A/N: THIS IS A LONG POST. I just found the perfect face claim for my Open Heart MC last month, and I’m glad to participate @openheartfanfics Meet My MC this time!
This is a long post because I enjoyed writing her background story and her past relationships. Plus, I miss Open Heart so much. This is the first time that I’m writing a long post for my MC. English is not my first language! 😊
Book: Open Heart
Meet My MC - Dr. Cass Smith
Full Name: Cassandra Nicole Smith
Nickname: Cass (all), Nic (family), Rookie (Ethan)
Face Claim: Lucy Boynton
Birthdate/Age: November 11 / 28 years old
Height: 5′8″
Hair: Blonde
Eye Color: Green
Nationality: French-American
Education: BS in Biochemistry, University of Oxford; Johns Hopkins University (med school)
Occupation: Internal Medicine Physician, Head of Diagnostics Team at Edenbrook Hospital
Hometown: Los Angeles, California
Family: Bernard Smith (American, father), Caroline Smith (French, mother), Calvin Smith (younger brother), Isabella Smith & Trixie Laurent (closest cousins)
Random facts: only Doctor in her family, innovative, friendly, loves to travel, multilingual, fashionable, has an high IQ level, competitive, loves wine, bookworm, has a good taste in music, loves photography and paintings, excellent in math and science, loves outdoor sceneries, crafty, curious, loves to hear that others call her as a Doctor, loves to make time for her loved ones, hates people who brings other people down
Background
Cass came from a famous and one of the wealthiest family in America, owning a real-estate company, from her Dad’s side. Cass’ mother is a theater actress in France and her family is a traditional French family. Cass is born and raised in LA. She is very close with her cousins. Her brother, Calvin, is 3 years younger than her, and they are very close to each other.
Cass is granted an academic acceleration. As a 6 year-old, she told her parents that she wants to be a doctor someday, and her parents were so proud of her. She was inspired by the things that she saw inside the hospital when her brother was brought in there because of fever.
She is an academic achiever from the beginning. Her classmates labeled her as the ‘little Einstein’. Few people hates her because she came from a wealthy family and they said she only got the academic acceleration because of them. Cass didn’t give a damn at them. She has friends that she treasures the most. Most of the people knows that she’s an intelligent girl.
She is also excellent in singing and playing musical instruments. She also loves dancing, but she is very shy to show it. She took extra classes, such as cooking classes, language classes etc., as suggested by her mother. Bernard is a cool dad to her, he supports her in every ways that he can.
She chose England to start her medical career. She worked as a barista in a coffee shop near her apartment to prepare for medschool. She also took part-time jobs during her times in Oxford. Although her parents insisted to pay for her tuition for her Bachelor’s degree, she told them that she will be the one to pay for medschool. She has an outstanding research and that made her name afloat in medical journals. She went back to America because of a disaster happened to her life. She studied medicine in Johns Hopkins. Although she is facing hard times, she managed to overcome the sorrow that she felt and maintained her academic prowess. She graduated top of her class both in Oxford and in Johns Hopkins.
She decided to apply in many hospitals in America. All of her applications were accepted. But there is something about Edenbrook that she can’t understand, so she decided to move to Boston. She read all of Ethan Ramsey’s works but she is the type of person who do not search for the face of their medical heroes. She was confident when she did the emergency thoracotomy in her first day, with Ethan. She feels intimidated (and blushed slightly) when she looks at Ethan bright blue eyes after he steadied her hand. Ever since that disaster happened in England, love is not present in Cass’ vocabulary until she saw Ethan as a person, and not as Doctor Ramsey. They got officially together during the Hopeful Hearts gala.
After she finished her residency, Ethan offered her to be the Head of the Diagnostics Team, and she wholeheartedly accepted it. She became famous because of her published researches. She is also famous for her diagnostic skills. She didn’t really plan to leave Boston, because she got everything that she wanted in her life, in this city. She met her wonderful roomies, who became her eternal bestfriends. She met the love of her life. She’s about to build a family, with the love of her life. For the first time ever, in her life, she felt happy, complete and satisfied.
Romantic Relationships
During her times in England, she met her first boyfriend, Edward Craig. They met in an art exhibit. Cass and her friends went to the art exhibit, suggested by her friend. Cass doesn’t know the artist who created the paintings, but she is amazed by them. Edward approached her and she was surprised that he’s the one who is behind those paintings. She was embarrassed because she criticized his work. They find each other interesting and they found that they were studying in one same school. They were together for 4 years. They were the ‘couple goals’ in their university. It was cut short because Edward died in a road accident.
Two and a half years after, her cousins and friends urge her to date again. Cass admitted that she isn’t in her full mind and whole heart to love again after that incident. She met Paul, in her med school days. He isn’t a med student. They met at a concert, he happens to be the lead singer of a band. They were sweet at first. Cass still find a time for him, although she is busy with her studies while Paul is busy with his city tours. They still find a little time for each other. Until one day, Cass caught Paul cheating on her with his ex-girlfriend. Cass fully erased the word ‘love’ in her mind.
She firmly said that she wants her next boyfriend to be her future spouse. After many years, she finally moved on with the ‘England disaster’, as she say, but she still remembers him in heart. Cass secured her heart when she took the residency in Edenbrook. But things happen. She met Ethan Ramsey. The road is not easy, though. This man is the exact opposite of her previous boyfriends. Honestly, Ethan made a whole new impression to Cass.
She met men that begs for her attention, but this is different. She fully acknowledged her growing feelings for Ethan during their moment in Miami. She was deeply hurt by her previous relationships, but this is a new level of pain for her.
She tried to fight for them but when Ethan flew to Amazon, she felt that deep sadness again. Cass do not normally cry for men, but this is another ‘different’ for her. She still has strong feelings for him, but she decided to play hard to get.
Her mom didn’t raise her to cry and beg for men’s attention, she said. Eventually, she immediately gave in to her feelings. Ethan gave in to his feelings too, even though he said he wants to reset everything between them. After that maitotoxin incident, they both realized to just live and love life. She told her family about him, being ‘the One’ for her. She changed his mind about marriage and having children. Ethan also thought that she’s the one for him. When Ethan finally gave in to his feelings, Cass thanked all the Gods that she knows.
Cass is right when she said those words. Ethan and Cass got married 8 months after she finished her residency. Both of their families were happy for them. They decided to have a child a year after their marriage. They traveled a lot. They moved to a bigger house once they decided to have a child. Their married life was everything Cass and Ethan dreamed of.
A/N: You have reached the end! Thanks for reading all about my MC, Cass. I am really inspired when I wrote this. School starts in September, so I plenty of time to write this! Thank you, with all of my heart 💙❤
A/N: I've been thinking about writing this missing scene from 1x4 for years now because I often wondered what was happening after the rescue mission and before the diagnosis. But I never quite knew what to do with it... until now.
“Here you go. He’s all clean and sanitized, ready to be part of your family’s lore.”
“Thank you, Dr. Valentine.”
Dolores Hudson smiled gratefully at the young doctor, gently hugging the adorable stuffed frog she’d fallen in love with at first sight. She just knew her little tadpole would love it just as much.
“It was my pleasure, Dolores. And please, call me Cassie.”
“I hope Ethan didn’t give you a hard time about this,” Dolores said, slightly worried now that she was thinking more clearly about having imposed on the two doctors.
“Not at all,” Cassie assured her, hand-waving away her concerns. “He was great. I couldn’t have rescued this little guy without Dr. Ramsey’s help.”
Dolores brushed her hands down the soft fur of the plushie, a half-smile turning up the corner of her lips.
“I’m not surprised,” she breathed against the fur, her voice whisper-soft, bemused by the contradictions inherent in one of her oldest friends.
But Cassie’s curious expression and stillness told her the words hadn’t been quiet enough, or else her doctor had excellent hearing.
“I’ll come to check in on you once your labs are back.”
Dolores nodded goodbye, staring at the space long after the door closed behind Cassie, her eyes narrowing thoughtfully at everything she had observed this evening..
A short while later, she was lying on her back, one hand cradling her belly, the other holding the stuffed frog against her chest.
“Knock, knock,” Ethan said, breezing into her room and dragging the visitor’s chair next to her hospital bed.
“Who’s there?” Dolores teased as he sprawled on the chair, stretching his long legs.
“Doctor.”
“Doctor Who?” she said, egging him on.
“Ramsey,” he smirked.
Dolores stared at him, and then she groaned. “That’s not how the joke goes. As a Doctor Who fan, I’m offended.”
Ethan’s mouth twitched. “You asked who the doctor was. And I am one.”
“You’re such an ass,” Dolores pouted.
“I know,” he said, unrepentant.
His eyes fell on the stuffed frog, and his expression softened. “I see Valentine dropped him off, none the worse for wear.”
“Yes, she did,” Dolores said, smiling gently to show her gratitude.
She knew Ethan well enough to know he wouldn’t want the words that made what he did seem like a big deal. He would’ve seen the task as his duty as a doctor first, friend second.
“She’s lovely, by the way,” she commented when the silence stretched.
He didn’t say anything beyond an inarticulate hmm.
Unbothered, Dolores continued. “Friendly, compassionate. She reminded me of you as an intern, but without the arrogance.”
Ethan quirked one brow.
“Your expression when she called you handsome?” She laughed, remembering the earlier exchange. “I wish I’d had the presence of mind to take a picture so I could tease you with it later.”
“You’re teasing me without it just fine now,” Ethan shot back testily but not really annoyed.
Dolores knew when he was seriously miffed. It was all in the clipped tone of his voice and the glacial look in his blue eyes.
“Well, I know that she finds you cute, has seen your mean side, and thinks you’re a bit of a recluse without any friends. And yet, she clearly isn’t intimidated by any of it judging by how she voluntold you into a rescue mission.”
“Handsome.”
“What?” she asked with a perplexed look.
“She asked if I’d always been handsome. Not cute,” Ethan corrected.
Dolores hid a smile, but Ethan had always been too observant for most people’s peace of mind.
He sighed. “I’m just being accurate.”
She inwardly rolled her eyes and thought, Sure, Jan.
Seeing his discomfort, and because she was a good friend, she decided to change the subject.
“Did you get in touch with my sisters?”
“Yeah. I spoke to Alma. She’s going to try to fly down tomorrow or the day after. She needs to make arrangements to be away from work.”
“Thanks, Ethan. I know my sisters worry about me doing this”—she nodded toward her belly—“alone, but I’m okay. And so is my tadpole.”
Ethan thought back to the preliminary exam and the elevated blood pressure—the one detail in her admission chart that had given him pause.
“The lab should be back shortly with your results. We can discuss more then,” he said, tamping down his worry at what he suspected they’d find.
Dolores must have sensed something amiss as she continued to stare at him. But she didn’t push, and he was grateful.
“Do you have patients or can you stay a while?” she asked, a bit anxious now.
Ethan checked his wristwatch, mentally reviewed the work waiting for him, and made a quick decision.
“I’ve got time.”
Dolores’s relieved sigh told him it was the right answer.
“Grab the remote, will you?” she said, adjusting her position. “I’m in the mood for fun.”
Ethan powered up the TV on the wall and pulled up the channel guide.
“Lucky for us, Edenbrook’s channel selections include reruns of every show imaginable, whether we want to watch them or not.”
Dolores grinned. “See if you can find a Doctor Who marathon.”
“Still determined to make a believer out of me?” Ethan said.
“We’re called Whovians,” Dolores retorted. “Being a believer is something an X-Files fan would care about.”
Ethan glanced at her. “We’re called X-Philes, Dolores. With a p-h. Now I’m the one offended.”
Dolores laughed out loud, and soon Ethan joined her.
“You’re impossible.”
“So, I’ve been told,” Ethan remarked easily.
“Now, that’s something I can believe,” Dolores said, shaking her head in amusement.
Ethan simply winked, the grin on his lips reminding her that beneath the reputation, the intellect, and the intimidating glare was a lovable scoundrel who got away with far more than he should.
The man was a walking contradiction. Nothing would ever convince her otherwise.
Premise: Ethan and Cassie have one job when it comes to their children.
Fandom: Open Heart
Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Cassie Valentine); feat. Eloise Ramsey (F!OC)
Rating/Category: Teen. Fluff.
Words: 1,095
Ethan Ramsey had a reputation. Doctors who’d trained under him spoke of withering under his fierce stare during morning rounds. Peers in the medical community knew better than to question his diagnostic judgment. It was second to none.
All these years later, people still spoke of how he’d metaphorically torn apart the keynote speech of the president of the AMA while the man was still presenting it on stage. There were only a handful of people who could challenge him and come out the winner on the other side.
He was demanding, impatient, and right much too often to be humbled.
His twin daughters didn’t care about any of that. Their father was simply Dad. Serious, strict on occasion, but also the source of the best advice—someone who never used work as an excuse to miss sports meets or dance recitals.
Of course, they wished he didn’t have such a strong radar for when they were trying to sneak out or planning to get into trouble with their friends.
It hadn’t been so bad when they were younger. But ever since she and Sophie started dating boys, their father had turned into the ogre their mother often teased him about being when she’d first met him.
Alas, if parents were perfect, there wouldn’t be so many self-help books on parenting or pseudo-psychologists peddling useless advice on social media.
At least, that’s what sixteen-year-old Eloise Ramsey believed.
She stared at her reflection in the mirror, turning her head one way, then the other. Her hoop earrings (a present from her mom) shimmered as they caught the rays of the summer sun streaming through her bedroom window.
Wanting a second opinion on her outfit for her date with Jeremy, she took a quick selfie and texted it to her sister, keeping her fingers crossed that she’d gotten the time difference right.
Sophie was spending the next few weeks in London, attending the Royal Ballet School’s summer intensive program.
El missed her twin desperately. The other side of her bedroom was too quiet; no late-night tapping on the wall, no sneaking into each other’s beds to gossip when they couldn’t sleep.
Her phone pinged, and she snatched it off the dresser, smiling at Sophie’s fire emoji response to her photo.
She started texting back and forth with her sister, forgetting the time—and that she’d planned to save Jeremy from the patented Ramsey interrogation by meeting him outside.
The ringing of the front doorbell a few minutes later—not once, but twice in quick succession—had Ethan cursing as he lost his train of thought. Determined to ignore the interruption and let the housekeeper answer the door, he turned his attention back to the monitor.
He suddenly remembered the housekeeper was out running errands just as the bell chimed again.
Muttering about the inconvenience of unexpected visitors, Ethan marched out of his office. He swung the front door open impatiently, startling the teenage boy with short, curly hair, a gold chain, and battered sneakers standing outside, one hand poised over the buzzer.
“Yes?” Ethan demanded, folding his arms as he blocked the entrance.
“Uh… hi… Hi, Dr. Ramsey,” the boy stammered. “It’s Jeremy. Remember? El’s boyfriend.”
Ethan’s eyes narrowed into blue steel. “I’m not senile, Jeremy. What are you doing here?”
Ethan opened his mouth to get the boy to hurry along so he could get back to work. But Jeremy wasn’t paying attention. He looked over Ethan’s shoulder and seemed to relax.
“Umm, hi, Dr. Valentine.”
“Hey, Jeremy. Here to pick up El?” Cassie nudged Ethan aside and tugged Jeremy across the threshold.
Ethan heard the sound of running feet on the staircase and looked over his shoulder to see his daughter rushing toward them.
“Jeremy, I’m so sorry! I didn’t hear the doorbell.”
“He only rang it three times,” Ethan muttered churlishly, only for Cassie to pinch him.
“Oh, that’s alright. You look really pretty.”
Ethan scanned her outfit; black shorts and a white sleeveless top that showed too much skin, in his opinion.
“Where are the rest of your clothes, El?”
She rolled her eyes, looking far too much like her mother for his peace of mind. “Dad, it’s ninety degrees outside. People are wearing much less than this.”
Ethan started to argue, but Cassie pinched him again—hard.
“Oww.” He glared at his wife.
“Jeremy, let’s go,” El said, grabbing his hand and pulling him toward the door.
“Jeremy, wait,” Ethan ordered, blocking their path. “I want her home before curfew. No drinking, no drugs, and you keep your hands in your pockets—at all times.”
He ignored both his wife’s and daughter’s loud grumblings. “And just remember, I’ll be tracking her phone all night. So if you take a detour I don’t like, just know that the chief of police owes me a favor or two.”
“Dad!” El groaned. “Now you’re just embarrassing me. Come on, Jeremy. We’re going to be late for the movie.”
“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” Cassie called out cheerfully. “I’ll make sure your dad is suitably occupied and too busy to spy on you. He won’t be thinking of anything but me.”
Ethan caught the unmistakable innuendo in her tone and grinned when El caught it too.
Their daughter covered her ears with both hands. “Ugh. Why are you both so determined to embarrass me?”
Deciding he wasn’t done messing with El, he hooked an arm around Cassie’s waist and hauled her against him.
“Well,” he murmured, blue eyes glinting with mischief as he looked down at his wife. “Far be it from me to ignore such a compelling suggestion.”
Cassie’s laugh barely had time to escape before he kissed her, loving how readily she matched his passion.
“Oh my God!” El shrieked. “I hate this family.”
Jeremy, poor kid, looked like he desperately wanted the ground to swallow him whole.
Cassie pulled back, grinning. “That’s not what you said when I took you shopping last weekend.”
“We’re leaving,” El announced, grabbing Jeremy’s hand with far more force than necessary.
Ethan smirked as the front door slammed behind them.
Cassie tipped her head back to look at him. “Just remember, babe, if you traumatize her too much, she’ll return the favor when we’re old.”
Ethan considered this. “A horrifying thought. But I’m stronger than that.”
Cassie rose onto her toes and pressed a kiss to the side of his neck. “Prove it.”
Ethan’s hand slid to the small of her back as he guided her toward the stairs. “Gladly.”
Premise: Cassie doesn’t let anyone get away with insulting Ethan.
Fandom: Open Heart
Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Cassie Valentine)
Rating/Category: Teen. Fluff.
Words: 760
A/N: I found an old ask in my Inbox that I thought I had already replied to. But clearly, I was mistaken. Not sure if that anon is still around, but this one is for you.
“…if the two of you have time to gossip about your attendings, then clearly I need to review your patient caseload and your place in our residency program.”
“We were just—” a defiant voice spoke up.
“I don’t want to hear it.” Cassie Valentine’s sharp command cut off any supposed excuses. “Edenbrook accepts only the best, and I have to wonder if you’re it. Who’s your senior resident?”
Ethan Ramsey grinned as one of them murmured something. He was too far away to hear the name, seeing as he was lurking outside a patient room he’d watched Cassie stalk into, fire lit in her green eyes.
Ears perked, he heard her admonish the interns, grinning at how inventive she was with their punishments and thanking his lucky stars he wasn’t on the other end of that conversation.
He heard the sound of rushing feet and moved away, not wanting them to catch him eavesdropping.
Amused and curious, he slipped into the open doorway and tentatively stepped inside.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you lose control like that,” Ethan said, watching her with a considering look.
“Well, they were shit-talking you in the hallway, calling you an asshole, and weren’t even sorry about it when I caught them,” Cassie said, shrugging as if being so uncharacteristically her was of no concern to her.
Ethan smiled tenderly. “They aren’t the first to do so, nor will they be the last. I tend to have that effect on people.”
“Well, I’m the only one allowed to call you that, babe. At Edenbrook anyway. Call it special privileges.”
“When have you ever called me an asshole?” he asked, bemused.
Cassie grinned. “When we first met and you called me an amateur, even though I was excellent.”
He rolled his eyes and muttered under his breath, “And so modest.”
She ignored him, clearly on a roll.
“Oh, and how about that time you assigned me a PITA in intern year and wouldn’t tell me why? You looked so smug saying ‘figure it out’ like it was obvious to anyone with a single working brain cell.”
“And it pushed you to think outside the box, didn’t it?”
“Oh, and we can’t forget the time we made out in Miami and then you put the brakes on—so cool and nonchalant when you rejected me.”
Ethan opened his mouth to protest, maybe even correct her entirely erroneous assumptions about him.
But she never gave him the chance.
“To be fair,” she continued, her eyes going distant with reflection, “it wasn’t the right time for us, and I was sexually frustrated when I said it. So it was more of a soft I want him, but he’s such an asshole kind of sentiment.”
He scoffed. “There was nothing cool or nonchalant about my behavior that night. I ached—literally—to have you.”
Cassie waved away his explanation.
“Of course, there was that little disagreement of ours in second year when I approached Gwyneth Monroe and you were butthurt that I didn’t ask your permission first. And you never even admitted I was right.”
Ethan thought she sounded far too eager to list all his shortcomings.
Folding his arms, he quirked a brow and stared down at her.
“Just how long have you been holding onto a list of my supposed transgressions?”
She scoffed. “There’s nothing supposed about them, Ethan. You were an asshole, but you were my asshole, so I forgave you.”
“It’s a good thing I learned the error of my ways then,” he said, grinning at her peeved expression.
She beamed, clearly pleased with his response.
“It’s becoming increasingly clear,” Ethan said dryly, “that I married a deeply vindictive woman.”
Cassie smiled brightly. “And don’t you forget it.”
He shook his head, fighting a smile. “Remind me never to cross you.”
“Bit late for that, babe. Or weren’t you paying attention just now?”
“Should I ask how long you typically hold a grudge?” Ethan asked, pinching the bridge of his nose.
Cassie looked offended by the question. “Why don’t you ask Sophie Macdonald? She stole my crayons in preschool, and I still haven’t forgiven her.”
He blinked, opened his mouth to say something—anything—but found himself speechless at how entirely reasonable she sounded about what could arguably be considered a wildly unreasonable reaction.
And then he started laughing because, really, this was the woman he’d fallen in love with.
Sweet on the outside. Friendly to all. Loyal to a fault, except when she’d been wronged.
Premise: A case during Cassie’s shift at the community clinic has her wondering about Ethan in high school.
Fandom: Open Heart
Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Cassie Valentine)
Rating/Category: Teen. Fluff.
Words: 1,125
A/N: I was trying to write this last week. I could see the scene in my head, but took me a while to get the words out. Timeline wise, I'm setting this in the months following canon when Cassie is an attending.
Edenbrook’s community clinic was always busy, but the latest flu season had pushed it past its limits. By mid-morning, the waiting room had long since run out of chairs, overflow patients lining the narrow hallway outside the curtained bays and exam rooms while the line at reception spilled out the door.
Cassie Valentine had lost count of how many patients she’d seen. Moving from one space to the next without pause, she shot a brief commiserating look at the other doctors.
Sienna Trinh barely glanced up from examining a wailing toddler, while Jackie Varma smirked and flicked her gaze toward the line before returning to her patient.
Cassie shook her head and turned toward the mobile workstation to pull up the next patient only to walk straight into a tall, immovable obstacle.
Ethan Ramsey didn’t even flinch.
Cassie, meanwhile, rubbed the sting in her nose. “Make some noise, babe.”
“Maybe pay attention next time. Doctor Valentine.”
“Some of us enjoy advance warning, like ‘hey’, something, anything before bodily collisions. Chief Ramsey.”
“Some of us watch where we’re going.”
A passing nurse laughed, only to sputter and cough when Ethan narrowed his laser-blue eyes at her.
“Sorry,” she muttered, rushing off before he could reprimand her.
“What are you doing down here?” Cassie asked.
“I heard we’re short staffed.”
“Missing patients?” she said, a knowing smile tugging at her lips.
Desperately, he wanted to say. He sighed instead. Sometimes, she was too damn perceptive for his peace of mind.
“Excuse me? Are you doctors?”
Cassie looked over at the interruption. An anxious-looking teenage boy stood a few feet away.
Behind him, she could see a girl about his age sitting on the bed in the curtained bay, her sneaker-shod foot just grazing the floor.
Cassie offered the boy a calm smile. “Yes, we are. How can I help?”
“We got sent over here an hour ago, but no one came back,” he said, swallowing loudly. “I think they forgot about us.”
“I’m so sorry about that,” Cassie murmured. “It’s been a busy morning. Let’s get you both checked out.”
She shot Ethan a look over her shoulder. “Want to lend me a hand?”
It took him only a second to realize she was talking to him, and he threw her a grateful look for not making him beg.
“See, my love,” the boy said to the girl in a crooning voice. “Help is here. Everything will be alright now, my beautiful Juliet.”
“You’re my own precious Lancelot,” the girlfriend gushed, reaching for his hand and holding their clasped hands against her chest.
Cassie almost snorted when Ethan muttered, “Oh, good lord,” under his breath.
Wiping the amusement from her face, she turned to “Lancelot.”
“Why don’t you tell me what happened while Dr. Ramsey examines your friend?”
She listened attentively as Peter—Lancelot, apparently—explained how two seventeen-year-olds from Somerville had skipped school to spend the day in the city, only for their plans to be derailed when Juliet (real name Emma) tripped on the stairs at the T station outside the hospital.
Meanwhile, Ethan conducted a physical examination while Cassie took down Emma’s medical history. It was an exercise in patience.
Peter looked moments away from tears at failing to protect his girlfriend. Emma, however, was lavish in her praise of his gallantry, tugging him toward her so suddenly that Ethan didn’t get out of the way in time and banged his knee against the bed rail.
“Moonbeam!”
“My Romeo!”
Cassie coughed to disguise her laugh at Ethan’s thunderous expression.
A short while later, after concluding it was a simple ankle sprain that didn’t require further escalation, Ethan secured a brace around Emma’s ankle while Cassie sent in a prescription for pain medication.
She waited until the high school sweethearts were out of sight before doubling over in laughter, the full-bodied sound echoing off the walls. Ethan shook his head in annoyance, rubbing his aching knee.
“Oh, my. That was hilarious,” she said, breathless, wiping at the tears clinging to her eyelashes. “Remember being that age?”
“I like to think I had more dignity than that.”
“So you never skipped school for a girl?”
Ethan scoffed, then arched one brow. “Did you?”
“Of course,” Cassie said. “Mike and I drove down to Queen Anne’s on the Eastern Shore. We went sailing, ate some blue crab, made out in the back seat of his car.”
“Why am I not surprised,” he said dryly.
“I was late for curfew though, and my parents weren’t pleased. I was grounded for a week. But so worth it,” she said, her voice soft with nostalgia.
She turned to study him, her green eyes thoughtful. “Now, I wonder. What was Ethan Ramsey like in high school?”
Cassie tapped her finger against her lips. “A loner? No, that’s not quite right. I’ve met Miranda, after all.” Her eyes narrowed. “I know you were on the debate team, like me, so you weren’t exactly invisible. Wait. You played varsity basketball, right? So… a jock?”
Ethan snorted. “Be serious.”
“Were you one of those terrifyingly disciplined students who treated a B-plus like a personal moral failure and ruined the curve for the rest of us?”
“Weren’t you on the Honor Roll at Sidwell three years running?” he retorted, folding his arms.
“Oh my God! I have it,” Cassie exclaimed, clapping her hands in excitement. “You were the sexy nerd all the girls wanted while you ignored them in favor of organic chemistry?”
“Organic chemistry was college,” Ethan said with an eye roll.
“I’m right, aren’t I?” she chuckled.
“I object to the term nerd.”
“I knew it! You were the Ben of your class.”
He stared at her in confusion. “Now you’ve lost me, Rookie. Who’s Ben?”
“Ben,” she repeated, as though that explained everything. “Nerdy, hyper-competitive, secretly hot.”
“That sounds suspiciously flattering.”
Cassie waved him off. “From Never Have I Ever. Anyway, that’s not the point.”
“How did we go from a pair of idiotic teenagers with a poor grasp of literary characters to fictional teenagers on a show I’ve never heard of?”
Cassie shrugged. “You know what I think?” She continued without waiting for him to respond. “If we’d met in high school, we would’ve totally competed over grades and hotly debated everything. You’d have been secretly obsessed with me, and I would’ve used my best pick-up lines to get your attention.”
“So, not that different from how our relationship played out when you were an intern,” he smirked.
“What can I say?” The corner of her mouth quirked up. “We’re inevitable, babe. Just accept it.”
“I recall a great deal of resistance on my part,” Ethan said, deadpan.
“And yet,” Cassie said with a smug wink, “here we are.”
A/N: I've replayed chapter 4 three times already; just can't seem to hit "end" as I want to try different options/get inspired to rewrite what's there. My Ethan's birthday is July 30. It began as a throwaway comment in a reblog game, and then became my headcanon.
Submission to @aprilchallenge2026 prompt "Clash"
Ethan Ramsey didn’t consider himself a vain person. But when a man turned thirty-six, he could be forgiven for not wanting to find the odd white hair threading through his dark hair. So when he did, he plucked it out without hesitation.
Standing in the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist, he peered at his reflection in the fogged-up mirror. He could use a haircut, and maybe he’d grow a beard one of these days, he mused, rubbing his palms over the scruffy stubble lining his jawline.
But that day was not today. He twisted his lips ruefully, casting one last glance in the mirror before reaching for the trimmer in the top drawer.
Half an hour later, he was groomed and dressed for work. The sun was just peeking through the clouds rolling across the bay when he padded into the kitchen.
Listening to the weather forecast on the TV, he added ingredients for his blueberry smoothie into the blender and reached for leftovers in the fridge to pack for lunch.
Car keys in hand, he was almost out the door when his phone pinged. Ethan didn’t need to be a clairvoyant to know it would be birthday greetings from his father—and he was right.
Instead of texting back—something he wasn’t a fan of on the best of days—he hit the redial button.
“Happy Birthday, son!” Alan Ramsey’s voice cheerfully boomed on the other end.
“Thanks, Dad. You never miss,” Ethan added softly, thinking how his father was always the first to wish him, no matter how many years had passed.
“What can I say? It’s a father’s prerogative.” Alan chuckled. “Tell me you have plans tonight to celebrate properly.”
And there it was. The disconnect between how they saw the world. How little Alan understood him at times.
Ethan didn’t celebrate his birthday. His father insisted on him doing so, even though he should have known better.
“I’ll probably be at work late. With Naveen’s resignation, the diagnostics team is short-staffed.”
“I understand, Ethan,” Alan said, not hiding the disappointment in his voice. “Try to do at least one thing for yourself today. Birthdays are special.”
Ethan hummed, pretending agreement, and said his goodbyes.
Five minutes later, he was on the road; his birthday already forgotten. The city was waking around him, but his mind was already on the patients waiting for him at Edenbrook.
It might be a special day, as far as his father was concerned, but Ethan knew it was going to be like all others. In other words, nothing to write home about.
Later that morning, Ethan exited a hospital room on the fifth floor. He felt good about how his patient’s labs were trending, and knew they were ready to go home.
“Have the lab do another CBC panel this afternoon,” he said to Sarah, the nurse accompanying him. Scanning his badge on the mobile workstation, he pulled up the patient file and placed the order. “If the numbers look good, we’ll discharge Mr. Monroe tomorrow.”
“Yes, Dr. Ramsey…” Sarah said, her voice trailing off when Harper Emery marched into view, making a beeline for Ethan.
“There you are. I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” she called out, nodding at Sarah, who took the hint and scurried off.
“Sarah and I weren’t finished,” Ethan complained, throwing Harper a sour look.
“I’m sure you can catch up later. I need to talk to you.”
“So, talk,” he challenged, crossing his arms.
Harper rolled her eyes. “In private.” She scanned the hallway, then saw a room without a patient name listed outside. “Let’s go in there.”
Keeping his irritation at bay—she was the boss now, after all, and not his lover—Ethan followed her inside. He took a step back as she moved closer, but the hospital bed was behind him, leaving him no space to retreat.
“Ethan, relax.” She grinned, noticing his discomfort. “I’m not trying to seduce you.” Her voice dropped and she cast a furtive glance at the open doorway. “Just don’t want us to be overheard. You know how gossip flows through this place.”
“And what do you think the gossip will be if anyone sees us standing so close?” he said, quirking his brow.
“Whatever. I don’t have time to argue with you. First, happy birthday! And don’t worry, that’s all you’re getting from me,” she added quickly when he groaned. “I remember your stance on birthdays.”
Ethan ignored the chiding tone. “What’s the second?”
“The board and I have been talking about the diagnostics team. With Naveen gone, there’s an open spot. Have you decided what you’re going to do with it?”
“No, but it’s only been a few days,” Ethan said, hating the fact that Naveen wouldn’t be around the table during team meetings. “There are a few external candidates that I think could work. But I haven’t reached out yet.”
“Good. We want to keep this internal, run a competition among this year’s intern cohort to find the next diagnostician,” Harper said, rushing through her plan before he could interrupt. “The top intern at the end of the year gets to be a junior fellow on the diagnostics team for the remainder of their residency.”
The idea was so ludicrous that it took Ethan a moment to realize she was serious. And then he exploded.
“This is preposterous, Harper! They’re not ready.”
“Not today, but they will be by next year.”
Ethan hated how Harper was looking at him. As if what he wanted—what he believed—didn’t matter. He’d often found it patronizing; today was no different.
“You’re wrong,” he said, speaking through gritted teeth. “Diagnostics isn’t child’s play. It takes years of skill and knowledge to do what we do.”
Ethan looked away, staring at the blinds as he tried to gather his thoughts. His eyes narrowed to blue steel at the glimpse of blonde hair on the other side.
Valentine!
But then it disappeared just as quickly, so she must have just been passing by.
“Maybe it’s time to test that theory, Ethan,” Harper said. “We’ll evaluate them daily, put checks in place to ensure fairness.”
When she placed her hand softly on his cheek, forcing him to look at her—the way she used to when she was determined to get her own way—he was tempted to push it away.
“Medicine isn’t a game, Harper,” Ethan retorted, not bothering to hide his annoyance. “Residency is already competitive. Add a competition on top of it, and soon you’ll have interns sabotaging each other. It’s the patients who’ll suffer.”
Harper sighed, dropping her hand. “I’m not asking you, Ethan. I’m telling you.”
“What else is new?” he grumbled. “I know this is your hospital now. Your call. But I’m warning you…” Ethan stared her down, his tone serious. “I’ll fight you every step of the way on this.”
“What else is new?” she smiled triumphantly, giving him a light kiss on the cheek before walking away.
The tenor of the kiss, like the rest of their conversation, confirmed that he’d made the right decision calling off their relationship when she became chief. They were too fundamentally different in how they viewed medicine.
Harper’s need for one-upmanship was ingrained from the moment she began her training to become a neurosurgeon.
Frustrated at one more thing he was helpless to control—Naveen’s illness being another—Ethan started to stomp off, only to come up short at the sight of Cassie Valentine leaning against the wall outside the patient room, seemingly reading a chart.
But Ethan suspected that was just a ruse.
“Were you eavesdropping?” He stood in the doorway, arms folded, and waited for her response.
“Dr. Ramsey, I—”
She at least had the presence of mind to look abashed at being caught. He could practically see her brain trying to come up with a reasonable explanation. But he wasn’t in the mood.
He held up a hand and closed his eyes, snapping them open a second later.
“On second thought, I don’t have time for this,” he said impatiently. “Let’s skip the feeble excuse and get on with our lives, shall we?”
He marched past her, practically brushing against her shoulder.
He had patients waiting and charts that required his attention. But he needed to escape these walls, even if it was just for half an hour, before he took his bad mood out on someone else.
As Ethan left the hospital and cut across the square toward Derry’s coffee shop, he recalled thinking the day would be like any other.
But it wasn’t. The competition would change everything. Not only was he going to have to lead the diagnostics team without Naveen’s guidance, now he’d have to babysit a group of interns determined to win.
Flexing his fingers, he felt a dull ache from when he’d punched the wall last week. He was closer to his breaking point than he’d realized.
No. Today, tomorrow and the days after would never be the same again.
Summary: At the Edenbrook vs Mass Kenmore softball game, the real game is played off the field. As Josie makes her move, Ethan falters, and Jackson starts to notice.
Rating: Teen
Word Count: 2.9k
A/N: So this is a super long chapter sorry not sorry lol but I got really carried away and believe it or not, this is the trimmed version lmao
Catch up on the series here
The smell of rivalry and cheap beer hangs heavy over the field, heat rising off the grass as staff from both hospitals crowd the sidelines. Clusters form quickly, Edenbrook here, Mass Kenmore there. The lines clearly drawn before anyone says them out loud.
It’s supposed to be a friendly softball game.
It doesn’t feel like one.
Tobias Carrick approaches with a grin that’s all teeth. Aurora trails behind him, rolling her eyes dramatically.
“Ramsey,” Tobias says. “You’re the last person I expected to see here.”
Ethan smirks. “Worried?”
“Thrilled, actually. Makes the win sweeter.”
Josie steps in. “Just don’t cry when we demolish you.”
“I like her.” Tobias laughs, purposefully looking at Ethan. “She’s got fire.”
Then Tobias’s gaze flicks past Ethan, and lands on Jackson over at the benches. A grin breaks immediately. “Montgomery!”
Jackson jogs up with his cap on backwards, sunglasses hooked into the collar of his T-shirt, one hand loosely gripping a beer bottle as he steps forward. “Carrick,” he laughs.
They clasp hands, Tobias pulling him in for a quick shoulder bump like it’s second nature.
“Should’ve known you’d be here,” Tobias says. “Wouldn’t be the same without you.”
“Someone has to keep it competitive,” Jackson shoots back. “Figured you’d struggle on your own.”
Tobias huffs a laugh. “Yeah, yeah. Just make sure you’ve got your card ready this time. I’m not chasing you for it again”
“Oh, we’re still doing that?”
“You lose,” Tobias says simply. “You buy the first round. Those are the rules.”
“Funny,” Jackson replies, “I remember that round being significantly more than the rest.”
“Because I wasn’t paying,” Tobias grins. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep it reasonable this time.”
Jackson huffs a laugh. “That’s what you said last year.”
“Yeah,” Tobias says easily. “And you survived.”
He claps Jackson once on the shoulder, easy and familiar, then steps back.
His gaze flicks briefly to Josie. Then, just as quickly, to Ethan. “Try not to make this boring,” he says.
And with that, he turns, already heading back toward his team like nothing about this was accidental.
Josie watches Tobias go, then glances back at Jackson. “I didn’t know you knew Carrick?”
Jackson huffs a quiet laugh. “Occupational hazard.”
She raises a brow. “That bad?”
“Nah, he’s fine,” Jackson says easily. “Just don’t let him talk you into buying. He doesn’t drink cheap.”
“Good to know.” Josie laughs.
He steps in behind her like it’s nothing, one arm sliding around her waist, the cold beer still loose in his other hand.
Ethan’s gaze drops to Jackson’s hand at her waist. Then back to her.
Josie doesn’t move. Doesn’t lean away but doesn’t lean into him either. Just holds there. Like she’s been caught in something she wasn’t supposed to.
“You ready to kick his ass?” Jackson murmurs against her ear.
She blinks, turning her head to look at him now.
Before she can answer, he leans in and presses a quick, easy kiss to the top of her head.
Josie huffs a quiet laugh and then her gaze lifts.
Ethan is already looking. And for a second, he doesn’t quite catch it in time. His jaw tightens, barely enough for anyone to notice. But she sees it.
There it is.
Her gaze holds on him, waiting for a reaction.
Nothing.
His expression settles. Gone almost immediately, his expression smoothing back into place. Like it didn’t matter.
Like she didn’t matter.
Fine.
She turns back to Jackson, and her eyes flick back to Ethan. Just for a second. Just long enough to make sure he’s still looking. Then she closes the space between them and kisses him. Hard.
Her hand slides into Jackson’s shirt, gripping tight, pulling him closer, holding him there longer than necessary. Making it unmistakable.
Jackson leans into it automatically, hand tightening at her waist.
Josie pulls back slowly. And then she looks right at Ethan with a smile.
He saw it coming, the way she turned, the way she held his gaze just a fraction too long. That look in her eye.
He knew.
Something sharp pulls tight across his chest, quick and uncontrollable, gone before it can settle. Because he knows, not just what she’s doing but who it’s for. He gave her nothing. So she made sure he felt it. The consequences of his own actions land exactly where he left her.
His grip tightens around the bottle in his hand and exhales slowly. His expression smooths and he doesn’t look at her again. Doesn’t give her that.
He turns and walks before it settles into something he can’t contain.
But the image stays. Her hand in Jackson’s shirt. The way she looked at him, and made sure he saw. Made sure he knew that was for him.
He exhales slowly and refuses to look back.
But it follows him anyway.
She follows the line of his shoulders, the way he doesn’t look back, until he disappears into the noise of the field.
Jackson pulls back slowly and his gaze follows hers, landing on Ethan. And for a second he doesn’t look away. He shifts beside her, his arm still around her waist, pulling her in again like nothing’s changed.
But her gaze stays where Ethan was, even after he’s gone.
Jackson is saying something, smiling down at her.
“What?” she says, a fraction late.
“Where’d you go?” He laughs. “I said you’re going to regret volunteering.”
“Mm,” she hums, like she heard him the first time.
Her hand shifts, still resting against his chest. Focusing on the steady rise and fall of his breathing under her palm.
She presses her fingers slightly into the fabric, warm from the sun. Reminding herself he’s there.
Then relaxes her hand and her smile comes back, just a touch too practiced.
“Yeah,” she says lightly.
Jackson grins, pulling her closer again, already looking past her toward the field. And Josie lets herself settle into him, this time without hesitation.
Because it’s simple. Because it makes sense. Because it doesn’t ask anything of her.
And that’s the problem.
Naveen’s voice crackled through the megaphone minutes later.
“Alright, everyone! Standard rules, standard protocols. This is a friendly game. We’re here to have fun.”
Fun.
Yeah right.
Cheers erupted as the first pitch was thrown.
Josie stepped into position, eyes drifting across the field until they found Ethan.
He stood with his arms crossed, expression unreadable, posture stiff like he’d rather be anywhere else.
At least he’s having fun.
The game escalated quickly.
Every bat swung harder. Every out was argued. Every near miss was met with jeers from both sides. It was never about the softball.
By halftime, the air was charged.
Josie wandered near the cooler, grabbing a bottle of water as she looked over at Jackson across the field, halfway through a conversation with Bryce near the dugout, attention pulled elsewhere.
“Keeping your head in the game, huh?” Tobias drawled, appearing at her side.
She didn’t look at him. “Can’t risk getting too cocky. I won’t make that mistake with you again.”
“Which leaves plenty of other mistakes you could make with me.” He smirked, saying it lightly, but loud enough. Tobias’ gaze flicks to Jackson, then back to her. “Unless you’re playing it safe now.”
Josie scoffs and takes a sip of her water.
“By the way,” Tobias continued casually, “hope there’s no hard feelings about Stephanie choosing to continue her research with us.”
“Of course there are hard feelings,” she said flatly. “You stole my patient.”
“You should’ve tried harder to keep her, Kingsley. Patients are fair game. Yours and mine.”
“Patient care isn’t a game.”
“Of course not.” He smiled. “Everything we do is life-and-death stakes. Now it’s the same for the hospitals. Doesn’t mean we can’t have some fun doing it.”
“You better be treating Stephanie right.”
“Absolutely,” he replied smoothly. “I always treat a woman right.
Josie scoffed again, getting more irritated by the second.
“The second Aurora told me about her, and your research grant idea,” he continued. “I had to meet her.”
Josie’s head snapped toward the bleachers. She spotted Aurora near Jackie and strode over, anger flashing hot and immediate. “Aurora!”
Aurora blinked. “What?”
“Whoa, Josie,” Jackie muttered. “Cool off.”
“So you’re the one who told Carrick about Stephanie Hill?” Josie demanded, stepping into her space.
“It’s not what you think.”
“Then what?”
“I pitched him on going after research grants for patients,” Aurora said quickly. “I didn’t think he’d take yours.”
“You’re not stupid, Aurora. You knew what Carrick would do.”
“I didn’t.”
A Mass Kenmore doctor marched over. “What’s going on here?”
Josie became dimly aware of how many eyes were on them, and really she should’ve backed down.
She didn’t.
“Nothing much,” she said loudly. “Just Mass Kenmore being full of cheats as usual.”
The doctor stepped closer. “What did you just say?”
“Oh, did you not hear me?” she replies, voice calm but cutting, “I said hospital is full of cheats.”
The doctor scoffs. “You’ve got a lot to say for someone on the wrong side of this field.”
Josie lets out a short laugh. “Wrong side? Please, the only thing wrong here is your damn hospital.”
“And what’s that supposed to mean?”
She tilts her head slightly. “It means if you spent half as much time practicing medicine as you do cutting corners, you might’ve actually earned the right to call yourselves doctors.”
Silence tightened across the field.
Ethan felt it immediately. He knows that tone. Knows exactly what comes after it.
And for a second he considers letting it play out.
Josie doesn’t need help.
She never does.
If anything, she’s the one people usually need saving from.
But he’s seen for himself what happens when she decides to push. The way she leans in instead of backing down. The way she smiles right before she says something she shouldn’t. The way she keeps going, long past the point where anyone else would stop.
Ethan exhales slowly. Not annoyed, not even surprised. Just aware.
Because she’s not the problem. But whatever this turns into will be the problem. And he’s the one who’ll have to deal with it.
Others edged nearer to the commotion, egging it on.
“If we were on the field right now—” the Mass Kenmore Doctor began.
“Step away from my resident, Terrance.” Ethan’s voice cut through the crowd as he steps up beside Josie.
The Mass Kenmore doctor scoffed. “Or what, Ramsey? I’m not some pharma exec you can slug in the face.”
Tobias sauntered up. “Yeah, Ethan. Let’s not throw around threats we both know you won’t follow through on.” He smirks. “It’s getting old.”
Ethan doesn’t look at either of them, his attention is on Josie. “We’re done here,” he says.
Josie lets out a short, incredulous laugh. “Oh, are we?”
Tobias huffs a quiet laugh, eyes flicking briefly to Josie, then back to Ethan. “You really can’t help yourself with that one, can you, Ethan?”
She steps forward, chin lifting defiantly. “Don’t make this about—”
Ethan moves before she can finish. Because he knows exactly what she’s about to say, and exactly what it turns into the second it’s said out loud. He steps straight into her line of sight, cutting her off mid-word, close enough that she has no choice but to look at him instead. “Josie.”
She opens her mouth, ready to push back then she sees the warning in his eyes. And it all hits at once. What she was about to say, and how easily it would have sounded like confirmation of whatever existed between her and Ethan.
“Fine,” she mutters, jaw still tight with irritation.
But she steps back.
The whistle shrieked, splitting the tension as Naveen barked for everyone to get back to their positions. The crowd slowly dispersed, muttering.
They step back a few paces, the noise of the field swallowing the moment behind them.
“Carrick’s an ass,” Josie mutters.
“I know.” Ethan glances at her. “He knew exactly what he was doing.”
She lets out a short breath. “Yeah, well, he doesn’t get to—” She cuts herself off with an irritated sigh. “He doesn’t get to do that.”
Ethan’s gaze lingers on her a fraction longer. “No. He doesn't.” he says quietly. “You alright?”
“Yeah,” Josie shrugs, like it’s nothing. “Not the first time I’ve squared up to a grown man.”
“Now that I believe.” He looks at her then, really looks. And despite himself, the corner of his mouth pulls, like he can see exactly how that would’ve gone. The sharpness of her temper. The way she’d hold her ground. The fact that she wouldn’t back down, not even a little.
Of course she wouldn’t.
She never did.
“What happened?” Jackson jogs up beside her, breath still a little uneven, eyes immediately on her.
His hand finds her arm without thinking, turning her slightly toward him. “You good?” he asks, scanning her face, checking for anything she’s not saying.
Josie nods. “Yeah. Just halftime entertainment.”
“Uh huh,” he says, unconvinced, thumb brushing once against her arm. “And I suppose you just happened to be standing there minding your own business when it started?”
Josie gives him a look. “I was.”
He raises a brow.
She scoffs. “They started it.”
“I’m sure they did,” he says, completely unfazed. “And I’m sure you finished it.”
Her gaze flicks involuntarily, past Jackson. “Yeah,” she says. “Something like that.”
Jackson’s gaze lingers another second, checking. “Alright,” he says, lighter now. “Try not to start a full-blown brawl, yeah?”
He catches her hand, lacing their fingers together as he tugs her back toward the field.
Ethan doesn’t move. His gaze lingers a fraction too long on her, on their hands, before he turns away.
And just like that, whatever friendly rivalry had existed in the game before was gone.
Now it wasn’t just about softball.
Now it was personal.
And everyone knew it.
Mass Kenmore pushed.
Edenbrook pushed back.
And by the last stretch, the score was tied.
Josie stepped up to bat, rolling her shoulders once as she settled her grip.
The pitch came fast and she swung.
The ball soared high, and she was already moving. Clearing the first base, then the second. The noise hit all at once, the crowd rising, voices blurring into something sharp and electric.
She pushed harder. Toward the third base, then saw him.
Landry.
Before she really thinks about it, she drives forward. Full force straight into him. The breath knocked clean out of both of them as they hit the ground hard.
And the field explodes with shouting and chaos.
Laughter bubbles up in her, sharp and breathless, as Josie hits the ground. For a second, she just lies there, staring up at the sky, grinning like she’s just won something far more important than a game.
Ethan is already moving. The impact barely registers before he’s crossing the field, closing the distance in long, fast strides as the noise around him drops out.
She hit hard. Too hard.
He doesn’t slow.
He drops beside her, one knee hitting the grass, his hand coming up without hesitation, steadying her face and turning her toward him.
“Josie.”
Her eyes snap to his and he holds her there for a second. Watching her, making sure it sticks.
She’s already smiling. “I’m fine,” she laughs.
He exhales tight, something uncoiling just enough. “You hit your head.”
She huffs a laugh. “Yeah—”
“Don’t do that.”
Jackson is there a moment later, dropping to his knees on the other side of her. “Hey Jos, look at me.” His hand steadies her shoulder, eyes scanning.
Ethan doesn’t move. His hand is still at her jaw, thumb resting lightly against her skin as he watches her. And her eyes don’t leave his.
“She’s okay,” Ethan says, certain.
Jackson pauses and his eyes drop, just for a second, to Ethan’s hand at her face. Then back to her. Something tight flickers across his expression before it’s gone and his hand shifts at her shoulder, firmer now. He leans in slightly, closing the space.
“Josie,” Jackson tries again, closer now.
She doesn’t even turn, like she hasn’t quite registered he’s there.
Ethan feels it. That stillness, her focus entirely on him. He exhales quietly, and only then does his hand deliberately fall away.
The break is small, but she feels it. Her gaze flickers to find Jackson like the world is snapping back into place. “I’m fine.”
“Any dizziness? Blurred vision?” Jackson asks, already moving into it.
“Jackson, I’m not concussed.”
“Did you lose consciousness?” Jackson continues to press.
She huffs a laugh. “No. That was a very conscious decision to run that rat over.”
He doesn’t smile, his thumb shifts slightly at her jaw, checking her focus, her responsiveness. “You took a hit to the head,” he says, voice even. “Stay still.”
Ethan doesn’t move immediately. He watches it happen. Watches the way she answers him now. The way she lets him take over, steady and methodically.
There’s nothing left for him to do. Not that there ever was, he knew than and still went to her anyway.
His jaw tightens once, brief and controlled, before it disappears and he pushes himself to his feet.
He doesn’t look at Jackson, doesn’t look back at her. Because he already knows what he’ll see.
The noise of the field rushes back in as he steps away, voices bleeding into one another, the moment dissolving into something ordinary again.
By the time he reaches the edge of the field, his expression has already reset. Like he hadn’t crossed that line without thinking. Like he hadn’t been the first one there.
He doesn’t look back. Because if he does, he won’t leave. So he doesn’t give himself the chance. He just keeps walking.
Jackson’s gaze lifts, following him without meaning to. Like he’s checking something he can’t quite name.
Josie beams up at Jackson. “Did you see it?”
“Yeah,” Jackson says quietly, looking back to her. “I saw.”
Behind them, the noise swells with arguing about forfeit.
Game over.
Josie’s grin widens, eyes bright. “Worth it.”
Jackson exhales sharp through his nose, shaking his head like he’s trying very hard not to react to that. “Yeah,” he mutters. “We’ll revisit that after I rule out a concussion.”
She laughs again, immediately wincing and her hand shoots to her head. “Ow— still worth it,” she smiles.
Now, finally, his mouth twitches. “Of course it is,” he says under his breath.
He helps her up slowly, one hand steady at her back, not letting go too soon. Then walks her off the field.
“I’m okay, really.”
“Sure,” he replies, not even pretending to believe her. He nudges her down onto the bench. “Sit.”
She drops onto it with a small huff.
Jackson crouches in front of her, close enough that she can’t dodge him even if she wanted to. He grabs a cold beer from the cooler and presses it gently to the bruise already forming at her temple.
She winces. “Cold—”
“I know,” he says, softer now, adjusting his grip so it’s not quite as sharp. “Give it a second.”
He keeps the bottle in place, fingers steady, eyes still on her. Not rushed now, but just watching. Making sure.
“That was clean, right?”
“Oh, yeah,” he says, mouth twitching. “Pretty sure you left a dent.”
“I had him.”
“You absolutely did,” he agrees. “But maybe don’t use your head next time.”
She laughs, then winces. “Still worth it, though.”
“No,” he murmurs, his thumb shifting slightly where it steadies the bottle. “You don’t get to scare me like that and call it a win.”
He watches her another second, like he’s committing it to memory, checking she’s actually okay, and not just saying she is. Then satisfied, he eases back slightly, still pressing the makeshift ice pack to her head.
“You’re a liability,” he says, almost fondly.
“Winning liability,” she corrects.
He huffs a quiet laugh, shaking his head like he can’t quite believe her. “You know you forfeited the game, right?”
A/N: Thanks for much for reading if you finally made it to the end lmao. This is where we start having unhinged Josie, and she ain’t gonna stop now lol
I’ve just added my old taglist so if anyone wishes to be added/ removed please just let me know.
Premise: Ethan decides to make the most of a quiet morning. Cassie learns it didn’t go quite as planned.
Fandom: Open Heart
Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Cassie Valentine)
Rating/Category: Teen. Fluff.
Words: 1.3K
A/N: This is for @dr-colossal-pita - I took your idea of Cassie watching Ethan with the girls, but it went on a detour🤭
Submission for @aprilchallenge2026 prompt "Wonder"
It was still early in the morning. A rare, fragile silence settled over the penthouse overlooking Boston’s waterfront.
Ethan Ramsey bit back a yawn as he absently glanced out the floor-to-ceiling windows.
Fog had rolled in from the bay overnight. A weak sun shone through, casting ships dotting the horizon into ghostly apparitions.
When Cassie had asked that they take a sabbatical to bond as a family, he’d been wary. Aside from the odd vacation, medical mission, or conference, he hadn’t been away from Edenbrook for longer than two months.
It was reaching just that now. And yet, he didn’t find himself missing the hospital. The work, yes, but not the place.
For one thing, their twin girls were more than a handful in personality. For another, there was no time to do anything but cater to their whims. He was busier than ever, and without access to bumbling interns he could berate to take the edge off.
All-nighters with the girls were more brutal than any double shift he’d worked as a resident. Their wake-up calls loud enough to compete with airplanes landing at Logan International Airport.
And relentless. Ethan didn’t think he’d gotten more than a few hours of sleep that first month.
But the girls’ sleep schedule seemed to be normalizing now. At least, they’d started doing five-to-six hour-stretches through the night. While that was a relief (literally and figuratively), it also meant planning the day with surgical precision to get everything done.
His wife had been partially right. Forget bonding. They needed the time off to figure out the mysteries of parenting.
“The driver is waiting downstairs.”
He turned away from the windows as Cassie stepped out of the walk-in closet.
The dress caught his eye first, the fabric flaring gently around her knees beneath the camel-colored coat. The color matched the green of her eyes. Her blonde hair was tied back in a sleek ponytail. Low-heeled pumps, a pearl necklace, and pearl-drop earrings completed the look.
Ethan found his mouth going dry at the sight of her. It had been a long couple of months since they'd enjoyed any sort of true intimacy.
The thought lingered longer than it should have, before he remembered that she had a few weeks of recovery ahead of her. He forced the lecherous thoughts out of his head and tried to speak in a neutral tone.
“It’s a pea soup outside,” he said, tilting his head towards the view outside.
She shrugged, adjusting the scarf around her neck. “It shouldn’t be too bad on the city streets. Besides, I won’t be long.”
He smirked. “You and I both know, brunch with your friends is never that quick.”
Cassie laughed, stepped up to press her lips against his, and then she was gone, leaving a faint, lingering trail of scent in the air behind her.
Finding himself alone again (and a little distracted by the scent), Ethan grabbed the baby monitor off the bedside table and stuffed it in his back pocket. He moved towards his office, determined to make use of the quiet while it lasted.
The sabbatical had given him an opportunity to catch up on research, which had further sparked an idea for his next book. Between feedings, diaper changes and sleepless nights, he’d managed to complete an outline he felt had possibilities.
A hour later, Ethan leaned back in his chair and took off his glasses. Rubbing his eyes, he reached for the mug, only to pull back when he realized the coffee had long gone cold.
He started for the kitchen to make a fresh pot when twin cries echoed from the baby monitor in his hand.
Quiet time was over. He sighed, and changed directions to head to the nursery.
Cassie let herself in the front door, her ears automatically tuning to the stillness in the air. She checked her wristwatch. The girls should be up by now, according to the sleep schedule she and Ethan had devised.
Curious, she peeked into the living room first. Nothing. Then the nursery and main bedroom next. Those were empty too.
She took the stairs to the second level and Ethan’s office. She knew he was planning to get work done this morning. Maybe he’d moved the girls there to keep an eye on them.
The office door was ajar but there was no sign of her family. A flicker of concern tightened her chest. Cassie reached for her phone to call Ethan.
Lately, they’d found that a drive around the block (or two) seemed to work when the girls were feeling particularly restless.
She heard the call connect and then two sets of ringing sounds reverberated in the air—one from the phone next to her ear and the other from somewhere close by.
Pulling the phone away, Cassie cocked her head. There.
She padded down the hall to the family room, gently pushing the door open. And paused at the sight.
Ethan was sprawled on the couch, one leg dangling to the floor, the other bent at the knee. His breathing was steady and even. The sound of the ringing phone was clearly not enough to wake him from his stupor.
She disconnected the call, the silence returning just as quickly as the fog dissipating outside.
Cassie traced his features. He hadn’t shaved today, and the stubble darkened the killer jawline the nurses at Edenbrook swooned over. The tousled dark hair flopped across his forehead. His features softened when he was asleep, a contrast to the intensity that was so inherent to his personality.
Lips partially open, his warm breath tickled the hair of the twins who lay sleeping atop him. His arms cradled them securely against his chest; hands spread flat against their small bodies, almost as if he’d fallen asleep patting them.
Her heart melted when one of the girls mewled, the other tensed, and Ethan’s hold tightened. Even in sleep, he knew exactly what they needed. His palms rubbed their backs, gently, up, then down, then up again.
No doubt feeling their father’s presence, the girls stilled. Their small heads rubbed against his shirt and settled into the crook on either side of his neck.
Sometimes Cassie couldn’t believe this was the same man who’d told her kids weren’t in the cards for him.
“I don't think I'd be able to be there for them, at least not the way they would need.”
He’d said those words to her when they tested the fMRI machine when she was still an intern—back when she’d been crushing on him, hard.
And then he’d said, “Besides, I've seen too many horror stories firsthand.”
His tone wistful, maybe a little sad. She remembered feeling a vague disquiet she couldn’t (or didn’t want to) name.
Later when she’d learned about his mother, she surmised the horror stories might have been more personal than simply anecdotes. That memory lingered, reshaped now by everything that had come after.
There was a time during their relationship when she wondered if their family would always be just the two of them. And they had been content, building their careers, traveling, living their lives. But then expectations changed.
First the realization that they both wanted more. Then, the grief from the miscarriage. And finally, the surprise pregnancy almost a year to the day since they’d agreed to start trying the first time.
Ethan was a wonderful father, as she’d known he would be. He might not always be comfortable in the role—his default mode was still hesitation—but she knew everything he’d been afraid of before was nothing in comparison to the love he already gave to their children.
Cassie wasn’t sure how long she stood leaning against the doorway watching her three favorite people, until her phone pinged with a text message.
She gently closed the door, leaving just a sliver open, and quietly made her way downstairs.
The silence followed her, now soft and full. Some moments were simply too precious to disturb.
Premise: Reggie had seen many things in his time at Donahue’s, but tonight was different.
Fandom: Open Heart
Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Cassie Valentine); feat. Reggie the bartender
Rating/Category: Teen. Fluff.
Words: 1,470
A/N: I'm really enjoying my re-read of OH 1, and thinking of new ways to tell this story.
Submission to @aprilchallenge2026 prompt "Kismet - Pull"
The jukebox was loaded. The glasses stacked. The bar wiped down. And additional help hired to manage the crowds. From the first day of residency at Boston’s Edenbrook Hospital to the city’s celebrations for the Fourth of July a few days later, it was going to be a double whammy of a week.
Of the two, it was the first that was of immediate concern. Interns fresh off their first shift tended to guzzle down two-for-one tequila shots like they were going out of style.
Reggie signed off on the inventory list his assistant manager handed him and reflected on how some things changed and yet others remained the same.
He had been manning the bar at Donahue’s for too long now to remember the exact number of years. Back when he’d started, old man Donahue was still running things at what had been a third-generation traditional Irish pub catering to the neighborhood and the hospital nearby.
Over the years, the neighborhood had changed as the West End gentrified. Government employees and corporate types working in the office buildings moved in, while the denizens that gave the area character moved out. The hospital was all that remained of the old days.
Reggie was too young to remember that time, but he’d heard his boss complain about the changes often enough that sometimes he felt he’d been there to witness it. Donahue hadn’t always been easy to work for, but he was fair and paid on time.
When he decided to retire and move to Ireland, he’d been happy to sell the bar to Reggie. Not long after, posters of Guinness and shamrocks found themselves keeping company with signed memorabilia from the occasional basketball player who stumbled in after a game at The Garden, and neon signs of various liquor brands.
He kept the name, the dark wood décor and red pleather booths. The jukebox full of classics. But everything else, from the drinks menu to the pool tables and darts in the back, reflected what his clientele expected.
Despite all the changes, Reggie’s most loyal customers were the people who worked at the hospital—from the crop of new residents who started on the first day of July like clockwork, to the attendings who stayed long after their training ended, to the nursing staff who fed him all the gossip.
He glanced at the large wall clock facing the bar and took one more look around his domain, nodding in satisfaction.
“It’s showtime, people,” he called out as the clock struck five.
The office workers rolled in first—cocktails, wine, the odd draft beer. Halfway through happy hour, the vibe changed as the day shift at the hospital ended. Scrubs and jeans replaced suits and skirts. And orders turned to beer pitchers and tequila shots.
Around quarter to seven, Ethan Ramsey strolled in and parked himself on his usual seat at the end of the bar. His timing was impeccable as always, thought Reggie with a grin—missing the rush of bodies that flooded the bar just after shift change, but arriving just in time to people-watch.
He was here most nights. Slowly sipping his scotch. Pretending indifference. But Reggie had seen the way Ethan’s gaze drifted across the bar, taking everything in.
Of course, Ethan would scoff at the notion. But bartenders (like a certain diagnostician) were trained observers. They saw all, heard all, and locked that knowledge away in a vault.
Even when he and Dr. Emery had been… whatever they were, Ethan would sit and enjoy his drink in silence. One drink, always—except when he’d been a young resident. Back then, his tastes had been discerning even if his wallet hadn’t been. So he often settled for a couple of Sam Adams.
“Looks like tonight’s a two-finger occasion,” Reggie grinned, reaching for the bottle he kept behind the bar.
“Might even be three fingers,” Ethan muttered, running one hand absently through his hair and sighing deeply. “But better make it two. I’ve got rounds in the morning.”
“Rough day?” Reggie asked, pouring the drink.
“Not particularly…,” Ethan said, uncharacteristically tapping his fingers on the bar. “Just a strange one.”
That’s new, thought Reggie. He couldn’t remember the other man looking so discombobulated—ever.
“Well, hopefully this helps,” he said, raising a finger in a be-there-with-you gesture when another patron stepped up to the bar. “Let me know if you need anything else.”
Reggie got busy as a group of surgeons—he could always recognize them—ordered a round of beers before commandeering the darts. He and his assistant worked quickly and efficiently, filling one order after another, including a large one of tequila shots someone had managed to slip in before the buzzer.
Things started to settle down shortly after that, and he sent the other bartender on a short break. Figuring he’d given his favorite customer enough time to brood, Reggie started to make his way to the other side of the bar.
He stopped short. An unfamiliar face (must be an intern) slid into the seat beside Ethan. Reggie grinned, all too familiar with how Ethan handled residents pestering him off the clock. And the aftermath—everything from tears to tight-lipped frustration—was entertaining, that was for sure.
So he moved closer, practically within earshot. Two seconds later, he almost dropped the glass he was wiping when he saw how Ethan was watching her from the corner of his eye.
“Something wrong, Dr. Ramsey?” the woman asked.
“Just noticing how… different you look out in the real world.”
Reggie’s eyes goggled at the tone (almost flirtatious) and the words. Who was this man, and would the real Ethan Ramsey please stand up?
Unable to help himself—and his curiosity—Reggie approached them.
“What’ll it be?” he asked the woman.
She eyed Ethan’s empty glass as if trying to guess what he drank. Then he saw recognition dawn in her green eyes.
“We’ll have two scotches, neat.”
Impressed, Reggie reached for a bottle of Ethan’s favored brand, setting two neat scotches in front of her.
More amused now by Ethan’s reaction than the woman’s actions, Reggie shamelessly eavesdropped on whatever was happening here.
She slid one glass over, and Ethan took it, smiling with approval as he sniffed it. “Why neat instead of on the rocks?”
“The ice changes the flavor,” she said.
“Right answer,” Ethan grinned rakishly, and Reggie understood why the nursing staff often gossiped about the young doctor.
That smile was lethal.
“You know I can’t be bribed into favoring you, right?” Ethan commented, raising one brow as if to discourage the resident.
“I think you already favor me,” the woman said, smiling, confident in her assertion.
Reggie expected Ethan to shoot her down, as he’d done with other residents over the years who thought flirting would get him to soften his stance toward them.
Instead, Ethan just smiled and shook his head. “You keep believing that.”
Reggie was dying of curiosity now, wondering who this woman was. Why was Ethan not behaving like himself?
He got his chance when Ethan downed the drink in one long gulp and signaled him.
“Two specials. Thanks, Reggie.”
“Only for you, Ethan,” Reggie said, inwardly grinning at the goldmine of gossip he was mining tonight.
He couldn’t wait for Naveen Banerji to drop in for their weekly tea, literal and figurative. The older doctor was Ethan’s mentor and loved nothing more than hearing how his mentee was doing, along with other hospital gossip.
Reggie kept one ear cocked as he turned away to mix the special cocktail he and Ethan had devised. Someone turned up the jukebox, so he missed part of the conversation. But what he did hear was scintillating.
“You don’t have anyone waiting at home?”
“I’ll come here even when I do. I need some buffer between the hospital and the world. An airlock,” Ethan said, his tone hesitant at first before turning serious. “Don’t take the job home with you, Valentine.”
Valentine. Now Reggie had a name to go with the face of the only woman who’d managed to chip through Ethan’s armor. He didn’t think even Harper Emery had managed to do that.
Feeling like a voyeur, he turned around with their freshly mixed drinks, determined to set them down and walk away. He noticed how close the two of them were standing now, as if inside a private bubble.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” she said, her eyes locked with his. “But you didn’t answer my question.”
“No,” Ethan hesitated, his voice dropping to a whisper as if in confession. “Nobody waiting at home tonight.”
For the first time tonight, Reggie felt that he was watching the start of something new—maybe even something special. And he wondered if his friend was ready for it.
Chapter Summary: While treating a patient who refuses urgency, Ethan and Josie are forced into stillness where personal history, buried tension, and unspoken truths surface and something between them shifts.
Rating: Teen
Word Count: 1.6k
A/N: Sorry this chapter took so long to finish. I’ve been ill recently I know absolutely shocking, we love being chronically ill lmao so I haven’t had chance to write. But I’m not dead, I’m loving this series too much lol
Catch up on the series here
The harbor glitters under the late-morning sun, obscene in its beauty. Bloom’s yacht gleams against the water, pristine and arrogant. On deck, Leland and Caroline Bloom laugh easily among guests dressed in effortless wealth. Linen, boat shoes, and champagne catching the light.
Ethan is all professionalism when he speaks to Bloom, already steering toward the ultrasound.
Bloom waves him off with a smile. “Relax, Doctor. Enjoy yourselves. I’ll see you when I’m finished.”
Ethan takes a step forward, irritation flashing hot and immediate. Josie’s hand closes around his arm. Not tight. Just enough. “We’re on a boat, Ethan,” she says quietly, close enough that only he hears. “He’s not going anywhere. Come on, make the most of it. You do know how to relax, don’t you?”
His gaze drops to where she’s touching him, like he hasn’t quite decided what to do with that yet. Then he looks back up at her. “I relax just fine.”
Ethan stares out at the calm ocean and Josie watches the tension drain from him in degrees as he takes a sip from his drink. The slight drop of his shoulders, the unclenching of his jaw, the loosening of his grip around the glass.
“Better?” she asks.
“Relatively,” he admits. “Yes.”
“You seem stressed.”
“I’m not.”
She turns her body toward him fully. “Ethan.”
He exhales, slow and sharp. “Maybe a little.”
She leans beside him, forearms resting on the railing, close enough that she feels the heat of him. “Is this still about me going behind your back with Gwyneth?”
“In a way.” He swallows. “It’s more… the overall impression you leave.”
Her brows knit. “Meaning?”
“You make it extremely difficult to stay focused,” he says, and the honesty of it surprises them both. “But it’s not just you. It’s the team. All of it”
He stares out at the water. “I told you how much that program meant to Naveen. He’s entrusted it to me.” His voice drops. “And now, I’ll be the one who ends it.”
“It won’t be your fault,” Josie says gently.
He shakes his head. “The times you’ve lost a patient, and it wasn’t your fault, did hearing that help?”
She doesn’t hesitate. “No.”
“Exactly.” He finally looks at her. “I was furious with you. But, in truth, I suppose I should thank you.”
“For what?”
“For sparing me the need to do it myself.”
She huffs a quiet laugh. “Well. You’re welcome, I guess.”
Something in his chest loosens. He closes his eyes briefly as the wind picks up, threading through his hair, carrying salt and sun and something dangerously close to peace.
After a moment, she speaks, “So. You going to tell me why you and Carrick were at each other’s throats?”
“I seem to remember you joining in.” He retorts, a daring smile tugging at his lips.
“Just reading the room.” She glances sideways at him. “How do you know him?”
“Hopkins,” he says. “Med school.”
“Ah. Besties.”
He opens one eye. “Would you like to rephrase that into something resembling English?”
“Best friends.” She grins. “Your companion, your dear confidant, your chamber-fellow”
“Ah, yes. That’s certainly what we called them,” he says. “In my era.”
Josie’s mouth curves, a quiet smile breaking through and she glances away, like she’ll let him have that one.
Because that shouldn’t have worked.
But it still does.
“We were close,” he continues. “Moved in together our second year.”
“And then?”
“We wanted the same things. Highest GPA. Best residency.” His jaw tightens. “Even the same woman.”
“Oh,” she says lightly.
And for a second something shifts. Because he wanted this woman enough to make it a competition. Enough to lose a friendship over it. Enough that it still sits between them.
And for a second, she can’t quite fight the thought off.
He still walked away from me.
Josie’s gaze lingers a moment too long then looks away.
“By the end,” he finishes, “we weren’t speaking.”
She nods once, “Right, then we make sure we’re right.”
“Carrick will go for the obvious. He always does” Ethan says. “Predictable, really,” he adds.
He glances at her. Waiting.
Normally she’d have something for that. A comment, a jab, something just off-centre.
“Well, it narrows his options,” Josie says instead.
Ethan’s brow tightens, just slightly. “You don’t think so?” he presses.
Josie looks up and meets his gaze. “No, I agree.”
Ethan studies her for a second longer, knowing he’s missed something. Then looks back to the ocean. “Right.”
Behind them, Bloom clears his throat, leaning on his cane. “My kidneys are ready for you now, doctors.”
Ethan straightens instantly, armor snapping back into place. He hoists the medical bag onto his shoulder and follows Bloom toward the cabin with Josie trailing behind him.
She watches him, always controlled and composed.
He doesn’t look back.
He never does.
Later, the observation deck above the Operating Room hums with restrained tension, the kind that settles into bone.
Ethan stands at the railing, hands spread flat against the metal, knuckles pale. His eyes are locked on the operating room below. Not on Leland Bloom, not on the transplant, not on the monitors, but on Jackson Montgomery.
The way Jackson moves with ease. He commands the room without forcing it. His voice is steady, measured, and confident. The surgical team responds instantly. No hesitation. No second-guessing. No challenge.
For a resident, it’s impressive.
Ethan retains every detail.
The way Jackson anticipates complications before they arise. The way he corrects an intern without humiliation. The way he adjusts when something goes slightly off-plan, he’s not rattled, not even defensive, just focused.
This is what authority is supposed to look like. Ethan tells himself that’s why he’s watching. Professional interest. But he knows that’s not the truth.
Jackson doesn’t need to grip control to hold it.
Ethan does.
And worse, Jackson isn’t even looking up. He isn’t checking the gallery. Isn’t seeking approval. Isn’t performing. He’s just doing the job.
A flicker of something ugly twists low in Ethan’s chest.
Beside him, Josie leans on the railing. Close enough that Ethan is acutely aware of her presence. The warmth of her arm through fabric, the subtle shift of her weight when she adjusts her stance.
She isn’t watching the surgery.
She’s watching him.
Not openly but through the glass. Through his reflection.
She sees the way Ethan’s jaw tightens every time Jackson speaks. The way his shoulders lock, like he’s bracing for impact. She sees the twitch in his fingers, the barely-there tension simmering beneath his stillness.
Josie’s gaze lingers in the reflection, tracing the outline of his face overlaid with the surgical lights below. He looks carved from restraint. Controlled to the point of fracture.
“Jackson’s good,” she says quietly.
“He is,” he says, his gaze remaining on the surgery. “Decisive. Controlled. Not particularly stubborn.”
Josie stills, just slightly.
He continues, almost absently, “minimal ego. For a surgeon, at least. And, as far as I can tell… not especially spoilt. So, no risk of immaturity.”
“Careful,” she says softly, fighting the smile tugging at her lips. “You’re starting to sound like you took that personally.”
“I don’t take inaccurate criticism personally.”
“Mm,” she murmurs. “I stand by it.”
Below them, Jackson calls for an instrument and it’s in his hand before the word fully lands.
Ethan’s breath tightens.
Unbidden, Tobias’ voice slides back into his mind.
That one… yours, is she?
Ethan’s fingers curl hard around the railing. It wasn’t the question. It was the certainty behind it. Tobias hadn’t asked to provoke him. He’d asked because he already knew. Because Ethan’s control, the thing he prides himself on, the thing he survives on, had cracked just enough to be visible.
Visible to Josie.
Visible to Tobias Carrick, of all people.
Josie speaks again, soft but sharp. “He bought those kidneys.”
“I know,” Ethan says, too fast.
“I’ve had patients die waiting,” she continues. “And he just—”
“I know,” he snaps.
She turns then, really turns, studying him instead of the reflection. Her eyes search his face, unafraid, unyielding.
“If you could,” she asks quietly, “would you?”
Ethan doesn’t look at her. “Depends,” he says.
“On what?”
He turns then to meet her eyes. “On whether I could live with what I’ve done.”
He holds her gaze a fraction too long.
Josie doesn’t look away. But something in her expression stills. The ease gone, and replaced with something quieter. Like she’s seeing the shape of something she hadn’t quite named before.
“And could you?” she asks softly, holding his gaze.
“No,” he says quietly. “I can’t.”
The words settle, not on the case.
On her.
And suddenly, it’s not hypothetical anymore.
She doesn’t look away. Something flickers across her expression, quick then gone almost as soon as it appears.
But she heard it and understood it more than she wanted to.
Her lips press together briefly. “Ethan—”
“I need to review his labs before they close.”
He turns for the door and doesn’t look back.
“That’s it, walk away,” she murmurs, almost to herself as she watches him go. “You’re good at that.”
His hand stills on the door, just for a second. Then he pushes it open and keeps walking.
The door swings shut behind him. And for a moment, Josie doesn’t move.
Below Jackson’s voice carries, steady and controlled. The surgical team moves in sync. Everything exactly as it should be.
Josie turns back to the glass. Tries to focus, but it doesn’t quite hold.
Her gaze shifts downward to Jackson. The way he moves. The way the room settles around him. The way nothing about him feels uncertain.
Safe.
Easy.
Her shoulders ease just slightly and she leans forward, resting her hands against the railing. Grounding herself in the rhythm of the surgery.
In him.
And this time, she doesn’t look back at the door.
I’ve just added my old taglist so if anyone wishes to be added/ removed please just let me know.
Premise: Ethan gets ready to lead morning rounds for the new intern class. Retelling of 1.3 from Ethan’s POV.
Fandom: Open Heart
Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Cassie Valentine)
Rating/Category: Teen. Fluff.
Words: 1,110
A/N: Submission to @aprilchallenge2026 prompt "clash"
Ethan Ramsey took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes, using the moment to rest his brain. A morning spent reading the copious amounts of emails hospital admin insisted on sending daily had that effect on him.
Shaking his head as if to clear it, he turned his attention to the patient charts of everyone they would round on today, quickly familiarizing himself with their conditions, latest lab results, and any notes from the night shift.
Satisfied that he was ready for morning rounds, he peeked at the clock in the corner of his computer screen, mentally calculating if he had time to grab a cup of coffee. Disappointed that he didn’t, he shut down his computer and grabbed his white coat off the back of his chair.
Ethan was adjusting the collar when someone knocked on his door. He turned to see one of the nursing staff standing in the half-open doorway.
“Good morning, Sarah,” he said, coming out from behind his desk.
“Morning, Dr. Ramsey,” she replied, pushing open the door to step inside. “Kyra Santana was admitted through the Emergency Department earlier.”
Ethan paused mid-step. Kyra had been a patient of his until her cancer diagnosis, at which point she’d been handed off to Oncology. Still, Ethan liked to keep an eye on her for old time’s sake.
“Okay, and?” he asked impatiently when Sarah didn’t continue.
“Dr. Carter did her intake, but he’s disappeared. We paged him, but it shows he’s off service. One of the nurses heard him talking about a 10 o’clock tee time.”
“Oh, for Christ’s sake!” Ethan muttered, resisting the urge to track Carter down and rip him a new one for ignoring the basic principles of patient care.
“Ms. Santana is waiting in room five-oh-three, but we don’t know what to do with her,” Sarah continued. “The HemOnc coordinator told us IM needs to evaluate her first.”
“Leave it with me,” Ethan told her, quickly reevaluating next steps as an idea came to him. “Take Carter off her chart in the system. I’ll assign one of the residents after morning rounds.”
“Thanks, Dr. Ramsey,” Sarah said, relief showing on her face. “I’ll let Ms. Santana know.”
“Thanks, Sarah. If Carter causes any issues later, just send him my way,” he added, secretly relishing the opportunity to bring the new attending down a peg.
The man had been a resident just a few days ago and had clearly forgotten his job already.
That taken care of, Ethan closed the office door behind him and headed toward the nurses’ station on the other side of the floor. His mind had already shifted to the next item on his to-do list: morning rounds.
It was mean of him, but he was looking forward to putting this intern class through its paces. Rounds were where one evaluated which residents had what it took to go the distance—and which ones would wash out before the end of intern year or shortly after.
He remembered his own rounds with fondness and exasperation. The praise when he got it right, the resentment from jealous co-residents when he made it look easy.
Medicine was a competitive field, Ethan thought. A boxing match, in many ways, giving each fighter an equal chance to step up and stand tall in the end. Or let their opponent ride roughshod over them because they had a better strategy or knew how to make the most of their medical knowledge and skills.
In internal medicine, it was all about the latter—strategy and execution—but more importantly, as far as Ethan was concerned, the ability to connect with patients. The winner of morning rounds would get to treat Kyra Santana.
He reached the meeting point five minutes before Delarosa arrived. She greeted him pleasantly, and he nodded absently, wondering how anyone could be that cheerful every single day.
In her two years at Edenbrook, he didn’t think he’d ever seen her lose her sunny attitude once.
He leaned against the nurses’ station, crossing his arms as the interns, medical students, and second-year residents on his service gathered around. His eyes scanned everyone until he unwittingly found Valentine.
Ethan wasn’t sure why he searched for her, except that she’d made an impression on him—in the way she’d handled Annie yesterday, and in the sharpness of her observations at Donahue’s.
“I hope you’re all excited! We’re about to begin rounds!” Ines said, her tone so upbeat that Ethan wondered if she took happy pills.
“We’ll go around as a group led by a senior physician, and you’ll present your patients and field questions,” she continued, turning sideways to smile at him. “Today, we have a very special guest… Good morning, Dr. Ramsey!”
“Let’s get this show on the road, shall we?” Ethan stated flatly, ignoring the chatter after Delarosa’s announcement. “Let’s see who the interns are going to kill today.”
He saw Valentine shake her head and whisper something to the petite doctor standing beside her. Ethan recognized Trinh immediately, recalling how she’d sent him on a wild goose chase yesterday with that excuse about Toussaint wanting to see him.
“Something to say, Dr. Valentine?” Ethan said, lifting one brow in challenge.
He once again ignored the whispers his question elicited, watching Cassie to see if she’d demonstrate the same courage as yesterday or retreat in self-preservation. For a second, he glimpsed the hesitation on her face, as if she was debating the same. And then her expression turned resolute.
“Yes, actually,” she said, her voice clear and confident. “It’s our second day. You don’t have to make mean jokes to try to shake our confidence.”
Delarosa glanced nervously between Valentine and him, stepping up to play peacemaker. “Ha! Ha ha! Let’s maybe proceed with the—”
“And has your confidence been shaken?” Ethan challenged, suddenly feeling as if they were two fighters staring each other down in the proverbial boxing ring.
“Of course it hasn’t,” she shot back.
“Good,” Ethan said, amused by her response. “Because if I scare you, then you aren’t remotely prepared for what you’ll face on a daily basis here.”
That seemed to mollify her, and she looked away, flushing slightly.
Privately impressed, Ethan conceded the first round to her. Now let’s see how she performs in the second. This match was far from over.
“Actually, why don’t we start rounds with your patient?”
Halfway through morning rounds, Ethan decided Cassie Valentine had earned the right to take over Kyra’s care. How she handled that would decide this bout.
He suspected it would be one of several they’d undertake during her residency.
Morning light spilled lazily through the curtains, soft and golden, settling over rumpled sheets and warm skin. Ethan had been awake for a while, though he hadn’t moved. How could he dare when Lilac was half draped over him, her leg tangled with his, her head resting just beneath his collarbone.
She stirred slightly, breath evening out as she began to wake.
“You’re awake,” he murmured, fingers tracing idle patterns along her back.
“Mmm,” she hummed, not bothering to open her eyes. “Unfortunately.”
A faint smile ghosted across his lips. “It’s a day off.”
“All the more reason not to move,” she countered, tightening her hold on him just a fraction.
“I was planning on going for a run.”
Her response was immediate—a groan, dramatic and deeply offended, as she buried her face further into his chest. “Absolutely not.”
“I didn’t say you had to—”
“You were about to,” she cut in, lifting her head just enough to fix him with a sleepy glare. “And then you were going to give me puppy eyes to convince me.”
That earned a quiet laugh, low and warm against her hair. “I don’t believe I’ve ever given you those.”
“Fine,” she allowed. “More like ‘disappointed physician slash stern physical trainer’ eyes.”
Another laugh from him before kissing her forehead. “Stay here and sleep, love. I’ll be back in an hour.”
“I should go back to my apartment,” she said, voice softer now. “I need more clothes.”
Ethan stilled.
There was nothing out of the ordinary about the statement. Yet, he disliked it.
Lilac shifted, pressing a distracted kiss to his chest as she started to push herself up. “I’ll be quick. I can grab coffee on the way back. Oh, and breakfast from that cafe—”
His arm tightened around her waist before she could get far.
“Don’t go.”
She blinked, caught off guard, then smiled faintly. “Ethan…”
“I mean it.”
Something quiet and heavy coated his tone.
She searched his face. “I’ll be back in like an hour.”
“That’s not the point.”
Her brows knit. “Then what is?”
Ethan remained very still, careful not to rush his words.
“I don’t want you going back and forth like this,” he said finally. “Like you’re… visiting.”
It was Lilac’s turn to go very still.
“You’re not visiting, Lilac. In fact, you’re the only thing that makes this place feel like home.”
She said nothing, breath held as she hinged on every word.
Ethan held her gaze, steady now.
“Move in with me.”
She blinked at him, processing. “That’s—”
“Big,” he finished for her. “Yes.”
She let out a soft, incredulous laugh. “You just… drop that casually?”
“I don’t do anything casually.”
“Clearly.”
She studied him, really studied him, like she needed to be certain this wasn’t just a fleeting thought.
“You’re serious,” she said.
“I am.”
Another beat. Then—
“Okay.”
Ethan blinked once. “Okay?”
She smiled, softer now. “Okay. I’ll move in with you.”
Something like utter relief settled in his chest. He leaned in, kissing her slowly, like he needed to anchor the moment.
When he pulled back, her eyes were still on him, warm but thoughtful.
“You know I might be difficult to live with,” she said.
“I doubt that.”
“No, really,” she insisted, shifting slightly so she could face him fully. “I have odd habits.”
“So do I.”
“I hate the dishwasher.”
“I know.”
She blinked. “You know?”
“I’ve watched you avoid it like it personally offended you.”
“It’s a Mexican thing,” she said with a small laugh. “Growing up, we used ours as storage. We washed everything by hand.”
Ethan’s mouth twitched. “Yes, your sister told me all about how often you had to do that job because of all the bets you’d lose.”
“That’s because she was a filthy cheater.”
Ethan chuckled.
“Back to my weird habits. I also leave drinks everywhere,” she continued. “Half-finished coffee, water, and juice. Sometimes all at once.”
“I’m aware.”
“You’re being suspiciously calm about this.”
“I’ve been living with it already,” he pointed out.
“That’s different. That’s temporary chaos.”
“And this would be permanent chaos?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll survive.”
She huffed a small laugh. “You say that now.”
“I mean it.”
Lilac paused. Then, with a suspiciously casual tone, she said, “I also want a cat.”
Ethan didn’t even hesitate. “Absolutely not.”
She gasped, offended. “You didn’t even think about it.”
“I did. The answer is no.”
“Ethan—”
“No.”
“It could be a nice cat.”
“They all start that way.”
She shoved at his shoulder lightly. “You’re impossible.”
“And yet,” he said smoothly, pulling her back against him, “you agreed to move in with me.”
The truth of the statement seemed to finally hit her. A smile that was pure sunshine broke across her face, followed by a giddy laugh. Unable to help herself, she flung her arms around him and kissed him. Ethan, without hesitation, kissed her back.
“We’re really doing this,” she said breathlessly when they pulled apart.
“We are,” he assured her with a final kiss.
After a moment, her voice softened again. “I’m going to miss them.”
Ethan didn’t have to ask to know she meant her roommates.
“I know.”
“I don’t know how to tell them.”
Ethan took her hand and kissed it reassuringly.
“They’ll be happy for you.”
“They’ll also never leave us alone.”
“That, I fully expect.”
She laughed quietly, settling back into him. Their bodies conformed to the warm tangle of sheets. Ethan, his heart a hundred times lighter, kissed the top of her head and pulled her closer.
The run could wait.
Note: Thank you so much for reading! I already wrote the next part where Lilac tells her roommates she's moving out. Can't wait to share it soon!
Premise: Ethan knows he picked the right person to lead the team.
Fandom: Open Heart
Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Cassie Valentine)
Rating/Category: Teen. Fluff.
Words: 680
A/N: Submission to @choicesmonthlychallenge March prompt "clarity"
(ps. I went with the soft idea rather than canon rewrite.)
He was halfway down the corridor when it hit him. He was going in the wrong direction.
Ethan Ramsey shook his head at his absentmindedness. The path to the diagnostic team’s office on the seventh floor was a familiar one. He’d trekked this way for as long as he could remember, ever since Naveen Banerji had commandeered it all those years ago.
He still remembered the early days, when the team would crowd into Naveen’s old office, competing for space around the whiteboard. The hospital wanted them to prove a diagnostic team could be successful before giving them the resources they needed.
Rather than be fazed, Naveen had taken on the challenge, solving groundbreaking cases one after another, making noise in journals and across the medical community until the administration gave in.
They’d converted two meeting rooms in a dead-end hallway, filled them with the bare minimum of furniture and equipment, and called it a day.
Ethan remembered how Naveen had courted donors until the team was able to fund its mission—and office—properly. It was the one lesson Naveen couldn’t impart to him, no matter how hard he tried.
Schmoozing just didn’t come naturally to Ethan, even after he took over the team. He tolerated the networking and shilling for money, but could never make himself care enough to do what needed to be done.
That wasn’t the case for the new head of diagnostics. He leaned against the wall, angling himself so he had a clear view through the glass walls—but the team couldn’t see him unless they tried.
Cassie Valentine was a natural at making donors believe it had been their idea to part with their funds. Having met her mother, he could well guess where she had acquired those skills.
But it went beyond that.
Where Ethan felt he was compromising his principles by asking for money, Cassie seemed to know how to balance both without ever losing sight of what they were doing. She’d been in the role only a few months, but had already met her fundraising target.
How had someone like that—someone so different from him—captured his heart?
It wasn’t just his heart, though. She challenged his mind, ignited a passion he’d never felt before, made him laugh—often all at the same time.
Ethan still remembered her first day on the diagnostics team. How she’d been uncertain, feeling overwhelmed as Mirani and Hirata quickly ran a blind diagnosis. After the meeting, he’d advised Cassie to speak up, read every journal—even for the most obscure medical cases—to essentially step up.
Privately, he’d recognized they were asking the impossible of a second-year resident. Expecting her to keep on top of her residency requirements while meeting the demands of being a junior diagnostics fellow.
But Cassie wasn’t just any resident. She’d taken his advice to heart, advancing her medical knowledge while still maintaining her relationships and participating in the hospital’s fundraisers. She never lost track of the mission or let herself be swept up in hospital politics.
Watching her now from a distance, leading a team meeting with such confidence for someone so young, he admitted to himself that he was in awe of her. Love had its place, but this was more.
Back during her intern year, she’d told him her long-term goal was to improve patient care. As far as Ethan was concerned, she was the only one he trusted to advance the diagnostic team.
She was his ideal of everything a good doctor should be.
Ethan forced himself to turn around, taking a step back toward the elevator banks—then stopped.
Through the glass, Cassie laughed at something Tobias said, the sound muted but unmistakable. His hand flexed at his side, the impulse sharp and immediate.
He wanted to walk in, to close the distance, to forget, just for a moment, who was watching and let his feelings for her run free.
Instead, Ethan exhaled slowly, steadying himself.
Then he turned and walked away before he could change his mind.
Premise: The aftermath of Ethan losing control when he hears about Naveen’s decision. Rewrite of 1x3 ending in-between scene.
Fandom: Open Heart
Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Cassie Valentine); Naveen Banerji
Rating/Category: Teen. Angsty Fluff.
Words: 1,350
A/N: I've been wanting to rewrite the Ethan wall-punch scene from Book 1 for weeks now. Finally managed to do it. Yay me!
Submission to @choicesmonthlychallenge March prompt "in-between"
Cassie Valentine’s plans for a quick in-and-out of the hospital were dashed when she realized that she needed her missing ID card to swipe herself into the staff entrance.
Cursing at her carelessness for forgetting the card in the first place—and the humidity causing havoc with her hair—she hiked down to the ambulance bay and the emergency department entrance beyond.
Breathing a sigh of relief as a blast of air conditioning cooled her heated forehead, Cassie looked around the busy waiting room for a familiar face.
She hadn’t been at Edenbrook long enough to know most of the medical staff and felt a bit lost. Luckily, she saw Nurse Danny chatting with one of the paramedics and made a beeline for him.
Five minutes later, she was rummaging through the junk shoved under the main reception desk for the lost-and-found box. She almost hooted in success as she located the cardboard box, and dug through a sea of monogrammed pens and ID badges. One even belonged to an attending physician.
I’m not the only one, she consoled herself.
She found hers at the bottom, the magnetic clip and string tangled around a flashlight. She quickly undid the knot and shoved the badge inside the back pocket of her jeans.
At least that’s one humiliation avoided, she grinned, relieved.
She had not been looking forward to running into Dr. Ramsey in the morning without her ID badge squarely clipped to her white coat. The severe attending would never have let her live it down.
Cassie tidied up after herself and started to rise when she heard shouting voices coming up the corridor toward the waiting area. On instinct, she ducked below the reception desk just as Dr. Ramsey stormed in, followed by Dr. Banerji.
“You can’t do this, Naveen! I won’t let you!”
Granted, she was new, but Cassie hadn’t ever heard such anger in Ethan Ramsey’s voice. In her few weeks here, she had noticed he could be cuttingly sarcastic, able to display his displeasure with just one brow arrogantly quirked, and he pinched the bridge of his nose when trying to hold back his frustration.
But what she heard now was anger layered with pain. Unable to contain her curiosity, she peeked over the edge of the desk. Ethan paced angrily, while Naveen Banerji watched him calmly.
Cassie had only witnessed Dr. Banerji in action once, the day she and Bryce had spied on the diagnostics team from the surgical gallery. Even then, he’d been unflappable.
“It must be done, Ethan,” he said, unconcerned. “Not everything is in your control. It’s time you finally learned that.”
Cassie didn’t need to be a genius like Ethan to know he didn’t appreciate that statement.
“You are not my teacher anymore,” he shot back, brows drawn together as he stared down his mentor.
Rather than be offended, that only made Naveen smile. “I am always your teacher.”
She flinched as Ethan punched the wall, leaving a crack in the plaster.
“Dammit, Naveen!” A pained expression crossed his face.
Cassie suspected it was emotional as well as physical. Punching anything was painful, as she knew all too well. But a wall, on top of whatever this fight was about, made Ethan human in her eyes.
Perhaps for the first time, she was seeing the real Ethan Ramsey, not the mask he put on.
-----
Ethan knew if he stayed any longer, watching Naveen throw away everything he’d sacrificed his life for, he would lose whatever semblance of control he valued so much.
He wanted to say more, to counter Naveen’s arguments. But he caught a glimpse of the top of a familiar blonde head and green eyes peeking at them from behind the reception desk.
Valentine!
She was no doubt eavesdropping on his private failings, catching him at his most vulnerable. And he just couldn’t take it anymore.
Without a word, he stormed back into the corridor, wanting to escape Naveen’s unshakable calmness in the face of certain death. To escape the emotions swirling inside him, taunting him that his life would never be the same again.
Reminding him that once more a person he looked up to—even loved—was willing to walk out of his life rather than face the difficult task of trying.
Why couldn’t Naveen just try to find a cure for what ailed him? Why was he giving up the way he’d taught Ethan never to do?
His white coat snapped around his thighs, his long legs carrying him farther from everything he wanted to forget.
As his temper cooled, the pain in his knuckles rose. He tried to shake it off, but the throbbing only intensified.
Christ! What had made him punch a wall?
As a doctor, he knew he could have seriously damaged the nerves in his hand with that stunt. He could clench and unclench his fist, so at least he hadn’t fractured his metacarpals.
Realizing he was close to the emergency department, Ethan stopped and took stock. He could easily browbeat one of the interns into patching up his hand. But he’d had enough of nosy residents for one day.
The injury might be to his dominant hand, but he could take care of it himself. He slipped inside a supply closet and quickly grabbed a wound care kit and metal tray from a shelf.
Ethan cleared some space before using his teeth to tear open the kit, and emptied its contents onto the metal tray.
He examined the bruising and light inflammation forming around his knuckles. It would be worse tomorrow, but not if he could help it.
Wincing as he cleaned the scraped skin with antiseptic wipes, Ethan breathed through his teeth. He felt lightheaded for a moment and held on to the metal shelving for balance until the burning sensation eased.
Satisfied there was no obvious fracture, he spread a thin layer of antibiotic ointment over the torn skin before wrapping gauze around his knuckles with brisk efficiency.
He flexed his fingers once, watching the knuckles align. Good enough, he thought. At least his loss of control wouldn’t have long-term consequences.
He’d mercifully been spared that humiliation.
Suddenly remembering who had witnessed his stupidity in the waiting room, Ethan groaned. Knowing how hospital rumor mills worked, he wouldn’t be surprised if the news of his and Naveen’s argument was already making the rounds of Edenbrook’s hallways.
He absently snapped an instant ice pack and pressed it against the gauze around his knuckles, not noticing how it eased the sting.
Naveen choosing to give up might be out of his control, at least for tonight, but that didn’t mean he was letting some intern run their mouth about it.
Determined to nip the gossip in the bud—and maybe put the fear of God into Valentine—Ethan marched to the nearest nurses’ station and pulled up the residents’ schedule on the computer.
His brows furrowed in confusion when he noted that she was off shift.
So what exactly had she been doing in the hospital after hours?
Puzzling over that mystery, Ethan logged off the computer and headed back to his office.
The next morning, he braced himself for the whispers and prurient interest of the hospital staff about his and Naveen’s falling out. But aside from a few curious glances at his bandaged hand that no one dared ask about, the gossip didn’t feature him at all.
Ethan privately admitted he was stunned Valentine had kept her mouth shut. But perhaps he shouldn’t have been.
He recalled their conversation at Donahue’s after her first day.
“Either you’re sucking up to me, or you’ve got surprisingly refined taste for an intern,” he’d commented after she complimented the special cocktail.
“I’m surprising in a lot of ways,” she’d said, a mischievous glint in her eyes.
Of course, he’d accepted the unspoken challenge and smirked. “You’ll have to prove that.”
Looks like she’d proven it, surprising him with her discretion.
It wasn’t often that he was wrong about someone. Cassie was clearly going to be an exception to the rule.
