Safe Place To Land - Jack Abbot x Reader
When holding your breath is safer than breathing When letting go is braver than keeping When innocent words turn to lies And you can't hide by closing your eyes When the pain is all that they offer Like the kiss from the lips of a monster You know the famine so well, but never met the feast When home is the belly of a beast The ocean is wild and over your head And the boat beneath you is sinking Don't need room for your bags, hope is all that you have So say the Lord's Prayer twice, hold your babies tight Surely someone will reach out a hand And show you a safe place to land Oh, imagine yourself in a building Up in flames, being told to stand still The window's wide open, this is leap is on faith You don't know who will catch you, but maybe somebody will Be the hand of a hopeful stranger Little scared, but you're strong enough Be the light in the dark of this danger 'Til the sun comes up
Pairing: Jack Abbot x f!Surgeon!Reader; established relationship
The story, in a nutshell: Jack and Reader do life things together while being a power-couple and being each other’s safe place to land.
Disclaimer: This is a reader-insert set during both seasons. Self-indulgent fluff with Dr. Jack Abbot. Age-gap but still age-appropriate relationship, because I crave for it. In this universe, Jack did not have a wife before the reader. SFW, for now. Still working on the 18+ installment. Not proofread. I am currently facing my own demons and The Pitt has been my comfort show since, so to distract and save myself from the dark place, I decided to write.
Cross-posted on Ao3.
The thing about your relationship with Jack is that it’s private, not a secret kept like you two are ashamed of it, but rather something precious that only a few trusted people know. An elephant in the room it has always been, but no one is brave enough to confront you about it. There are whispers in the walls all the time, people guessing whether it is just an uncanny friendship, perhaps one with benefits, or something genuine that has been built after years of working together.
You have been working with Jack and Robby since your surgical residency until you finally completed your fellowship years, eventually becoming the primary general and critical trauma surgeon assigned in The Pitt. Their favourite, they say. Unlike others, your exposure in The Pitt has allowed you the opportunity to work with Jack and Robby, and their unorthodox and “cowboy” approach in saving lives when the situation called for it. You never shy away from the risky procedures needed in cases of critical traumas, accepting it is not always going to be an ideal situation for patients and doctors, alike. You do not always have time to wait for tests when the patients are on the brink of death. Being exposed in the ED and trained by one of the greatest cardiothoracic and trauma surgeons, who also tragically passed during the pandemic, always remind you that in certain situations, weighing the risk, taking a leap, and considering every passing second could mean a whole lot of difference in saving a life.
While you have become a respected partner and a dear friend to the duo despite being nearly a decade younger, you have grown especially closer with Jack given how you were almost often assigned to work nights as well.
From hectic ED nights to mornings over breakfast in your favourite diner or a quiet time in either your places, your relationship has progressed beautifully.
You have found your safe place to land in him, a person to hold you when the horrors of life tried to pull you into the abyss, and someone to wait the darkness out until the sun comes up again.
Jack has always felt that way since the beginning and so as both of you saved another critical patient during one Christmas Eve shift, he casually handed you a diamond ring with a promise that you are in it for the long haul. Everything has never felt more right.
The Pittfest Shooting
It started as a normal day. You and your husband woke up around 4:00 PM, tangled in sheets with his face buried on the crook of your neck. You never got used to sleeping at night, much like Jack, hence you sometimes still spent time with him in bed even during your break, which he savoured every moment of, before the reality of your responsibilities forced you out of bed.
The comforting aroma of coffee wafted in the air as you brewed a cup for him, prepared how he liked it and leagues better than the break room coffee he used to drown himself with daily. This was a hobby you picked up during your career break and Jack found it amusing how invested you had become so he indulged you every time. He even bought some of the tools to complete your perfect coffee bar and gave you thorough, unbiased reviews when asked for it. It was also beneficial for him, being able to bring expertly brewed coffee at work, not having to settle for the stale break room coffee. What made it better, though, was that his coffee was always perfected and crafted by his loving wife.
“Oh wow, this is new.” He murmured, voice still raspy from sleep, as he sipped your coffee and allowed a new taste to coat his tongue. You usually experimented with different flavours for your own cup and Jack had always been so enthusiastic in getting a taste before even jumping onto his own signature blend.
You went on explaining how you played with the flavours and topped it with the vanilla bean infused salted cream you made the previous night. Jack listened to you intently, and he could feel his heart swell from utter adoration of your passion towards any craft you put your heart into, beaming ear to ear with such pride towards you.
“I tried a different brand of Brazilian Arabica, a nuttier, more choc—” Your words were cut off as your husband pecked your lips repeatedly, no longer able to keep his admiration in as he held you close by your waist. His cold hands tracing soft circles on the small of your back which made you shiver.
“I love your Witch’s brew, honey, and it’s always mesmerizing to watch you concoct it.” He squeezed you in his arms and placed one more tender kiss on your lips before pulling away and preparing fresh fruits for your overnight oats.
You smiled like an idiot watching your man strut around the kitchen.
---
The two of you were getting dressed and prepared for your supposed dinner reservation at 7:30PM. It has been your tradition, a date night whenever your days off aligned. For the last few months, it became even more regular considering you were on a break. That meant that every time Jack had a day off, regardless of whether he picked up SWAT shifts or not, you got to try something different together. It was Jack’s idea of keeping the romance alive and you always felt like a giddy, newly-wedded wife despite being married for years.
That day, however, hearing his emergency ringtone and seeing the look on his face as he spoke with someone, you knew date night was cancelled.
He walked towards you, putting the phone down on your vanity table. “I am sorry, my love. There’s a mass cas—”
Just as he was about to explain, the breaking news popped on the television screen inside your room.
“Oh god…” You hushed, your husband holding his breath in disbelief beside you, his grip on his crutches tightening. Things like this hit close to home. For you. But mostly for Jack, who not only witnessed but lived through so much worse.
You stood beside him and caressed his arm in an attempt to comfort him, squeezing softly before taking it upon yourself to get his neatly pressed scrubs as he prepared his bag by the bed. Like clockwork, you assisted him in getting the essentials for his prosthesis and put away his crutches. You sat on your footstool before him by the bed, then gently wiped his leg with a soft tissue to get rid of any moisture. You then expertly pulled the gel liner inside out exposing the sticky silicone and pressed the gel cup against his stump ensuring that it was skin-tight with no trapped air to prevent any blisters and discomfort. You rolled the thick sleeves up and then put on the thick prosthetic sock, the one he uses during critical days like this when he’d be on his feet the most of the time. Finally, you fixed the carbon-fiber leg in place with expertise, checking it was snug enough and securing the airtight seal.
Jack watched you closely as you did so with so much love and care, not getting tired of doing this for him for so many years now. He could do it himself, he always told you, but it was something you wanted to do for him since you got together, and most especially when you got married. Simple things like this served as a daily reminder that he has you and he no longer has to face things alone.
Standing, you held your hand out to him, “Can you check now if it feels okay, love?”
Jack took your hand, standing and putting his weight on the leg, feeling the unyielding grip of the vacuum. “It’s perfect, as always.” He smiled lovingly, pulled you close by your nape and kissed your forehead and lips.
“Thank you, honey. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”
“Nothing to make up for, just come home to me safely.” You whispered against his lips before he once again pressed your lips together.
You walked him into the garage and stowed his bag safely into the passenger side for ease of access. You insisted on driving him to the hospital but Jack was adamant that you must stay home, especially in situations like that. He needed you safe.
You could not sit still, though. The stubborn part of you was consistently nagging you that you must do something. Not more than 10 minutes of Jack leaving, another notification about the shooting lit up your screen. Deciding it was time, you took an Uber to PTMC.
You’d deal with Jack later, you thought.
---
The ride was quick, with you practically begging the driver to be as fast as they can considering the emergency situation. Blaring sirens and car horns filled your head, as if a prelude to the chaos that awaited The Pitt.
As expected, the ED entrance was closed, so you made your way into the main hospital entrance along with other rushing doctors and visitors. It was already starting to get packed, with everyone rushing about and PA systems going off without break. The air felt heavy as you scurried towards the elevator going into The Pitt. There were doctors and staff members who noticed you; however, you could only give them a curt nod considering that everyone was rushing to their stations following the MCI protocols.
You made it to the ED while Robby and your husband were giving their final briefing instructions to the team. The nurses and doctors were trying to retain as much information as possible despite the noise around them as the other staff and clerks prepared all supplies and cleared the space for the incoming trauma. There were new and familiar faces, all looking distraught from the rush, afterall, not every one had experienced a mass-casualty event. You also reckoned some of them were either med students or R1s. Poor little med babies thrown into the gates of hell, you thought.
Your futile attempt in discreetly approaching the attending team as the briefing adjourned was shattered when a familiar voice essentially hollered.
“Woah! She is back!”
John Shen. Of course.
Everyone whipped their heads towards your direction. The doctors and staff members who knew you perked up, relieved for additional help. And a damn good one, at that.
“Is this real?” Yolanda Garcia nodded your way, a smile forming into her lips.
“About time! Want to take this, doc?” Walsh playfully groaned, waving the Primary Surgery vest Jack entrusted to her.
“Come on, this is my Day 1, Emery. Help me ease in a bit.” You winked and she surrendered with a confident smile.
“Got it, doc. Good to see you!”
You made a beeline towards the partners-in-crime, taking the surgical gowns Perlah handed you. You mouthed a soft thank you and the nurse gave you her polite smile before turning onto another task.
A surprised look painted Robby’s face, but the man immediately pulled you into a hug. “I am not going to ask you why you’re here, but I am fucking glad you are. Welcome back.”
Everyone who knew you seemed pleased, except one, the Primary ED attending. He was frozen in place and speechless for a brief moment as he met your gaze. His jaw tightened and there was a flicker behind his eyes that you memorized and comprehended the meaning of.
Jack stared at you, his magician of a wife, still in your date-night dress but already putting on double PPEs like you were gearing up for a war. You carried yourself ever confidently, as if the last time you spent in the ED wasn’t a nightmare that still haunted both of you sometimes.
There was vulnerability and shared understanding between you. He knew why you were there and despite his own fears, he put his faith in you like he always did.
Putting his smug facade back on, he smirked, “You look like you aren’t supposed to be here. Sure you can cut with that outfit?”
“Don’t tease me with a good time, Abbot.”
—
“Who is she?” Trinity Santos mumbled under her breath towards Samira Mohan who was looking at you intently.
“Dr. Y/N Y/L/N. The Witch, they call her.”
They were eyeing how you walked around The Pitt with such familiarity and authority, discussing the plan with the other surgeons and even recommending different possible approaches to take depending on the flow of patients from triage. Even Yolanda seemed to value your opinion as they saw her nodding in agreement.
“Suits her, she looks like one… in a good way. She seems intense.” Victoria Javadi hushed from the side.
“She’s kind of a badass, a general critical trauma surgeon, but dabbles in cardiothoracics, too.” Cassie McKay murmured, joining the conversation as they were helping each other with their gowns. “She took a break about four or five months ago.”
“The work finally got to her head?” Dennis Whittaker asked.
“No. She was shot in the ambulance bay by a gang member when she was wheeling in their target.” Mateo finished the story, tyingVictoria’s gown securely.
“I’ve never seen Abbot lose his shit before, except for that night. That was the first time I saw the surgeons rushing to the ED after just one page. Abbot had SWAT roaming around the city in no time.”
—
“Honey, what are you doing here?” Jack asked under his breath as you walked towards Robby when he called the two of you for a quick huddle.
“You need me here. You know that.” Your voice was gentle and reassuring, but firm. He recognized that tone and when you looked him in the eyes, he nodded.
You were right. They needed you that day, more than ever.
“Fine. But you stay close to me.” Your husband ordered, voice just loud enough for you to hear.
“Jack—”
“Promise me. In my line of sight. Always.”
Jack held such authority in his voice that could make you surrender easily. It was a fair deal. It was, after all, a triggering situation for the both of you. He almost lost you the last time you were in the ED and you could never forget the terrified look on his face before you finally lost consciousness.
“I promise.” You moved closer to him, concealing how he reached for your hand and squeezed it tight before letting go. A conversation without words. It was enough, for now.
Robby turned to the two of you and gestured for Samira to join, “Jack, how’d you want us to split this?”
“One doctor per table. Anything most critical goes to Y/N, she can do quick OR procedures without people batting an eye.”
“I’ll stay open to jump from one table to another. Let me handle Walsh and Garcia, should they push back, I spoke with them already, we have a plan. Any downtime, I jump to pink.”
Jack nodded and added a few more reminders, but not without instinctively pulling you by your waist to swap places with him as the nurses came wheeling in more disaster bins from behind, nearly hitting you. That was one of the things you love the most about him—ever so attentive towards you, no matter what he was doing.
It seemed like you only had a minute to prepare the Red Zone when the victims started coming in ceaselessly. You were back in the zone, going table after table, performing OR procedures to stabilize the most critical patients before Emery sent them up. It did not take long for your white gown to be soaked with blood as your voice resonated with orders and instructions to the partner doctors and nurses assigned in the Red Zone.
The new residents and medical students easily saw why you were called the Witch. You worked with both Jack and Robby with expert precision and efficiency, as if the three of you were a well-oiled machine, knowing each part to play. Samira who worked closely with you in the Red Zone could not help but be in awe of the seemingly telepathic connection between you and Jack, moving as one unit, no words needed. You knew the tools he needed or the alternative options when supplies started running out, he anticipated your next steps and flawlessly took over to finish what you started so another patient could be looked after. For a surgeon, you had the backbone of both Jack and Robby, not scared of the unconventional approach if it meant it could save lives. She had seen you work before, but not this close, not with Jack. She could not help but wonder just how many lives the two of you saved together before and what your relationship really was.
—
The situation finally eased a few hours later, so quick yet so long like a fever dream. You were everywhere, being pulled in for consults on the remaining patients from other zones. You had the medstudents and R1s shadowing some of your work.
“Another cowboy method we need to clean-up upstairs.” Dr. Shamsi spat, criticizing how Melissa King and Frank Langdon used an ET tube to function as a chest-tube to drain the hemothorax.
“Is the patient stable?” You whipped your head towards the residents, who both explained that the solution worked.
You looked the senior surgeon dead in the eyes. “Then what seems to be the problem?”
“We could’ve been more prepared with more supplies instead of playing around like this.” Dr. Shamsi’s jaw tightened, not backing down.
You scoffed, incredulously. “Have you considered directing your frustrations to the administration rather than harassing the doctors who are doing their fucking best to save lives here? The patient is alive and stable thanks to Dr. King and Dr. Langdon. And that ET tube.”
You shook your head as you removed your gloves and threw it in the bin, moving to another table when your name was called, not allowing her another retort.
You could feel eyes on you, from both ED staff and patients which you tried to ignore. “Okay, back to your patients, everyone.”
“Man, I am so glad you’re back, doc.” Mateo smirked, calling from the other table where he was working with Victoria who was still wide-eyed in disbelief that you stood up to her mother.
Of course the interaction did not miss your husband’s attention. You met his eyes as he worked on a table across from you, winking at you and mouthing a sly, “Hot.”
Blood rushed to your cheeks.
When Parker Ellis and John Shen were called back inside, the lady basically tackled you into a hug when she saw you. John and Parker claimed themselves as your adoptive kids, to your amusement and Jack’s playful disdain. The day shifters found your dynamics with the ED staff refreshing, given that they usually deal with uptight surgeons in the day. While you held intense glare and a stern face while performing your duties, they could still feel the warmth beneath your strong personality. You were generous in teaching them, as well, despite how critical the cases you were working on were.
Dana gave you a massive hug when she saw you dragging yourself towards the hub, saying she was so glad to see you and giving you a bottle of your favourite electrolyte drink. “We always stock them in the fridge for you and,” she gestured her head towards your husband who was busy doing some admin checks. “Do you feel okay? You’ve been gone for quite some time and this is a hell of a first day back.”
“Not what I expected, but I am okay. I’d rather be here helping than stuck at home worrying.”
Dana squeezed your arm and nodded before another nurse called her attention, and so you took the chance to go to your husband.
“Hey cowboy,” you teased, mimicking how Gloria called him and Robby as you sat by his side. He shook his head but smiled softly, the kind that was reserved only for you. He looked tired, as you all were. You felt bad knowing that it was a much awaited time off for him and yet he had to carry the weight of such responsibility during such a chaotic day.
“You okay, doc?” He asked and turned his body to face you, surveying every bit of you as if checking for anything that ails you.
“Never better,” you sighed, handing him your drink which he took and emptied the remaining half of its content. “You?”
“Better now that you’re here.” He whispered under his breath. Then, another wink.
“I need to go up into the surgery department. They called for me, might have some updates.”
“Do you have to?” You could hear the hesitation in his voice, considering a scare that happened earlier.
-
You were working behind Jack, busy packing a huge bleeder from a patient who got shot in the abdomen. “I need more lap pads,” You called out, but noticing how busy everyone was, you decided to fetch some yourself from the other tables when Langdon yelled a warning, “Woah! Gun! He’s going for his gun!“ In a blink, you were tucked down with Jack’s body covering you from behind. His strong arms wrapped tightly around you, forehead pressed against the back of your heads. You could feel his shaky, heavy breaths as he whispered, “Stay down, baby, I got you.” You reckoned those whispers were more for him than you. “I got you.”
-
You smiled at him. “I’ll be quick. I’ll keep you posted.”
Jack sighed deeply and nodded. You casually smoothened his scrubs and patted his chest as if to ease his worry before making your way to the surgery department.
Little did you know, you were being watched by nearly all the other doctors who were already taking their breaths and coming down from their adrenaline high.
—
You: Where r u? About to finish here. Jack: In our drinking spot, honey. You: Save me a beer? Jack: Always. x
—
From afar you could already hear the chatter and see the nurses and doctors. Mateo, Victoria, and Samira seemingly just joined as you saw Donnie throwing them beers.
“Hope I am not too late to the party?”
“Dr. L/N. It is great to have you back,” Princess welcomed you when you made your way towards them.
Jack made space for you beside him, your hand immediately resting on his right leg and caressing it gently as you took a swig from his beer can. The silent intimacy gave the day shifters another hint of your relationship with the night shift attending.
“Great work earlier today, team. Good job on the Red Zone, Dr. Mohan.” Samira nodded and thanked you politely, eyes landing on Jack’s arm now resting behind the bench and drawing you closer to his side.
You and Jack stayed with the rest of the team after Robby left, sharing stories to the day shifters and answering their endless questions about craziest surgeries or cases you handled before. Some more day shifters joined you, making the atmosphere even lighter.
“I am sorry, Victoria, but Dr. L/N kinda kicked your mom’s ass earlier.” Mateo hushed, recalling the stare down you had with Dr. Shamsi.
“Oh. Your mom terrorized me when I was a resident.” You said to Victoria, making Jack snort and tell the story of how he once found you in the ED staff lounge when you were still a resident, drawing horns on Dr. Shamsi’s photo in a surgical department brochure. Everyone burst out laughing, including the med student whose eyes were still wide from all the stories.
“I hate you so much,” you groaned playfully, only for Jack to kiss your head as an apology, completely letting go of his guard and forgetting there were new eyes on the two of you.
There was a pregnant pause as they watched the moment between the two of you. Bold as ever, Princess piped in. “Fuck. Okay… can we please address the elephant in the room? Are you…?” She asked, pointing at you and Jack.
“Married? Yes, 7 years.” Jack said with certainty.
“SEVEN?!”
“Mhm. 10 years together.”
4th of July
An unwelcomed phone call woke you up from your slumber by midday. The chief surgeon requested your presence urgently due to the diversions from Westbridge and more hands were needed considering it was the holiday. Begrudgingly, you got up, showered, and packed everything you needed for yet another long shift. You were thankful it was Jack’s day off the previous night and you were on time off for your regular check-up, at least both of you had the chance to rest.
The meeting with the surgery department was brief, with the agenda being the Westbridge diversions and the OR planning that needed to be done. Once the meeting adjourned, Yolanda told you that Jack brought a SWAT team member who was shot and gave you updates to relay to your husband. Great, your husband did not even bother letting you know. You forced a smile, thanked her, and let her know that you’d see to it.
The Pitt was packed with various cases, and during holidays like this, it was not a surprise. Everyone had their hands full with doctors and patients milling around the overflow of beds on the hallways. You were basically powered by caffeine and your ears were still ringing from the lack of sleep as you roamed to find your husband.
“Has anyone seen Dr. Abbot?” You asked people in the hub but everyone just shook their heads, with Princess sharing that they were diverted there as well.
Nodding, you put your phone out to text him as you continued your search. Listlessly, you entered one of the rooms. Your breath hitched. There he was, shirt discarded, first aid supplies displayed in front of him, and Samira standing behind him murmuring a soft, “Our little secret.”
Jack saw you, and the sullen look on your face. He immediately stood but you raised your hand to stop him and walked away shaking your head in utter disbelief.
He fucked up, he thought
—
You had an argument that morning. Not a huge one, just you being worried that he picked up a SWAT shift on a day like that. You were upset that he still decided to leave, and he was annoyed that you made his holiday shift a big-deal. He did not usually allow you to sleep with a heavy heart but he was running late. Pressing a kiss on your head, he made a promise that he’d fix it later.
You had accepted long ago that loving Jack came with living with the demons that haunted him for so long. You knew your relationship with him might never be enough to heal the trauma he experienced in the field and that he needed another outlet. You understood that and supported him, like how he always did with you. You discussed early in the relationship whether you wanted to have children. It was not something the two of you were closed off and while you did not actively try to conceive, you were also not on birth control and weren’t using any other contraceptives. But even when you weren’t blessed with a child, it always felt like the two of you were enough.
Times like this, however, got you thinking how different things would have been if you had children, and whether that would've been enough to silence the demons you both were facing.
–
You weren’t prepared for a double-shift during one of the busiest days of the year. But then, here you were, roped into the analogue mess because of the cyberattack that happened in Westbridge that prompted PTMC to shut-down its systems as well. That and the additional diversions, you found yourself stuck in the hospital, and it was not a surprise that your husband was too.
The next time you saw each other was when you were paged for the emergency consultation that Yolanda transitioned to you. Jack was assisting Robby with Howard Knox, a patient who he just accompanied to Presby for a CT. Yolanda filled you in about her initial diagnosis, but given it was a critical case, she felt the patient would best be under your care. But, you also knew it was a classic surgeon move—hard to fly a plane when you know it’s about to crash.
There was tension in the trauma room, quiet yet heavily felt. Your eyes automatically searched for your husband, and reading his expression, you knew it was serious.
“Welcome back, Mr. Knox. My name is Dr. Y/N L/N. I am going to be your primary consultant from now on.” You smiled warmly at him, placing a hand on his forearm before turning your head towards Jack. “What did we discover?”
“Diverticular abscess that progressed to perforation, now with free air under the diaphragm.” Jack gave you a knowing look before handing over the CT result towards you.
“In English, please.” The patient asked using the VidaTalk device, an obvious distress clouding his otherwise bright disposition.
“There’s a small hole in the colon that’s spilling bacteria into the abdomen,” Frank explained.
“You’re likely to develop peritonitis and sepsis.” Your husband added.
“How bad?” Howard asked Jack. The patient’s brows scrunched in worry.
“You need surgery now.” Pausing, you turned to look the patient in the eyes and continued, “I know this is going to be hard to take, but there's a 100% chance of death if we don’t do the surgery.”
You could see the look of fear in Howard’s eyes, “With it?”
You met your husband’s eyes as if drawing strength from him. “50% chance.”
“I could die?”
“Yes, but we are very good at what we do.” You tried your best to reassure the man, but even that you knew was otiose.
“That is what the consent is for,” Langdon supported.
“What about my sister?” The patient once again asked. You could feel your heart break for him. He must be feeling scared, alone, and embracing the inevitability of what could happen to him.
You could not help but observe Jack’s expression which spoke so much volume. He was once in Howard’s situation, battling his struggles alone… until you came. You could no longer count how many times he thanked you for being there to dance through the darkness with him until you both found the light. His safest, softest place to land.
The youngest doctor in the room, Dennis Whitaker, finally spoke. “We found her, she’d like to speak with you.”
“Howard, I need you to understand that any delay increases the risk of the surgery.” You pressed gently, but it had to be said. Jack saw the sadness in your eyes. Like him, you wanted to give Howard a chance to speak to his sister. Not allowing him a few minutes did not guarantee a higher chance of survival anyway.
Jack spoke, shifting his gaze between you and the patient, “We’re going to make that happen for you.”
“I’ll have them prep an OR. Please make it as fast as you can, Dr. Abbot.” You said as you exchanged glances with the doctors and left the room.
Once you have called for an emergency OR, you went back down to assist in wheeling Howard to the surgical unit. It was a quiet ride but there was a sense of relief in Howard’s face when you asked him whether he was able to speak with his sister. He nodded softly.
“That’s good.”
As you reached the floor and the door of the operating room, Howard once more pressed VidaTalk, “Wait.”
Your husband paused and looked at the patient, “Something wrong?”
“Thank you for everything, Dr. Abbot. You are amazing.”
A small smile tugged on the corner of Jack’s lips as he gripped Howard’s shoulder, “You’ll be under the care of an even more amazing doctor, Howard. My wife will take very good care of you.”
Howard gleefully turned to you as if confirming what Jack said and you nodded, a gentle smile on your face. “I know my husband’s charming, but I agree with him. I am kinda great at what I do.” You reassured the man and signalled for the nurses to proceed wheeling him inside the room.
You and Jack stayed back to watch, savouring a few seconds of silence which was broken as your husband sighed deeply.
“He’s a good guy.”
“I’ll do my best to get him through.” As if on instinct, you fiddled on your engagement and wedding band tucked safely inside your scrubs in a gold necklace.
You felt Jack’s hand on your elbow, yanking you closer so you were facing each other.
“I was an ass, honey. I am sorry. And what you saw earlier—”
“That, you are. Did not even tell your wife you were shot.” You scoffed and rolled your eyes before meeting his gaze. “But I trust you.”
That was the only thing you needed to say to calm the storm that had been bubbling inside him since your fight that morning.
He looped an arm around your waist and pressed a kiss on your forehead. “You know I love you, right?”
“I know. And I love you, too. But Howard needs me now and you need sleep.”
You stepped away reluctantly, but he drew you closer again, “I’ll see you after yeah? We’ll talk properly.”
“We will. Now sleep!” You shoved him playfully and made your way into the OR.
“Let’s go and work our magic, team!”
—
06:30 PM
The surgery was an arduous process which took more than three hours. Still, it was shorter than you initially expected and Howard managed to pull through, despite coding twice.
By the time you finished all your manual operating records and clinical summary, you were drained—physically, emotionally, and mentally. But there was relief as well. You were glad you stepped in and that you were able to get him through it. The next 48 hours would be the most crucial for him and once he got out of it, only then could you say he’s completely out of the woods. It would be another successful surgery under your belt, should his recovery go smoothly.
You went into the attending’s lounge to wash up and change your scrubs after the surgery. Leaving the shower room, you saw your husband there waiting—a freezing electrolyte drink in one hand and a bag of your favourite chicken quesadilla with extra guacamole in the other.
Your shoulders dropped as if a huge weight had been lifted off you. Seeing Jack made you realize you needed just one thing—him.
In a blink, he had you caged in his arms in a loving embrace as you released all the pent up breath and tension you had been holding in.
“Show me…” You hushed, nuzzling against his chest and listening to the comforting, steady beating of his heart. He smelt clean—a whiff of antiseptic, his favourite minty soap, your favourite perfume of his sprayed onto fresh scrubs, and his natural comforting musk. He smelt like home. Your home.
“Honey, you can just tell me if you want to see me naked. I am sure there’s an on-call room available.” Jack teased, though he knew what you meant. He walked towards the bathroom, immediately discarding his scrub and his undershirt.
You could see the deep, angry red mark marring his perfect skin. “You need more ointment on that…” Your voice was shaky and your eyes welled with tears, realizing that it could’ve been worse. Like what he once experienced on the battlefield. Like when you got shot and he almost lost you.
“Hey,” Jack mumbled, tilting your head so he could look into your eyes. His eyebrows scrunched with worry as he stroked your face with his thumb. “I am okay, my love. I promise. Just a scratch, yeah?” He wiped the tears that rolled down your cheek, kissing both your eyes, nose, and then lips before hugging you once again. “I am sorry, my love. I should’ve listened to you.”
“I am sorry, too. For being cranky this morning. I was fucking worried when Garcia told me that you brought in a SWAT member and then I saw you with Mohan… not knowing what happened to you…” You sighed, wiping your tears away and looping your arms around his neck. “I know she was just helping you… but I was fucking annoyed you did not come to me.”
Jack listened attentively, tucking your hair behind your ear as you looked up at him.
“I know, honey. I did not want to worry you. I mean… that was the exact thing we argued about this morning.”
You cocked your brow, “See? I told you.”
“Your point was so aimed, it bit me in the ass.”
“What is it about us and getting shot?!” You blurted, chuckling through your sobs.
Jack snorted, wiped your tears, and dived in for another kiss.
Deeper, hungrier, and more ardent this time eliciting a soft moan from you.
He smirked. Oh, how he loved hearing that.
Ass.
“Let’s eat. We’ve 30 minutes before our official shift.”
“What if I eat you instead?” He teased, putting his shirt back on and then setting your food out on the table.
You watched how meticulous he was, whatever he had his hands on. He was effortlessly exact, ensuring that your quesadilla was plated in a way that you prefer and that your extra guacamole was served on the side, putting extra ice in your cup for your electrolyte drink despite it being ice cold already, and pulling your chair close to his so you could easily take a bite of his tacos as you wished. He did things with natural finesse, a muscle memory ingrained from years of doing it.
The universe had blessed you with Jack Abbot and could not ask for more. Your heart was bursting at the seams as you were reminded how lucky you are to be with this amazing man, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, and in light and in darkness.
You love him deeply. So remind him, you did.
“I am glad you are my emergency contact person... and my home. We make a damn great team, Abbot.”
Jack’s lips curled into a loving grin, the lines on the side of his eyes crinkling in the way you’ve always loved and adored.
He peered at you as if you were his lifeline, because in truth, you are.
No words were needed as Jack closed the gap between your lips, not minding the taste of the salsa and guac, just basking in every stolen second before the two of you start saving lives once again.
