle of a trauma room, windows wide open and the ED buzzing all around you.
Jack melts into you immediately. Hands moving to your hips to pull you closer before one moves to the back of your neck to deepen the kiss. A small groan leaves him when you pull away, the sweetest, most innocent smile on your lips.
“You talk too much,” A moment passes where you just stare at him, making sure he’s really listening to what you’re saying. “I’m not leaving the ED,” and then you add a little quieter, a little more shy, “You’re here.”
“I love you.”
Jack doesn’t know what possesses him to say it out loud here and now of all places for the very first time. But he feels it and he acknowledges it and there’s no way he can hold it in after that. There’s a need that settles deep in his bones and he knows he’s never going to want anything less than you right there with him always. Forever. He doesn’t know how he’d survive otherwise.
It takes a moment for what he said to sink in. You can see the intensity in his eyes, how much he feels it and means it. You really wish you were anywhere but the ED right now. Maybe if you wished really really hard you could somehow will everyone and everything to slow down long enough for you to sneak away with Jack for just a little bit.
Jack Abbot who loves you. The knowledge of that fact makes you feel warm all over.
“I love you too.”
+1. The Move
Jack is obsessed. He knows that for sure now.
With the way you kiss him and how you look at him after. With the way you let him be as attached to you as he needs to be at any given moment and you don’t mind at all. With the way you hold his hand and pretend not to notice when he moves his fingers to rest on your pulse point out of instinct. And especially with moments like these.
It’s pushing ten am and the two of you have only just left the hospital. A morning rush hour pileup meant that not only was there an influx of trauma’s coming in right before 7 but also that a good chunk of the staff were stuck behind the backed up traffic.
Despite the fifteen hour shift, you’re still happily nodding your head along to the soft music that fills Jack’s car. He watches you out of the corner of his eye. You’re mumbling the words to the song playing and taking sips out of the drink he’d just bought you, your third one of the day. His drink is sitting the cup holder. His second one, your habits had rubbed off on him.
The song switches once and then twice. By the time it switches a third time he’s watching you frown as you reach the bottom of your drink.
“Honey, don’t take this the wrong way,” He looks at you for a moment before looking back at the road. “But I think you might have a problem.”
“I do not!” You feign offense and turn towards him in your seat. “God forbid I treat myself to something nice after a long day.”
“What were the other two for then?”
“A treat for going to work and a pick me up for halfway, clearly.”
“Clearly.” Jack shakes his head as stops at a light. Silently, he drops one hand from the wheel and sets it palm side up on the center console. Almost immediately you’re placing your hand in his, the exact way he was craving.
The light turns green and he makes the split second decision then. He turns right, the direction that’ll let him turn around to head towards his place, instead of continuing straight, the direction that would take him to yours.
You watch as he does so, driving further and further away from your apartment. “Jack, what are you doing?”
He kisses the back of your hand. “Taking you back to mine since you’re clearly not planning on sleeping after all that caffeine.”
“Okay, one,” You turn to face him again, even while he’s driving. “I’ve built up a tolerance. This is nothing. And two, I've been out of clean clothes for like a week. I can only wash the ones I have there so many times.”
“So steal some of mine.” Jack shrugs and maybe the thought of you in his clothes is a little bit for him too.
“Bad idea, cause then neither of us will ever have clean clothes again.”
“I’ll buy you new ones then.”
“Not if I don’t let you.”
“Good luck stopping me.”
He’s winning and you both know it. So instead you say, “I have to stay at my place sometimes, what’s the point of even having it if I give in and always let you win these fun little arguments.”
The stop is sudden. Jack pulls over into the first empty spot he sees on the side of the road and turns to face you fully before you can ask him what he’s doing.
“You know what, honey? You’re right,” He leans towards you, fully leaning on the center console until he’s close enough to kiss you if he really wanted to. “There’s really no point in you paying for an apartment you’re barely ever in so I think it’s the perfect time for you to let me move you in with me.”
For a second you’re not sure if you heard him right. Maybe he was right and the cocktail of caffeine and sleep deprivation was finally making you imagine things. “What?”
“Move in with me.”
So you definitely heard him right.
“You’re not serious.”
“What makes you think I’m not?”
“It’s barely been three months,” You shake your head as if that should explain everything. “And we haven’t even technically been dating for that entire time.”
“What can I say, I know what I want,” You’re still looking at him in disbelief so Jack takes your hand again and he sounds more serious when he says it plainly. “What I want is you. Every morning, every night, every shift, every minute you’ll let me. If you’ll have me.”
“It’s too fast.” You’re only trying to convince yourself at this point.
Jack smiles at you, softer than before. “You’re forgetting I’ve been pining over you for more than a year now.”
You catch the implication immediately. It went way further back than just three months. All the way back to the day you walked through the doors of the PTMC halfway through him going through shift change. He’d lingered a lot longer than necessary and you had thought it was just normal for him.
“You’re crazy.”
“That’s why you love me.”
And he’s right. It’s the reason why you finally give in. “Will you at least let me split the rent with you?”
“I own the place.” Jack shrugs and you know for a fact that he’s not sorry in the slightest.
“Mortgage then.”
“Already paid off.”
“Bills?”
“Paid in advance for the next three months.”
“Groceries?”
“Not a chance.”
“50 50?”
“90 10.”
You huff a little and pout at him. He doesn’t fall for it, only pausing for a second to kiss the look off your face. “Are you ever going to let me win one of these arguments?”
“Not unless it’s in your best interest.”
“You’re insufferable.”
“And you love me for that too.”
Jack finally thinks for a moment and that’s when his eyes land on the drinks in the cupholder between the two of you, his half full one and your empty one. “How about I let you pay for my drink every time we stop for one?”
You light up at his proposition. “Will you let me pay for mine?”
“Only after the first one. First one I’m paying for,” He leans in a little bit closer, knowing he’s got you on his side now. “Consider it a compromise.”
“Works for me.”
“You can pay for Shen’s too,” He adds quickly before you can agree. “I refuse to fund his addiction, he’s worse than you.”
“Deal.” That makes you laugh and you finally lean in and kiss him, sealing everything in place.
He can taste the sugary vanilla drink that still lingers on your tongue and it makes him smile against your lips. “Will you let me take you to our home now?”
“Okay,” You kiss him again. You really can’t help it. “Take me to our place.”
I love your stories very much. Can you do Dennis Whitaker x tiktok cook reader. They are super cute together and in love. Every time when she tests recepies or films she sends food to Pitt with Dennis or she brings it when she knows they have tough shift. Bonus if she gives mentions Dr J in one of her videos and Javardi is over the moon
cooking mama frenzy | dennis whitaker x fem!reader
like, reblog & comment! requests are open; refer to the pinned post
Summary: The algorithm gods show Trinity Santos and Victoria Javadi a familiar face and much needed reprieve.
pairing: dennis whitaker x fem!reader
quick note: i'm sorry this is kinda ass you have no idea the week i've had lmao ANYWAYS I'M WRITING FOR JOHN TRUMAN CARTER III AND TRINITY SANTOS NOW!!!
"No fucking way."
Swearing in the ED is not unusual at all, especially coming from Trinity Santos. Still, Dana Evans prides herself on leading a somewhat respectful emergency department. Even though she can't control what certain patients spew from their mouths, at least she can do it with her colleagues. Therefore, she coughes pointedly at the resident who looks a bit mollified but immediately turns to Javadi, who is sitting beside her, shoving her phone in her face. The head nurse tries to motion to Robby, who is enjoying a rare moment of downtime, for some help that doesn't come. The attending simply shrugs and smiles, as if it's not that serious.
Ignoring both their superiors' silent exchange, Trinity scrolls back and forth on her screen, so that the video that has prompted her outburst starts from the beginning. Victoria leans her head down, curious about whatever the other resident is about to show her, and, as soon as you begin talking, her eyes widen at the screen.
"Is that...?"
Trinity nods. "Fucking Huckleberry."
Their best friend, Dennis Whitaker, looks back at them from a pastel-coloured kitchen that oddly fits him. The text on the screen gives away the content of the video: Making food for my boyfriend's shift at a hospital. The screen shows an assortment of ingredients that look top-quality, clearly nothing that Dennis could have bought on his meager allowance. Trinity can't help but grimace as she thinks back to what's inside her fridge. Grocery shopping has become an urgent state of affairs that she just cannot bring herself to do, tired as she is after every shift. That her best friend is getting such good sustenance for his body stirs both feelings of relief and jealousy in Trinity's chest.
All in all, the video is pretty normal for the standards of Trinity's algorithm. Whether the internet gods have recommended it to her because of how pretty you are, or because a machine saw the likeness of Dennis's face to some of her own videos, she'll never know. The video follows a simple structure. You take up central stage on the screen for the first few seconds as you explain the meal you will make this time.
Then, it cuts to the ingredients, which you list off with a pleasant voice, none of that fake cheeriness in other content creators. You also made sure that they can be easily found in any grocery store, nothing too fancy for a student salary.
The cooking process is very dynamic and, surprisingly, focuses more on the food than on your face, which while it should sound like common sense and practice, Trinity is aware of people who show themselves more than the product they're supposed to be selling. Your voiceover consists of talking about your day without revealing any personal details that could help anyone find out where you live. The camera sometimes cuts to Dennis whenever you refer to him.
Trinity is baffled at seeing how besotted and in love he looks at the camera, as if it is not even there, his eyes ignoring it and going straight to you, who are probably behind the whole setup. The most probable option is that all this could be staged, but she knows her best friend really well and knows his inability to lie to save his life. Right now, Dennis Whitaker is utterly enamoured of you, his girlfriend.
Javadi clears her throat beside her and points at the right corner of the screen. They both widen their eyes at the sheer number of likes and comments the video already has, even though it hasn't been 12 hours since it was posted. The gist of the thousands of comments is people babbling about "just how cute the two you are", or "we need more Dennis in the channel". They both laugh at some images embedded that compare him to both the guy in Ratatouille and the guy in The Bear.
"Hold on," Victoria whispers in a conspirational tone. "Is this why he has been bringing food here for everyone lately?"
"Shit, you might be right." Trinity scrolls through your profile, quickly noting the videos where Dennis appears. "His lunch looks much better than anything we have eaten since he started living at mine. Trust me, that kitchen is not apt for this gourmet shit."
Javadi hums and looks up, immediately jabbing her elbow on Trinity's side. Before the other girl can complain, she points toward the break room door. They barely catch the figure of Dennis disappearing through the threshold with an enormous bag in his hand. A quick nod between them, and they jump up, ready to power walk as fast as possible there, lest Dana scolds them again.
"Well, well, Huckleberry." Dennis starts at the sudden voice behind him, barely missing the small fridge door. He turns around with a furrow that deepens even more at the sight of Trinity's and Victoria's twin smirks.
"Yes, Trinity?"
"Thought we wouldn't find your dirty little secret?"
He sighs with the weight of someone accustomed to years of his best friend's antics. "What secret?"
Trinity holds her phone triumphantly, screen pointed at Dennis, and the video that had started it all, playing for him. Trinity is taken aback at the visible physical reaction your voice has on him, all the tension in his countenance immediately melting like wax.
"You're fucking weird, Huckleberry," she says, pausing the video. The little shit just shrugs his shoulders with a smile. "You get off to her voice too?"
"That is confidential information," Dennis rolls his eyes. "Is that all you guys wanted to talk about?"
Now it's Victoria's turn to speak her mind. "Why didn't you tell us about her?"
"First of all," Dennis sits down in an empty chair. "She is a very private person; which is normal in her line of work. Second of all, you really never connected the dots? I've been bringing her food here for almost a year."
Trinity grumbles. "While that's all very chivalric, Huckleberry, you still haven't told us anything about her. Does she even know we exist?"
"I gather then that you haven't watched until the end of the video."
Confused by the enigmatic words, they both lean toward Trinity's phone screen once again. There Dennis is, looking happier than ever after trying your food. The screen turns toward you as you list off your main fans and most avid followers.
"And before I log off, I would like to dedicate this video to @/Dr. J, with whom I hope to make a collaboration soon enough!"
The high-pitched scream that resounds throughout the whole ER is the last straw for Dana, who marches on toward the break room. Robby watches her go, shooting up a quick prayer to the three youths in his mind.
✨️Bug✨️ @corpsehusband-simp - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
