Hihi!!! Hope everythings okay with you and I hope to give u inspiration!! Regarding V for Vendetta 👉👈
A small fic inspired by the song Cry Baby Cry by the Angels where the reader is having one for those days where they can't help but cry about nothing or everything. That's just my 50 cents, thank you!!
Just One of Those Days
V x GN!Reader
Words: 2.3k+
A/N: okay, as someone who deals with BPD and PMDD, this fic hit hard for me to write. the way i flip back and forth between happy/sad/angry is so draining. Tysm for the request! I haven't felt to inspired to write for V, butttt I just rewatched the film and i may try to cook up more ideas. Hope you enjoyed!! Also I tried out posting fics under the ask. i used to not do that, but I figured try it out.
When you woke up, you already felt that pit in your stomach. You let out a deep sigh and reach out to the other side of the bed, finding it empty. V usually rises earlier than you or doesn't sleep at all, and yet not feeling him makes your throat tighten and eyes sting. You roll onto your side and curl up as you try not to cry over something that usually doesn't bother you.
You take an extra ten minutes to get up and start your day. Shuffling out of your bedroom and through the shadow gallery, you head to the kitchen for something to eat. V is still nowhere to be seen or heard and you try not to let it bother you. He's a busy man with his schemes and plans. You entered this relationship with him after you saved him and he gave you refuge knowing he would be away for many hours. And yet, as you pull a plate down for your breakfast, you can feel the stinging of salty tears in your eyes again.
You don't know why you get like this sometimes. It feels like you have a weight on both your chest and shoulders…where everything and anything no matter how big or how small the issue is makes you cry. You could be having a relatively nice day but if you were in this funk? One little thing that usually wouldn't bother you will set off the tears. You would've gone to the doctor about it but under Sutler's rule? You likely would have been black bagged long before you helped V out.
You pull out several foods you wanted to incorporate in the makeshift breakfast you're tossing together from the fridge. Just a simple mishmash of things you like and–your hand freezes when you look at your plate and see mold.
“What? This stuff is still pretty fresh.” You murmur out loud and make sure to check the dates on some of the foods. Maybe they weren't sealed back up properly, or maybe it's just a bad batch. But once again, the tears fill and spill from your waterline as you haphazardly dump what you already plated into the trash and quickly wash your hands. Instead you whip up some toast to nibble on.
You shuffle back into the main room and plop down on the couch. You grab the box from the coffee table and shuffle through various banned DVD cases to pick out something to watch. Your fingers pause on a certain one and you feel a surge of emotions rush through you. It wasn't even that memorable of a film but you remember your parents saved up the money and broke the law to buy it from a smuggler as it was a banned movie. You tear up from the sentiment alone this time before you opened the case, got up, and popped the DVD into the player.
You curl up under blankets as you watch the nostalgic movie. You're surprised at the fact you didn't cry during the film given how you've been feeling today. But when the movie ends, you can feel your lips start to quiver and a wave of emotions crashes down on you like a tsunami.
You can't help but connect the movie back to your parents before you lost them to Sutler and Creedy. You long for the carefree days of your childhood before you became all too aware of the atrocities happening around you. You remember the fun games your father would play with you or when he'd have you help him fix up the car (holding the flashlight was very important business). Your mother taught you family recipes you still remember and showed you how to patch up clothes when you played a little too hard with the neighborhood kids. It was a time where you didn't worry too much and you felt reassured by your parents that while the government is harsh and overbearing, nothing would happen to your family. That the fingermen wouldn’t take away your parents in the middle of the night and drop you off at a government regulated foster home.
And then you felt guilty that you wanted to go back to that time when you've been getting by–surviving–and finding joy again with V. The man who sweeps you off your feet and showers you with love and respect; something your last partners couldn't be bothered to give you. He's attentive with your needs when he isn’t scheming his take down of Sulter and he makes you feel special. You're nearly sobbing
“Ugh.” You slouch into the couch cushions, holding one of the blankets around you a little tighter. You let the credits roll as your sob session quickly resolves itself and you're left sniffling and your bottom lip quivering. Your eyes feel so, so sore and tender at this point, and the day isn't even over.
“Maybe I should clean and distract myself.” You mumble to yourself, a habit you picked up from V. You reluctantly unwrap your blankets and slowly stand up from the couch, taking a deep breath in hopes you'll stay calm and keep you productive enough.
You shuffle across the shadow gallery. First you dusted but then you felt tears spring up and you can tell it wasn't from the dust being disturbed. You wipe down any surfaces that need it, clean the kitchen and go through the food for anything else that may have expired or gone bad, and organize where you could. You even made it back to the bedroom to make the bed you left crumpled when you woke up. Your little cleaning spree worked (for the most part) in keeping you focused enough to not think about the urges to cry at anything and everything, or nothing at all.
You go back to the couch and lounge for a few minutes in peace, satisfied with the work you accomplished. Your mind doesn't drift off and you feel a little lighter all around. Maybe you can get through this day with no more tears shed.
Then, you hear V's footsteps echoing through the hallway that leads into the Shadow Gallery; something he makes sure to do so you aren't startled. You perk up from the couch and when you see him emerge, you can’t help but get up and practically speedwalk up to him. You feel tears well up and spill freely from your tender eyes once more and you don't hate it this time.
“My love, why the tears?” V hums as the back of his fingers trail down your cheek before you pull him into a tight hug.
“Just happy to see you is all.” You murmur followed by a sniffle. Your fingers curl and grip onto his cape a little tighter.
“Has it been one of those days?”
Your breath hitches and you pull back, your lips wobbling once more as your happy tears shift. “Is it that obvious?”
“Your eyes are swollen. It is okay though, my dear. I am just sorry that I was not here for you.”
“Oh, V. You're so sweet.” Another rush of tears hits you causing you to nuzzle your face against his shirt and the metal breast plate beneath it.
He places his hand on the back of your head and chuckles, “I did not mean to make you cry further.”
“I've been crying all day. I hate getting like this.”
“I know, but I am here now. Let me make today a little better for you.” Both of his gloved hands cup your face, his thumbs brushing under your eyes to wipe away any remaining tears. “How much did you eat today, my dear?”
“Just toast.” You nuzzle into one of his palms. “I was going to eat something more but what I grabbed was spoiled.”
He tuts softly but not at you. “That is a shame. I will keep a better eye out on what I take from the Chancellor next time. Come, we can cook together.”
V gently takes your hand in his and leads you into the kitchen with him. He gets his flowery apron on and then insists on helping you put on your frilly one much to your feigned protest. He starts pulling out ingredients, double-checking each thing, before removing his gloves.
“You'll have whatever you want, my love. Are you prepared to vanquish your hunger?” His theatrics make you laugh softly and you're pretty sure that's his goal. He slips off his gloves and sets them aside on the kitchen table. The sight of his intensely scarred flesh once shocked you, but it is a feature of V you’ve come to love and understand. The pain he must have gone through all thanks to Sutler and his cronies makes your heartache and tears form in your eyes. You turn away from him in hopes to hide the tears but you know it was a futile attempt. V is all too observant. You hear his footsteps approach you and his arms wrap around your middle.
“I’m-”
“No apologies, my dear. Just tell me what you are thinking.” You feel him press his mask against the top of your head.
“I…I was just thinking about you and the pain you’ve been through.” You’re then quick to add. “It’s not pity…just overwhelming love and sadness for you, V.”
“Oh, my dear.” V chuckles, squeezing you gently in his arms before turning you around to face him. “No tears for me, though I appreciate the sentiment. Now, tell me what you want and let us cook it.”
“Since I didn’t get to have a proper breakfast…Breakfast for dinner?” You give him a small smile.
“Breakfast for dinner it is… A full breakfast or-”
“No. Something simple. And hot cocoa, please.”
V lets out a hum at your response and ushers you along to follow his lead. A true staple in the recipes he seems to have memorized, V helps you prepare two pieces of ‘eggs in a basket’ paired with one of your favorite breakfast sides. Any little mistake you make, V is quick to distract you or make his own ridiculous mistake to make you laugh. It is a quick little moment, cooking with him, but it was one that lightened you.
V had you eat on the sofa as he went through his movie collection.
“I’ve already cried at one movie today. It’s perhaps best if you pick the movie.” You chuckle before taking another bite out of your food.
“And I will be here to shoulder you when you do once again.” V muses and plucks out a case.
Much like you predicted, you cried during the film while trying to drink your cooling cocoa, the flavor rich and deep. But this time, a strong arm wraps around your shoulder and pulls you in close, letting you cling to him. His hand, still ungloved, gently trails up and down your back in comforting motions and by the end of the movie, your eyes feel puffy and sore once more. Your hand is a tight fight on his thigh until he coos softly and presses the hard nose and lips of his mask to your temple.
“Let's get to the bath and then bed. Some rest will do you good.” His voice is low and soothing as he helps you to your feet. You're exhausted from the crying today and clearly it is obvious to your partner. V is steady as he guides you to the bathroom for a quick bath. You giggle when he helps you bathe and when he finishes, wrapping a fluffy towel around you. You let out a surprised noise when he lifts you up and carries you into the bedroom you share with him; his immense strength always caught you off guard.
He dresses you in fresh clothes before he pulls back the covers, making you lay down. The only article of clothing V opts to remove from himself are his boots, his feet covered by thick, black socks, before he dims the lights and then joins in laying beside you. You immediately curl up against him, feeling relaxed…yet not truly calm.
You stare at his chest for a few moments before shifting back to stare at his mask. Despite everything and how the world cruelly shaped him, V is still so soft and gentle with you. Only for you. You feel the intense emotions hit you once again and he grunts to hold you against him once more. You don’t fight it, pressing the side of your head into his chest to hear his strong heartbeat.
“Why do you put up with me, V?” You mumble out loud. “I am a mess.”
“Because of the same reason you put up with me and my…escentricities: you love me and I love you dearly.” He keeps his voice low. “I am a mess too. I am a catastrophe–a monster, yet you stay by my side. You’ve taught me to love, something I didn’t think I would ever feel after what happened in Larkhill. I will be here for you no matter how many tears you shed or however many days you have where you feel like this.”
You don’t say anything at first, but when you part your lips, he stops you.
“No apologies, my dear.” He repeats to you again, his hand coming up to keep your head pressed against him. “You can’t help the way you feel and I do not fault you in that.”
“I was actually going to say I love you a lot, V.” You chuckle. “But I appreciate the sentiments nonetheless.”
“Oh.” He chuckles and pauses, moving his hand away from your head to hold you tightly. “I love you too, my dear.”
You let out a little huff and for the first time all day, you feel lighter. V’s words touched you deeply. You know you are going to have more days like this in the future, probably until you take your last breath. But you also know V will be by your side through each bad day and for every tear.
Hihi!!! Hope everythings okay with you and I hope to give u inspiration!! Regarding V for Vendetta 👉👈
A small fic inspired by the song Cry Baby Cry by the Angels where the reader is having one for those days where they can't help but cry about nothing or everything. That's just my 50 cents, thank you!!
Just One of Those Days
V x GN!Reader
Words: 2.3k+
Warnings/Content: talks of in world violence (black bagging), readers parents implied to be black bagged and dead, tough day for the reader, lots of crying, lots of comfort
A/N: okay, as someone who deals with BPD and PMDD, this fic hit hard for me to write. the way i flip back and forth between happy/sad/angry is so draining. Tysm for the request! I haven't felt to inspired to write for V, butttt I just rewatched the film and i may try to cook up more ideas. Hope you enjoyed!! Also I tried out posting fics under the ask. i used to not do that, but I figured try it out.
When you woke up, you already felt that pit in your stomach. You let out a deep sigh and reach out to the other side of the bed, finding it empty. V usually rises earlier than you or doesn't sleep at all, and yet not feeling him makes your throat tighten and eyes sting. You roll onto your side and curl up as you try not to cry over something that usually doesn't bother you.
You take an extra ten minutes to get up and start your day. Shuffling out of your bedroom and through the shadow gallery, you head to the kitchen for something to eat. V is still nowhere to be seen or heard and you try not to let it bother you. He's a busy man with his schemes and plans. You entered this relationship with him after you saved him and he gave you refuge knowing he would be away for many hours. And yet, as you pull a plate down for your breakfast, you can feel the stinging of salty tears in your eyes again.
You don't know why you get like this sometimes. It feels like you have a weight on both your chest and shoulders…where everything and anything no matter how big or how small the issue is makes you cry. You could be having a relatively nice day but if you were in this funk? One little thing that usually wouldn't bother you will set off the tears. You would've gone to the doctor about it but under Sutler's rule? You likely would have been black bagged long before you helped V out.
You pull out several foods you wanted to incorporate in the makeshift breakfast you're tossing together from the fridge. Just a simple mishmash of things you like and–your hand freezes when you look at your plate and see mold.
“What? This stuff is still pretty fresh.” You murmur out loud and make sure to check the dates on some of the foods. Maybe they weren't sealed back up properly, or maybe it's just a bad batch. But once again, the tears fill and spill from your waterline as you haphazardly dump what you already plated into the trash and quickly wash your hands. Instead you whip up some toast to nibble on.
You shuffle back into the main room and plop down on the couch. You grab the box from the coffee table and shuffle through various banned DVD cases to pick out something to watch. Your fingers pause on a certain one and you feel a surge of emotions rush through you. It wasn't even that memorable of a film but you remember your parents saved up the money and broke the law to buy it from a smuggler as it was a banned movie. You tear up from the sentiment alone this time before you opened the case, got up, and popped the DVD into the player.
You curl up under blankets as you watch the nostalgic movie. You're surprised at the fact you didn't cry during the film given how you've been feeling today. But when the movie ends, you can feel your lips start to quiver and a wave of emotions crashes down on you like a tsunami.
You can't help but connect the movie back to your parents before you lost them to Sutler and Creedy. You long for the carefree days of your childhood before you became all too aware of the atrocities happening around you. You remember the fun games your father would play with you or when he'd have you help him fix up the car (holding the flashlight was very important business). Your mother taught you family recipes you still remember and showed you how to patch up clothes when you played a little too hard with the neighborhood kids. It was a time where you didn't worry too much and you felt reassured by your parents that while the government is harsh and overbearing, nothing would happen to your family. That the fingermen wouldn’t take away your parents in the middle of the night and drop you off at a government regulated foster home.
And then you felt guilty that you wanted to go back to that time when you've been getting by–surviving–and finding joy again with V. The man who sweeps you off your feet and showers you with love and respect; something your last partners couldn't be bothered to give you. He's attentive with your needs when he isn’t scheming his take down of Sulter and he makes you feel special. You're nearly sobbing
“Ugh.” You slouch into the couch cushions, holding one of the blankets around you a little tighter. You let the credits roll as your sob session quickly resolves itself and you're left sniffling and your bottom lip quivering. Your eyes feel so, so sore and tender at this point, and the day isn't even over.
“Maybe I should clean and distract myself.” You mumble to yourself, a habit you picked up from V. You reluctantly unwrap your blankets and slowly stand up from the couch, taking a deep breath in hopes you'll stay calm and keep you productive enough.
You shuffle across the shadow gallery. First you dusted but then you felt tears spring up and you can tell it wasn't from the dust being disturbed. You wipe down any surfaces that need it, clean the kitchen and go through the food for anything else that may have expired or gone bad, and organize where you could. You even made it back to the bedroom to make the bed you left crumpled when you woke up. Your little cleaning spree worked (for the most part) in keeping you focused enough to not think about the urges to cry at anything and everything, or nothing at all.
You go back to the couch and lounge for a few minutes in peace, satisfied with the work you accomplished. Your mind doesn't drift off and you feel a little lighter all around. Maybe you can get through this day with no more tears shed.
Then, you hear V's footsteps echoing through the hallway that leads into the Shadow Gallery; something he makes sure to do so you aren't startled. You perk up from the couch and when you see him emerge, you can’t help but get up and practically speedwalk up to him. You feel tears well up and spill freely from your tender eyes once more and you don't hate it this time.
“My love, why the tears?” V hums as the back of his fingers trail down your cheek before you pull him into a tight hug.
“Just happy to see you is all.” You murmur followed by a sniffle. Your fingers curl and grip onto his cape a little tighter.
“Has it been one of those days?”
Your breath hitches and you pull back, your lips wobbling once more as your happy tears shift. “Is it that obvious?”
“Your eyes are swollen. It is okay though, my dear. I am just sorry that I was not here for you.”
“Oh, V. You're so sweet.” Another rush of tears hits you causing you to nuzzle your face against his shirt and the metal breast plate beneath it.
He places his hand on the back of your head and chuckles, “I did not mean to make you cry further.”
“I've been crying all day. I hate getting like this.”
“I know, but I am here now. Let me make today a little better for you.” Both of his gloved hands cup your face, his thumbs brushing under your eyes to wipe away any remaining tears. “How much did you eat today, my dear?”
“Just toast.” You nuzzle into one of his palms. “I was going to eat something more but what I grabbed was spoiled.”
He tuts softly but not at you. “That is a shame. I will keep a better eye out on what I take from the Chancellor next time. Come, we can cook together.”
V gently takes your hand in his and leads you into the kitchen with him. He gets his flowery apron on and then insists on helping you put on your frilly one much to your feigned protest. He starts pulling out ingredients, double-checking each thing, before removing his gloves.
“You'll have whatever you want, my love. Are you prepared to vanquish your hunger?” His theatrics make you laugh softly and you're pretty sure that's his goal. He slips off his gloves and sets them aside on the kitchen table. The sight of his intensely scarred flesh once shocked you, but it is a feature of V you’ve come to love and understand. The pain he must have gone through all thanks to Sutler and his cronies makes your heartache and tears form in your eyes. You turn away from him in hopes to hide the tears but you know it was a futile attempt. V is all too observant. You hear his footsteps approach you and his arms wrap around your middle.
“I’m-”
“No apologies, my dear. Just tell me what you are thinking.” You feel him press his mask against the top of your head.
“I…I was just thinking about you and the pain you’ve been through.” You’re then quick to add. “It’s not pity…just overwhelming love and sadness for you, V.”
“Oh, my dear.” V chuckles, squeezing you gently in his arms before turning you around to face him. “No tears for me, though I appreciate the sentiment. Now, tell me what you want and let us cook it.”
“Since I didn’t get to have a proper breakfast…Breakfast for dinner?” You give him a small smile.
“Breakfast for dinner it is… A full breakfast or-”
“No. Something simple. And hot cocoa, please.”
V lets out a hum at your response and ushers you along to follow his lead. A true staple in the recipes he seems to have memorized, V helps you prepare two pieces of ‘eggs in a basket’ paired with one of your favorite breakfast sides. Any little mistake you make, V is quick to distract you or make his own ridiculous mistake to make you laugh. It is a quick little moment, cooking with him, but it was one that lightened you.
V had you eat on the sofa as he went through his movie collection.
“I’ve already cried at one movie today. It’s perhaps best if you pick the movie.” You chuckle before taking another bite out of your food.
“And I will be here to shoulder you when you do once again.” V muses and plucks out a case.
Much like you predicted, you cried during the film while trying to drink your cooling cocoa, the flavor rich and deep. But this time, a strong arm wraps around your shoulder and pulls you in close, letting you cling to him. His hand, still ungloved, gently trails up and down your back in comforting motions and by the end of the movie, your eyes feel puffy and sore once more. Your hand is a tight fight on his thigh until he coos softly and presses the hard nose and lips of his mask to your temple.
“Let's get to the bath and then bed. Some rest will do you good.” His voice is low and soothing as he helps you to your feet. You're exhausted from the crying today and clearly it is obvious to your partner. V is steady as he guides you to the bathroom for a quick bath. You giggle when he helps you bathe and when he finishes, wrapping a fluffy towel around you. You let out a surprised noise when he lifts you up and carries you into the bedroom you share with him; his immense strength always caught you off guard.
He dresses you in fresh clothes before he pulls back the covers, making you lay down. The only article of clothing V opts to remove from himself are his boots, his feet covered by thick, black socks, before he dims the lights and then joins in laying beside you. You immediately curl up against him, feeling relaxed…yet not truly calm.
You stare at his chest for a few moments before shifting back to stare at his mask. Despite everything and how the world cruelly shaped him, V is still so soft and gentle with you. Only for you. You feel the intense emotions hit you once again and he grunts to hold you against him once more. You don’t fight it, pressing the side of your head into his chest to hear his strong heartbeat.
“Why do you put up with me, V?” You mumble out loud. “I am a mess.”
“Because of the same reason you put up with me and my…escentricities: you love me and I love you dearly.” He keeps his voice low. “I am a mess too. I am a catastrophe–a monster, yet you stay by my side. You’ve taught me to love, something I didn’t think I would ever feel after what happened in Larkhill. I will be here for you no matter how many tears you shed or however many days you have where you feel like this.”
You don’t say anything at first, but when you part your lips, he stops you.
“No apologies, my dear.” He repeats to you again, his hand coming up to keep your head pressed against him. “You can’t help the way you feel and I do not fault you in that.”
“I was actually going to say I love you a lot, V.” You chuckle. “But I appreciate the sentiments nonetheless.”
“Oh.” He chuckles and pauses, moving his hand away from your head to hold you tightly. “I love you too, my dear.”
You let out a little huff and for the first time all day, you feel lighter. V’s words touched you deeply. You know you are going to have more days like this in the future, probably until you take your last breath. But you also know V will be by your side through each bad day and for every tear.
just read your kinktober fic with the asset and oh my godddd it was SO HOT IM SWEATING 🥵
AHHH YAY!
It's honestly one of my favorites that I have written since I went out of my 'comfort' zone of writing! Im glad you enjoyed it too! TYSM for this message <3
Content/Warning(s): crossover au, mostly from jacks POV, reader comes and visits with injuries, characters are probably OOC, reader's backstory is discussed (death/parent death, torture), John Winchester mentioned, SMUT (penetration, protected sex, jack is lowkey a brat and likes to be dominated in this lol) (I tried to be as non-specific with readers body as possible), Dean's an ass again but I love him.
Summary: A look into your relationship with Jack, and the abnormalities that follow.
A/N: Sorry this took so long, my brain is a little scrambled as of late. But I have the remaining two chapters I have planned out, I just gotta write them. It'll probably be a minute, bc I am also working on a big fic I hope to get done in May for Mermay. Alsooo, you dont HAAAVE to read part one, but its probably best you do. Anyways, enjoy!
Chapter 1
Jack wakes with a slight groan into his pillow as soft, morning light dances across his face. His muscles tense for a moment before he rolls onto his back and sits up, stretching his arms above his head. He takes a moment to process being awake and then grabs his cell on the nightstand.
A small smile grows when he sees your name in his notifications. It’s been about four months since you both decided to make it official after only three in person dates. You and Jack texted and called between those dates, getting to know each other, before you finally told him ‘Life's too short and I like you.’
Quickly tapping in his passcode, Jack opens his messages and sees you sent two more selfies. One is of you, Sam, and Dean leaning against the Impala with coffee cups; Dean looking especially tired. The second is just of you.
‘Early, early morning in Virginia. It should be the last day though I hope.’ Is what you wrote.
He's still a little confused about your work; you've said something about mechanics and researchers but he never really presses since it's clear you can't tell him. He almost wonders if you work for the government because of the secrecy. Jack saves both pictures to his phone–like he does with all your selfies–before lifting his phone to take his own selfie. He still isn't sure what his best angle is but he knows you'll like it regardless.
‘Coming to Pittsburgh?’ He types out and sends.
Almost immediately hearts fill his screen and he laughs.
‘I'm trying to talk Dean and Sam into dropping me off but they don't want to drive the extra 6 hours :(. Maybe Castiel will.’
Jack hums and rubs his face with one hand as he slowly types out his response with thumb. ‘If not, there is always a next time.’
Despite the long distance–you either in Lebanon, Kansas or Sioux Falls and him in Pittsburgh–you both make it work and it always seems like Castiel can get you to Pittsburgh whenever you both want to meet up for a weekend. Jack's half tempted to set aside a couple of hundreds for the man that helps him see his partner as frequently as he does. He offers to come to you but the two brothers don't want anyone finding out where they live (another possible key to you three being a part of some secret government program) and has only been to Bobby's place twice. You always want to come see him. If that's to get away from your family–who he thinks are a bit overbearing when it comes to you being in a relationship–he's fine with it.
Jack gets out of bed slowly, making sure to slip on his silicon gel pad correctly before he attaches his prosthetic. He doesn’t work tonight and doesn't have any set-in-stone plans, so he wanders into his kitchen in just his sleep shorts. He feels his phone buzz in his pocket and he pulls it out after getting his coffee pot ready and going.
‘Send me another picture, I'm bored with Squirrel and Moosey here.’
He chuckles at the nicknames you use for Dean and Sam. He takes a second before raising his phone up and then tilted slightly downwards, getting a great angle of his face and his body. He snaps the picture and sends it to you quickly. He is half surprised he doesn't get a quick response from you. He sets his phone down and pours himself a cup of black coffee after his pot dings.
His phone starts buzzing and it's an incoming call from you. It takes him a few seconds to answer and as soon as he does he hears your voice.
“Jack Abbot, are you trying to kill me?” You hiss but your voice sounds delighted too. It makes him chuckle into the phone. “Yeah, laugh it up. I was in a very important meeting, drinking water, and almost choked when I saw what you sent.”
“Did you like it though?” He murmurs and raises his mug to his lips, blowing gently on the dark liquid before taking a sip. “I thought it was one of my better ones.”
“It’s amazing and I will be making it my new homescreen. Thank you very much.”
“Glad you like it, Trouble. I can send more to you if you like.”
“Very much I would like more, but maybe later so I don’t make a fool of myself again.”
“Noted.” Jack chuckles again and wanders over to his couch to sit down. “If you can get here, when do you think you can come in?”
“We hope to finish up today. But if not, tomorrow. You work tomorrow night?”
“Nope. Two nights off in a row, lucky me.”
“Perfect. I was thinking of staying a couple days if that’s alright with you?”
“Always, Trouble.”
“Then it’s set–Oh shoot, okay.” It sounds like you were cut off by who he assumes is Sam or Dean. “I got to go, Doc. Don’t have too much fun without me.”
“Never, Trouble.” He grins into the phone.
“Mwuah.”
“Still not doing that back.”
“You’re no fun, gramps.” He can practically see the pout and the smile you’re trying not to let slip before you hang up the phone. He takes a longer sip of his coffee and glances around his place.
“Guess I could get tidied up, just in case.” Jack mumbles to himself. He doesn’t get up right away, choosing to just lounge a bit. A little smirk appears on his face before he decides to send you another picture at the same angle, making sure to get his lap in the picture as well. He sends it to you and instantly you’re blowing up his phone again.
It is a little after seven in the evening when Jack gets a text from Robby asking if he wants to come get drinks with him and a few others from The Pitt. Not receiving a text from you in a while, he assumes you won’t make it. He shrugs on his old leather jacket and grabs his wallet and keys from his kitchen counter. Clicking off the lights, he opens his apartment door and freezes.
You're standing there with your fist raised as if you were about to knock. You both look stunned for a moment before a smile breaks out on your face.
“Surprise, Doc. I made it tonight thanks to Cas.” Your eyes dart down his form and then back to his face. “Going out? Sorry, I spaced texting that I could make it. I can stay here if you-”
“No, no. It’s okay. Come in.” He gestures for you to come inside and takes your duffle from you. “Yeah, Robby invited me out after his shift but I can stay in–What happened to your lip?” His eyes finally narrow in on your face once his surprise wears off and he can see a fresh cut through your upper lip and a bruise forming on your cheek.
“It’s not a big deal.” You brush him off but he sets your bag on the floor and cups your jaw oh so gently, tilting your head enough to get a good look. His thumb brushes over the discolored skin, his eyes squinting as he assesses the damage. “I’m fine, Jack. No headache, no dizziness, no motion sickness or aversion to lights. I’m not delicate.”
“Doesn’t mean I can’t worry about you.” He murmurs, his eyes lingering on your face a little longer before his arms wrap around your body. He holds you tightly against his body and he can feel you returning the gesture. He'll have to spend the night looking over your body for any extra wounds–he pushes that thought away so he doesn't get too worked up yet.
“Thank you for worrying, but I promise. I’m fine.” He feels you gently rub his back and lean your head against his.
Jack pulls back with a little huff to kiss your forehead. “I’ll drop it for now even if it bugs me a little. I’m just glad to see you again…”
“Maybe I can finally get to meet your friends from work tonight?” You tilt your head and bat your lashes his way.
“With those wounds and what you texted this morning, I assumed you’d be too tired.”
“Hey, if I wasn’t here with you I’d be in a bar with Dean and Sammy. I’ve been wanting to formally meet Dana and Robby.”
Jack laughs softly, “And they've been begging to meet you. C'mon, it's a short walk to the bar we like.”
After you both leave his apartment and lock up, Jack loops your arm with his and guides you out of his building. He was right, it was a short walk to end up in a bar that definitely fits a ‘dive bar aesthetic.’ You chuckle and make a comment about how Dean would like a place like this. Thankfully with no game on tonight, the bar isn't too packed or too loud. His hand finds its usual spot on your lower back as you both move through the establishment until he spots Robby, Dana, Whittaker, and McKay sitting at a round table in the corner. Their heads all turned and faced them both, looks of surprise and smiles appeared.
“Why isn’t the poor soul who said yes to Abbot.” Robby teases as you both sit down at the table.
“Hey, they were the one to ask me out.” Jack chuckles and immediately wraps his arm around over the back of your chair. His fingers touch your skin and his thumb brushes over the bottom of the handprint scar there.
“We're so happy to meet you. Jack never shuts up about you.” Dana says, placing her hand on her chest while her other one reaches out to shake yours. You’re eager to accept and introduce yourself to the others promptly and very quickly, you get along with the others.
———
Jack and you practically tumble back into his apartment, lips locked together as his hands find your hips. Neither of you drank much other than a beer or two but the distance and build up always makes you hungry for one another. His hand touching your arm or resting on your lap, inching tantalizingly close but never really reaching there, throughout the night really made the anticipation grow between you both.
His bedroom door slams open and he isn’t bothered to check if the doorknob dented the wall. Instead, Jack’s guiding you to his bed and falling on top of you when your back hits the comforter. His fingers easily get your pants unbuttoned while you grip at his shirt and hair.
“Fuck, I missed you, Trouble.” He murmurs against your lips before lifting himself up enough to shrug off his coat and pull off his shirt. He helps you get your own clothes off quickly along with the rest of his. Your body is always a sight to behold for him and he can’t help but stare you over every time you’re with him, even when you whine for him to touch you. He takes note of every little scar–old and new–and that tattoo on your chest each time.
Jack likes to tease you, take his time working you up until you get frustrated and take what you want.
Just like now. His fingers tease where you ache for him most. His lips and tongue work over your chest and neck all while you squirm.
“You think you’re ready for me?” His voice is husky as he licks over your nipple, his fingers slowly working you open for him. “I don’t know if you are ready.”
“Jack, stop teasing.” You mumble and give him the look that tells him you’re getting frustrated. Good.
“Nah.” He grins against your skin and slows his fingers down.
“Jack.” Next thing he knew you’ve managed to get your leg around his hip and then flip you both over with ease that always takes him by surprise. You’re now perched on top of him while he stares up at you, wide-eyed and with a smile. He’s right where he wants to be.
You huff softly and reach over to his night stand, yanking open the drawer. You fill around until you pull out one of his condoms. “Put it on or I will.”
“I kind of want you to.” His smile widens when you immediately tear open the aluminum wrapper. Already pre-lubed, you slide the condom over his cock with ease before gripping the base.
Jack watches in awe as you raise your hips and slowly take him with a relieved moan. His hands find purchase on your hips as you start to move in earnest. It’s a quick fuck but God does it feel amazing. He watches you move with hooded eyes and his mouth slightly agape. He doesn’t control your movements, letting you set the pace and chase your own pleasure. Your hands grip his wrists as you rock your hips while tilting your head back.
“That's it. You feel amazing.” He rasps with a low moan of his own. He feels you start to move faster before you take your hands off his wrists and splay them out over his chest. Your fingers curl in and squeeze his pecs, your nails digging into his flesh. He loves it.
“Jack…” There it is. That soft whimper of his name as your head tilts forward, your brows scrunched and your eyes squeezed shut. “Jack-!”
You gasp and tighten around his length. He grunts before his soft moans leave his lips as he comes. He can feel himself filling the condom as you sloppily rock your hips for a few more seconds before stopping. You're both panting and you slowly drape yourself over him, not caring about the mess you left on his pubic area.
Jack wraps his arms tightly around your sweaty frame and kisses the top of your head, breathing in your scent as you both come down from your mutual highs. He feels your hot breath against his skin and it brings him an odd sense of comfort. Jack's hands caress your back while you push up and hover over him with that breathtaking, sated smile of yours.
“I missed you.” You coo softly and lean back down for a sensual kiss.
“I missed you too.” He mumbles against your lips before kissing you back.
—–—
The light from the window wakes him up once more but this time he isn’t alone. He feels your arm around his middle–hand splayed out over his chest–with your face pressed between his shoulder blades. He lets out a soft sigh and he feels you shift behind him. A smile appears on his face when he hears you grumble a soft good morning and lift your head to rest your chin on his shoulder.
“Sleep well?” You mumble, kissing his shoulder before playfully biting it. He chuckles softly and shifts a little as a little warning. You move away as he rolls onto his back and immediately you're draping yourself over him.
“Slept very well with you here.” He smiles softly, tracing your spine gently with his fingertips. He lets out a content sigh as he looks you over; the sleep still clinging to your face, his covers draped over your nude body, the faint marks he left on your neck and shoulders. “How are you feeling?”
“Like a million bucks, Doc.” Your grin makes his smile widen. You always respond that way the morning after and it still hasn't gotten old. You press your cheek against his chest and your expression falls into something wistful.
“Something on your mind, Trouble?”
“Have I ever told you the story of my parents?”
“Not in detail, but you don't have to.”
“I…I want to. Especially after all you told me about Maria and what happened overseas.” He swallows thickly when you mention his late wife.
“I didn't tell you that stuff to make you share your trauma, you know? I hope I didn't make you feel that you have-”
“No, Jack, I want to. I want you to know.” You take a few seconds to speak and he lets you have all the time you need. “It was a rainy night in November. My family and I were in North Dakota at the time and we got back from a fun day at the theaters and mall. I got new hotwheels and a polly pocket. Man, I loved those things.” You chuckle softly and it makes Jack smile fondly.
You continue, “I could tell something was wrong. My parents were on edge, whispering about something. My dad called someone and my mom promptly took me to bed, so I don’t know who he called or about what. I think I was asleep for a good two hours before a strange man shook me awake. He dragged me from my hair from my bed and downstairs to the living room. My parents were pretty hurt–tied to the dining room chairs. I was tied up in front of them and…and he made me watch what he did.”
Jack feels your hot tears land on his chest and he hugs you closer, his hand rubbing comforting circles. He can feel his own tears in his eyes form and bile rise in his throat at what you went through as a child.
“It was so cruel what he did. I begged him to stop but then he hit me hard enough to knock me out. That's how I got my scar in my hairline. I woke up…my parents were barely clinging on and that's when he ki-” You suck in a shaky breath and exhale slowly. “That's when he killed them. He was about to kill me and that's when Bobby and John Winchester broke in. Must have spooked the guy so bad to see two men barreling at him with weapons because he just…left. He's never been caught.”
Jack murmurs your name softly and helps pull you up his body so he can tuck your head against his neck. “I…Fuck, I am so sorry you went through that. No child should go through that.”
“Thank you…I wish John or Bobby coulda killed that demon. I hate knowing he's still out there.” They way you said demon sounded like you truly believed that man was one, and to Jack, he was. “That's when Bobby took me in. It took some time but he adopted me. John had his hands full raising Sam and Dean after his wife was killed. Bobby never wanted kids–he was afraid of ending up like his piece of shit dad–but he is the best damn father a person could wish for.”
“He's great. Always nice to me.”
“That's because I threatened him.” You sniffle then laugh against his neck before kissing his neck. “You know, when I first brought you to his house he was going to leave his shotgun out on the table as a warning.”
Jack chuckles. “Yeah, I could see that.”
You hum softly before propping yourself up, looking down at him with a soft smile. He can see the remnants of tears on your cheeks, your eyes slightly red and glossy. There is still some sadness in your gaze but it's clear to him you're not wanting things to linger on this conversation. “I'm going to use the bathroom and then get dressed. We should go get some breakfast at that diner I like.”
“Sounds good, Trouble…And I just wanted to say thank you for sharing that with me and trusting me with it. You didn't have to and it…it means a lot to me that you trust me enough.”
“Of course.” You smile, though he can see an almost sad shift in your eyes before you lean down and give him a quick kiss. You nip his bottom lip and pull away, getting up out of bed. Jack can't help but shamelessly watch you leave the bedroom–likely to your bag still in the front first–before he slowly gets up himself. He slips on his gel pad and digs into his nightstand for a clean pair of briefs. He gets himself covered and gets his prosthetic back on, taking a moment to stretch himself. He licks his lips and decides to mosey out of his bedroom for a glass of water.
Jack scratches the back of the head and then halts.
You're kneeling–wide eyed– with one hand under his kitchen sink and the other clutching black pouch.
He tilts his head to the side, raising a brow while folding his arms over his chest. “What are you doing there, Trouble?”
“Don't laugh or judge me.” You sheepishly smile and pull your hand out from under his sink. You close the door and stand up, walking towards him still holding the bag.
“You know I won't.”
“So, you know I am superstitious and I just wanted to make sure you're safe from stuff here at your apartment when I can’t be around.” You hold up the small black pouch in your hand to show him it. “My friend Rowena is a witch and she made me these protection hex bags.”
“Okay.” All he does is raise a brow and shrug his shoulders as he meets the distance to stand in front of you.
“Just…okay?”
“If it gives you peace of mind, I don’t mind.” He then chuckles as he places his hands on your shoulders, giving them a soft squeeze. “Do I think it's a little strange? Yes, a little. But, I trust and respect you and your beliefs.”
You let out a sigh and then smile. “Then I can give you these too.” You move away from and to your bag, rummaging around while setting down the hex bag. It takes a few seconds before you're standing up and walking over to him. You hand him a beaded bracelet and a necklace made with a leather cord, both adorned with silver charms that match the tattoo on your chest.
“I take it these are for protection too?”
“In a sense. Wear them and they will keep you safe.” He stares at the two pieces of simple pieces of jewelry as you look around his apartment to place the last hex bag. To many people these things would be strange. Hell, even he is a little perplexed. But these things are just a part of you and he loves them. He slips on the bracelet and necklace without any hesitation as you finish hiding the last bag.
His eyes follow your form as you grab fresh clothes from your bag. “C'mon, go get dressed, Jack. I want those pancakes.”
He laughs and shakes his head before complying.
———
Jack is leaning against the wall outside the ambulance bay when he gets a call from you. It was one of the days he worked the day shift to give Robby a day off. He brings the phone up to his ear, already grinning to talk to you.
“Hey, Trouble.” He murmurs into his cell the way you like him to.
“Hey, Dr. Sexy.” You reply back with a chuckle.
“Need something or did you just want to hear my voice?”
“A little bit of column A, a little bit of column B.”
“Well tell me what you need then.”
“It's sort of a last minute request but…” Your voice trails off before continuing. “Next weekend is comic con in Pittsburgh and I was wondering if you'd be able to let my friend Charlie and I stay at your place between Friday and Monday? We even have a third ticket if you want to come with us.”
“Comic Con?” He laughs softly. “Didn't know you'd be into going to those.”
“What can I say? I love a good sci-fi series like Stargate.”
“Now that's a movie I haven't seen in a while.” He hums and takes a few moments to recount next week's schedule. “I think I work days on Friday and Sunday, but I should be free Saturday. And also yes, of course, you and your friend can stay.”
“Awesome, thank you so much.” Jack can hear the excitement in your voice and it makes him smile. “Have I ever mentioned I love you?”
He nearly chokes on air. “I think that's the first you've told me that, sweetheart. I love you too.”
“Good, I was thinking it may be too soon to say that but like you know: life is short blah, blah, blah, and you're the first person to really treat me this nice. Oh great, I'm getting teary eyed.”
“That's very sweet, Trouble.” He can't help the smile that grows on his lips as he hears you sniffle softly on the other side of the phone. “And I feel the same about you, okay? The people I dated sporadically after Maria have been next to nothing compared to you.”
“Stop, I'm gonna really start to cry and then Dean will tease the shit out of me.” His heart warms and his face softens at the genuine emotions in your voice. “But yeah, love you, Jack Abbot.”
“Love you too. I gotta get back in, but don’t hesitate to text me.”
“Save lives, Doc.”
Jack spent the week waiting for your visit with anticipation, both to see you and meet Charlie; someone you've only mentioned twice before. He is at work Friday and you've been texting him about coming thanks to Castiel (and once again, he is reminded he needs to set aside money for that man.) He glances at his watch and is thankful to see it's 6:43pm. He's about to take a brief moment to check his phone when Lupe comes in calling his name.
“Dr. Abbot, you have visitors.” She smiles at him and turns around right as you, Castiel, and a redheaded woman come into view. You and who he assumes is Charlie are holding duffle bags.
“Sorry for dropping in here but you still haven't made a copy of your key for me.” You grin as he blinks away his surprise. He can hear Dana chuckle behind him as he walks up to you and gives you a soft kiss on the forehead. “We can wait in the breakroom until your shift is up.”
“Yeah, yeah. Of course. Sorry, I should have made that for you by now.” He murmurs and cups your jaw. He can see a healing cut on your brow but says nothing about it. You must have seen the way his jaw clenches because you turn your head and kiss his palm. “C'mon, let's get you guys in the breakroom before another trauma inevitably comes in.”
To his surprise, the last fifteen minutes went smoothly for a shift in The Pitt and it only took an extra few minutes to brief Shen on all the people that will be staying in the ED before he grabbed his stuff from his locker. When he gets to the staff break room and pushes open the door, he smiles at the sight of you, Charlie, and Dana laughing loudly while Castiel looks perplexed between the three of you.
“You guys ready to go?” Jack asks, amused at the giggles and sideways glances you lot are giving him. Everyone says their goodbyes and he leads everyone to his truck. “Are you going to the convention too, Cas?”
“No. Dean and Sam require me back home. I just wanted to make sure they got to you safely.” Castiel nods, gives Charlie and you a nod, before he starts walking off in a random direction. Jack blinks but shakes his head, unlocking his truck for you both. The drive to his apartment was filled with excited talk about all you both want to see tomorrow, and while comic con may not be his thing, Jack finds himself excited too because you are.
When Saturday rolls around, he smiles at the cosplays you and Charlie are in. She's dressed up as a character from Star Trek while you are dressed as your favorite character from your favorite show. Not having anything, Jack just opts to go as himself but you and Charlie insist he wears a pair of elf ears you brought along.
“I'm so glad you came with us today. Sucks you can't make it tomorrow though, they have some good panels with voice actors tomorrow.” You grin as you both follow Charlie into the convention hall. The amount of people dressed up and clearly excited to be around others with similar interests make him smile, but really gets his heart fluttering is that same look on your face: the excitement, the happiness, and how you're pointing out different cosplays or booths to him as you three start to move through the artist hall. He laughs when you get excited and stop at a booth, buying a trinket or two before going off to the next one.
The crowd is vast and he can’t help but keep himself close to you, even slipping his hand in yours. He was used to chaos, but sometimes a crowd can be too much for his nerves. You look back over your shoulder and smile with a little squeeze of his hand. You're too good at reading him sometimes.
“Need to get out of here for a little bit?” You ask him as you guys get closer to one of the many doorways.
“I don't want to take you from this, Trouble.” He replies back but you're already tapping Charlie's shoulder.
“Hey, wanna step out of the hall for a bit?”
“Oh, totally. I'm sweating my ass off.” She laughs and helps guide you and Jack to one of the various open doors. “Plus, I saw they had an Avatar Last Airbender panel happening in 15 minutes anyways. I don't want to miss that.”
The three of you get out of the artist hall and while the rest of the convention is still crawling with people, Jack’s nerves settle enough to not feel on edge. Your little group heads over to the rooms they have set up for various panels, wanting to get in line early for decent seats. He watches with a smile as two younger people come up to gush about and compliment the costumes you and Charlie are wearing.
Jack decides to walk around in the area while you both talk with the others in line to stretch his legs a bit. He hears a commotion of excitement from one of the rooms and decides to take a peek inside.
The first thing Jack notices is how many of the people in this small conference room are dressed eerily similar to Sam and Dean…he even spots a few people that look like they are trying to be Bobby?
“The hell…” He mumbles to himself, his eyes focusing on the big banner with the word ‘Supernatural’ on it. His brows scrunch and he is almost tempted to take a step into that room when he feels your hand on his arm.
“They're opening up the doors early. C'mon, Jack.” Your voice is soft as you pull him back to where Charlie is waiting in line, breaking his line of sight in that room and leaving him with more questions.
———
It's one of those rare times where he took four days off in a row, so Jack and you decide to stay at Bobby's. Since Dean still won’t let him go to what you call ‘the bunker,’ all of his visits to one of your places have been in Sioux Falls. He doesn’t know what to do to earn that man’s trust. He gets along great with Castiel and Sam, and Charlie considers him one of her BFFs. Hell, him and Bobby get beers and shoot the shit whenever he’s able to come to Sioux Falls or whenever you rope Bobby into coming to Pittsburgh for a weekend. And yet, he and Dean can't seem to connect.
He's sitting at Bobby's small table, sipping on some fresh orange juice you bought while making breakfast. He tries not to eye the slight mess on the table that was clearly pushed to the side by the computer. The various phones and the books on the supernatural definitely caught his attention, but he doesn’t know what to say about anything.
‘What can I say? We're just a bunch of superstitious folk.’ Bobby told him once when he asked about the book on Demons left open on the desk in the living room. There were worse things than conspiracies and those who believe in things that aren't real, right?
Jack peels his eyes off and his gaze softens when he watches you finish plating breakfast. You walk over carrying a large plate of pancakes and another plate with sausage and fried eggs. There is probably enough to feed the town but he knows Bobby and himself will probably clear it all out.
“I wish you would let me help.” He chuckles when you smack his hand away. You place the perfect amount of pancakes, sausage, and eggs for him on his plate before placing some on Bobby's plate, then yours.
“You're our guest, Jack.” You hum and sit across from him. “Besides, Bobby's been whining for me to cook for him again. Speaking of the old man, he needs to finish up his shower.”
“I won’t tell him you said that.” He chuckles as he pours syrup over his pancakes.
Slam!
Jack flinches at the sound of the front door slamming open. He shifts to get up but you’re already on your feet with an oddly shaped, silver knife in your hand. Where did you get that? You’re completely on edge with a look on your face he’s never seen before.
“Bobby! Bobby Singer!” A male’s voice shouts out and suddenly there is a strange man in the doorway of the kitchen. He’s a tall (not as tall as Sam), older, black man wearing a dirty jacket over a blue flannel shirt. You visibly relax and let out an almost disgruntled sigh, the knife no longer poised for defense.
“Rufus-” You groan but he cuts you off.
“Oh good, Singer Junior is here. I need your help, kid.”
“Rufus-”
“Look, I was out last night hunting and I got into some trouble. I need your help hiding-”
“Rufus!” Your shout finally gets the man to shut his mouth.
“Don’t raise your voice at me. What?”
“Bobby and I have company.” You gesture over to Jack, who looks awkwardly between you both.
“Uh, hello.”
“Who is this?” Rufus squints his eyes as he looks over Jack–analyzing him almost–before looking back to you.
“Jack. My boyfriend.” You then turn to him with a tired smile and gesture to the man. “Jack, this is Rufus. He’s sort of like an uncle to me.”
“Sort of? I helped raise you and teach you. I am an uncle to you.” He swings an arm around your shoulders right as footsteps come down the stairs.
“What the hell is all that racket- Oh, Rufus. You’re here.” Bobby’s expression deadpans as he sees the man.
“I need your help with hiding-” Rufus’ eyes look back at Jack for a second before going back to Bobby’s. “Hidding here. I stayed out hunting all night and the car is a mess. The wife will be angry. Can you help?”
Bobby sighs, rubbing his face. “Yeah, yeah, idjit. Let me grab my plate. You’re doin’ most of the work.” He gives your shoulder a squeeze and gives Jack an apologetic look as he grabs the plate you made him, before walking out with Rufus.
“Sorry about that. He’s…escentric. Love him, but he’s a lot sometimes.” You sit down across from again, the blade in your hand seemingly tucked under the table once more. There isn’t much else said and it’s clear you’re lost in thought for a moment as you pick at the food you’ve made.
Jack reaches over and covers your free hand with his. “Why don’t you and I go to that used book store you’ve been telling me about? Make a date out of today while Bobby and Rufus do what they’re doing.”
You smile softly, “That sounds like a great idea.”
———
Jack’s worried.
You haven’t texted or called in a few days. He tries not to be overly clingy since your life sounds hectic enough. But you both have a routine. If you can't text through the day, you always send him something; even if it is a simple goodnight or a selfie you always make sure to reach out to him. He’s not sure if he should contact one of the Winchesters, Castiel, or Bobby…
No, they would contact him if something had happened to you.
He got through his shift and with the Pitt being the Pitt, Jack was thoroughly distracted with trauma after trauma. And when he’s finally free, after parking his truck in the parking garage, he can’t help but pull his phone out.
No messages.
‘Fuck.’ He hates the feeling of dread, how his heart sinks into his stomach. Couples didn’t have to message everyday, yet you always did. He shoves his phone back into his pocket and hops out of his truck, locking it afterwards. He stalks into the build and takes the elevator up to his floor, hoping to feel his phone vibrate throughout that time.
It wasn’t until Jack reached his door–keys in the lock–when he heard the flutter of wings down the hall. He turns his head to the right and nearly drops his keys when he sees you rounding the corner with Castiel. It’s clear that you’ve been crying. Your eyes are bloodshot and slightly puffy, and once again, you’re sporting bruises and cuts on your face. Jack says nothing at first as he rushes to meet you half way and gather you into a tight hug.
“Fuck, baby, I was worried about you.” He murmurs against your head before kissing the top of it. Jack glances up to Cas and sees he has a troubled look on his face. “What’s the matter, Trouble? Hmm? What’s wrong?”
“Dean…Dean and I got into a huge fight.” You all but whimper as you cling to him. “I…I think he kicked me out? He told me not to come back.”
“He kicked you out?” His brows furrow and the sudden rush of anger he feels has him briefly tighten his hold on you. “You can stay here for however long you need. Move in. I got you.”
You nod and pull back with a sniffle. “I'd like that.” You take in a shaky, deep breath and exhale slowly through your nose. “I think I need to lay down right now. With everything that's happened…”
“Of course, sweetheart. You go and get comfortable, and I will get you whatever you need.” Jack lets you pull away. He watches you quickly head into his apartment while a loud sniffle leaves you, making his heart clench. He's about to follow you when Castiel calling his name stops him.
“Can we speak for a moment?” Castiel murmurs and Jack obliges him, walking closer to the man. “Please, take care of them. Tonight was…rough.”
“What even happened to warrant getting kicked out?”
“I'm not sure how much I can say. I think it's best for them to tell you. Dean cares deeply about family and loyalty, and they wanted to,” Cas pauses, his eyes searching for something as if he is trying to think of the right words, “leave the family business.”
“Oh…” Jack isn't even sure how to help when he doesn't know what you even did for whatever the family business is. But, he does know he will be there for you.
“You are a good human, Jack. Thank you for the kindness and the love you've shown my friend.” Castiel manages a small smile before he turns around and walks down the hall.
“Cas-” But Castiel has already turned the corner. Jack isn't even tempted to follow him and instead goes into his apartment, locking the door behind him. He enters his bedroom and sees you sitting on his bed–wearing his shirt and sleep shorts–and looking almost lost.
Your head perks up when you see him and he tries to offer you a comforting smile. He takes a moment to get out of his work clothes and into something similar to what you're wearing. He flops on the bed dramatically, making you weakly laugh. He lays next to you and wraps his arm around your waist, pressing his face against your hip.
“You don't have to tell me what happened, but I'm here for you always.” He murmurs and peers up at you. He feels you shift and lets go of his hold so you can turn off his nightstand lamp and then lay next to him.
“I want to quit working. Dean didn't take that well. He's already been on my ass because I've been distracted about that and almost got Sammy hurt on the job.” You sigh and curl up against Jack. “And when I told him I wanted to retire he brought you up.”
“Me?”
“Yeah. He thinks I'm doing this because of you. Which is partially true, but this thought has always been on my mind…a normal life where I can do what everyone else does. Maybe even go to college for something. I don't know. But Dean thinks I'm choosing you over the family. He stewed on it and then gave me an ultimatum: I choose them, or I chose you. And I chose you.”
“Oh, Trouble…” He murmurs, moving as he rubs comforting circles on your back.
“I didn't even want to make that choice.” You sigh softly. “But that's just how the argument went. I…don't know what to do, all I know is I want to have a normal life and I want that life with you, even if Dean doesn't agree.”
“I hope I didn't come between you and your-”
“No, Jack, you didn't. This is just something that was bound to happen with Dean. He didn't like how my personal life started to mix with my work life. Like I said, when I first mentioned it, he stewed and then blew up on me today when things went almost terrible on a job. It's how he is.”
“Still, I don’t like that he put you through this.” He takes a deep breath, kissing the top of your head before tucking it under his chin. “Get some sleep, Trouble. I'll be here for you, always.”
“Thanks…Dr. Sexy.”
Jack snorts, “Don’t mention it.”
You hug him tightly, throwing your leg over his hip. You let out a deep sigh as you relax. He doesn’t stop rubbing your back, not even when you fall asleep. He stays up later than you, thinking over everything about you. He wonders now that you're out of whatever you were doing with the Winchesters you'll tell him what exactly it was, but he doubts it. He wants to know, but at your pace.
Jack finds his eyelids growing heavy and slowly, he falls asleep holding you close.
Content/Warning(s): crossover au, mostly from jacks POV, reader comes and visits with injuries, characters are probably OOC, reader's backstory is discussed (death/parent death, torture), John Winchester mentioned, SMUT (penetration, protected sex, jack is lowkey a brat and likes to be dominated in this lol) (I tried to be as non-specific with readers body as possible), Dean's an ass again but I love him.
Summary: A look into your relationship with Jack, and the abnormalities that follow.
A/N: Sorry this took so long, my brain is a little scrambled as of late. But I have the remaining two chapters I have planned out, I just gotta write them. It'll probably be a minute, bc I am also working on a big fic I hope to get done in May for Mermay. Alsooo, you dont HAAAVE to read part one, but its probably best you do. Anyways, enjoy!
Chapter 1
Jack wakes with a slight groan into his pillow as soft, morning light dances across his face. His muscles tense for a moment before he rolls onto his back and sits up, stretching his arms above his head. He takes a moment to process being awake and then grabs his cell on the nightstand.
A small smile grows when he sees your name in his notifications. It’s been about four months since you both decided to make it official after only three in person dates. You and Jack texted and called between those dates, getting to know each other, before you finally told him ‘Life's too short and I like you.’
Quickly tapping in his passcode, Jack opens his messages and sees you sent two more selfies. One is of you, Sam, and Dean leaning against the Impala with coffee cups; Dean looking especially tired. The second is just of you.
‘Early, early morning in Virginia. It should be the last day though I hope.’ Is what you wrote.
He's still a little confused about your work; you've said something about mechanics and researchers but he never really presses since it's clear you can't tell him. He almost wonders if you work for the government because of the secrecy. Jack saves both pictures to his phone–like he does with all your selfies–before lifting his phone to take his own selfie. He still isn't sure what his best angle is but he knows you'll like it regardless.
‘Coming to Pittsburgh?’ He types out and sends.
Almost immediately hearts fill his screen and he laughs.
‘I'm trying to talk Dean and Sam into dropping me off but they don't want to drive the extra 6 hours :(. Maybe Castiel will.’
Jack hums and rubs his face with one hand as he slowly types out his response with thumb. ‘If not, there is always a next time.’
Despite the long distance–you either in Lebanon, Kansas or Sioux Falls and him in Pittsburgh–you both make it work and it always seems like Castiel can get you to Pittsburgh whenever you both want to meet up for a weekend. Jack's half tempted to set aside a couple of hundreds for the man that helps him see his partner as frequently as he does. He offers to come to you but the two brothers don't want anyone finding out where they live (another possible key to you three being a part of some secret government program) and has only been to Bobby's place twice. You always want to come see him. If that's to get away from your family–who he thinks are a bit overbearing when it comes to you being in a relationship–he's fine with it.
Jack gets out of bed slowly, making sure to slip on his silicon gel pad correctly before he attaches his prosthetic. He doesn’t work tonight and doesn't have any set-in-stone plans, so he wanders into his kitchen in just his sleep shorts. He feels his phone buzz in his pocket and he pulls it out after getting his coffee pot ready and going.
‘Send me another picture, I'm bored with Squirrel and Moosey here.’
He chuckles at the nicknames you use for Dean and Sam. He takes a second before raising his phone up and then tilted slightly downwards, getting a great angle of his face and his body. He snaps the picture and sends it to you quickly. He is half surprised he doesn't get a quick response from you. He sets his phone down and pours himself a cup of black coffee after his pot dings.
His phone starts buzzing and it's an incoming call from you. It takes him a few seconds to answer and as soon as he does he hears your voice.
“Jack Abbot, are you trying to kill me?” You hiss but your voice sounds delighted too. It makes him chuckle into the phone. “Yeah, laugh it up. I was in a very important meeting, drinking water, and almost choked when I saw what you sent.”
“Did you like it though?” He murmurs and raises his mug to his lips, blowing gently on the dark liquid before taking a sip. “I thought it was one of my better ones.”
“It’s amazing and I will be making it my new homescreen. Thank you very much.”
“Glad you like it, Trouble. I can send more to you if you like.”
“Very much I would like more, but maybe later so I don’t make a fool of myself again.”
“Noted.” Jack chuckles again and wanders over to his couch to sit down. “If you can get here, when do you think you can come in?”
“We hope to finish up today. But if not, tomorrow. You work tomorrow night?”
“Nope. Two nights off in a row, lucky me.”
“Perfect. I was thinking of staying a couple days if that’s alright with you?”
“Always, Trouble.”
“Then it’s set–Oh shoot, okay.” It sounds like you were cut off by who he assumes is Sam or Dean. “I got to go, Doc. Don’t have too much fun without me.”
“Never, Trouble.” He grins into the phone.
“Mwuah.”
“Still not doing that back.”
“You’re no fun, gramps.” He can practically see the pout and the smile you’re trying not to let slip before you hang up the phone. He takes a longer sip of his coffee and glances around his place.
“Guess I could get tidied up, just in case.” Jack mumbles to himself. He doesn’t get up right away, choosing to just lounge a bit. A little smirk appears on his face before he decides to send you another picture at the same angle, making sure to get his lap in the picture as well. He sends it to you and instantly you’re blowing up his phone again.
It is a little after seven in the evening when Jack gets a text from Robby asking if he wants to come get drinks with him and a few others from The Pitt. Not receiving a text from you in a while, he assumes you won’t make it. He shrugs on his old leather jacket and grabs his wallet and keys from his kitchen counter. Clicking off the lights, he opens his apartment door and freezes.
You're standing there with your fist raised as if you were about to knock. You both look stunned for a moment before a smile breaks out on your face.
“Surprise, Doc. I made it tonight thanks to Cas.” Your eyes dart down his form and then back to his face. “Going out? Sorry, I spaced texting that I could make it. I can stay here if you-”
“No, no. It’s okay. Come in.” He gestures for you to come inside and takes your duffle from you. “Yeah, Robby invited me out after his shift but I can stay in–What happened to your lip?” His eyes finally narrow in on your face once his surprise wears off and he can see a fresh cut through your upper lip and a bruise forming on your cheek.
“It’s not a big deal.” You brush him off but he sets your bag on the floor and cups your jaw oh so gently, tilting your head enough to get a good look. His thumb brushes over the discolored skin, his eyes squinting as he assesses the damage. “I’m fine, Jack. No headache, no dizziness, no motion sickness or aversion to lights. I’m not delicate.”
“Doesn’t mean I can’t worry about you.” He murmurs, his eyes lingering on your face a little longer before his arms wrap around your body. He holds you tightly against his body and he can feel you returning the gesture. He'll have to spend the night looking over your body for any extra wounds–he pushes that thought away so he doesn't get too worked up yet.
“Thank you for worrying, but I promise. I’m fine.” He feels you gently rub his back and lean your head against his.
Jack pulls back with a little huff to kiss your forehead. “I’ll drop it for now even if it bugs me a little. I’m just glad to see you again…”
“Maybe I can finally get to meet your friends from work tonight?” You tilt your head and bat your lashes his way.
“With those wounds and what you texted this morning, I assumed you’d be too tired.”
“Hey, if I wasn’t here with you I’d be in a bar with Dean and Sammy. I’ve been wanting to formally meet Dana and Robby.”
Jack laughs softly, “And they've been begging to meet you. C'mon, it's a short walk to the bar we like.”
After you both leave his apartment and lock up, Jack loops your arm with his and guides you out of his building. He was right, it was a short walk to end up in a bar that definitely fits a ‘dive bar aesthetic.’ You chuckle and make a comment about how Dean would like a place like this. Thankfully with no game on tonight, the bar isn't too packed or too loud. His hand finds its usual spot on your lower back as you both move through the establishment until he spots Robby, Dana, Whittaker, and McKay sitting at a round table in the corner. Their heads all turned and faced them both, looks of surprise and smiles appeared.
“Why isn’t the poor soul who said yes to Abbot.” Robby teases as you both sit down at the table.
“Hey, they were the one to ask me out.” Jack chuckles and immediately wraps his arm around over the back of your chair. His fingers touch your skin and his thumb brushes over the bottom of the handprint scar there.
“We're so happy to meet you. Jack never shuts up about you.” Dana says, placing her hand on her chest while her other one reaches out to shake yours. You’re eager to accept and introduce yourself to the others promptly and very quickly, you get along with the others.
———
Jack and you practically tumble back into his apartment, lips locked together as his hands find your hips. Neither of you drank much other than a beer or two but the distance and build up always makes you hungry for one another. His hand touching your arm or resting on your lap, inching tantalizingly close but never really reaching there, throughout the night really made the anticipation grow between you both.
His bedroom door slams open and he isn’t bothered to check if the doorknob dented the wall. Instead, Jack’s guiding you to his bed and falling on top of you when your back hits the comforter. His fingers easily get your pants unbuttoned while you grip at his shirt and hair.
“Fuck, I missed you, Trouble.” He murmurs against your lips before lifting himself up enough to shrug off his coat and pull off his shirt. He helps you get your own clothes off quickly along with the rest of his. Your body is always a sight to behold for him and he can’t help but stare you over every time you’re with him, even when you whine for him to touch you. He takes note of every little scar–old and new–and that tattoo on your chest each time.
Jack likes to tease you, take his time working you up until you get frustrated and take what you want.
Just like now. His fingers tease where you ache for him most. His lips and tongue work over your chest and neck all while you squirm.
“You think you’re ready for me?” His voice is husky as he licks over your nipple, his fingers slowly working you open for him. “I don’t know if you are ready.”
“Jack, stop teasing.” You mumble and give him the look that tells him you’re getting frustrated. Good.
“Nah.” He grins against your skin and slows his fingers down.
“Jack.” Next thing he knew you’ve managed to get your leg around his hip and then flip you both over with ease that always takes him by surprise. You’re now perched on top of him while he stares up at you, wide-eyed and with a smile. He’s right where he wants to be.
You huff softly and reach over to his night stand, yanking open the drawer. You fill around until you pull out one of his condoms. “Put it on or I will.”
“I kind of want you to.” His smile widens when you immediately tear open the aluminum wrapper. Already pre-lubed, you slide the condom over his cock with ease before gripping the base.
Jack watches in awe as you raise your hips and slowly take him with a relieved moan. His hands find purchase on your hips as you start to move in earnest. It’s a quick fuck but God does it feel amazing. He watches you move with hooded eyes and his mouth slightly agape. He doesn’t control your movements, letting you set the pace and chase your own pleasure. Your hands grip his wrists as you rock your hips while tilting your head back.
“That's it. You feel amazing.” He rasps with a low moan of his own. He feels you start to move faster before you take your hands off his wrists and splay them out over his chest. Your fingers curl in and squeeze his pecs, your nails digging into his flesh. He loves it.
“Jack…” There it is. That soft whimper of his name as your head tilts forward, your brows scrunched and your eyes squeezed shut. “Jack-!”
You gasp and tighten around his length. He grunts before his soft moans leave his lips as he comes. He can feel himself filling the condom as you sloppily rock your hips for a few more seconds before stopping. You're both panting and you slowly drape yourself over him, not caring about the mess you left on his pubic area.
Jack wraps his arms tightly around your sweaty frame and kisses the top of your head, breathing in your scent as you both come down from your mutual highs. He feels your hot breath against his skin and it brings him an odd sense of comfort. Jack's hands caress your back while you push up and hover over him with that breathtaking, sated smile of yours.
“I missed you.” You coo softly and lean back down for a sensual kiss.
“I missed you too.” He mumbles against your lips before kissing you back.
—–—
The light from the window wakes him up once more but this time he isn’t alone. He feels your arm around his middle–hand splayed out over his chest–with your face pressed between his shoulder blades. He lets out a soft sigh and he feels you shift behind him. A smile appears on his face when he hears you grumble a soft good morning and lift your head to rest your chin on his shoulder.
“Sleep well?” You mumble, kissing his shoulder before playfully biting it. He chuckles softly and shifts a little as a little warning. You move away as he rolls onto his back and immediately you're draping yourself over him.
“Slept very well with you here.” He smiles softly, tracing your spine gently with his fingertips. He lets out a content sigh as he looks you over; the sleep still clinging to your face, his covers draped over your nude body, the faint marks he left on your neck and shoulders. “How are you feeling?”
“Like a million bucks, Doc.” Your grin makes his smile widen. You always respond that way the morning after and it still hasn't gotten old. You press your cheek against his chest and your expression falls into something wistful.
“Something on your mind, Trouble?”
“Have I ever told you the story of my parents?”
“Not in detail, but you don't have to.”
“I…I want to. Especially after all you told me about Maria and what happened overseas.” He swallows thickly when you mention his late wife.
“I didn't tell you that stuff to make you share your trauma, you know? I hope I didn't make you feel that you have-”
“No, Jack, I want to. I want you to know.” You take a few seconds to speak and he lets you have all the time you need. “It was a rainy night in November. My family and I were in North Dakota at the time and we got back from a fun day at the theaters and mall. I got new hotwheels and a polly pocket. Man, I loved those things.” You chuckle softly and it makes Jack smile fondly.
You continue, “I could tell something was wrong. My parents were on edge, whispering about something. My dad called someone and my mom promptly took me to bed, so I don’t know who he called or about what. I think I was asleep for a good two hours before a strange man shook me awake. He dragged me from my hair from my bed and downstairs to the living room. My parents were pretty hurt–tied to the dining room chairs. I was tied up in front of them and…and he made me watch what he did.”
Jack feels your hot tears land on his chest and he hugs you closer, his hand rubbing comforting circles. He can feel his own tears in his eyes form and bile rise in his throat at what you went through as a child.
“It was so cruel what he did. I begged him to stop but then he hit me hard enough to knock me out. That's how I got my scar in my hairline. I woke up…my parents were barely clinging on and that's when he ki-” You suck in a shaky breath and exhale slowly. “That's when he killed them. He was about to kill me and that's when Bobby and John Winchester broke in. Must have spooked the guy so bad to see two men barreling at him with weapons because he just…left. He's never been caught.”
Jack murmurs your name softly and helps pull you up his body so he can tuck your head against his neck. “I…Fuck, I am so sorry you went through that. No child should go through that.”
“Thank you…I wish John or Bobby coulda killed that demon. I hate knowing he's still out there.” They way you said demon sounded like you truly believed that man was one, and to Jack, he was. “That's when Bobby took me in. It took some time but he adopted me. John had his hands full raising Sam and Dean after his wife was killed. Bobby never wanted kids–he was afraid of ending up like his piece of shit dad–but he is the best damn father a person could wish for.”
“He's great. Always nice to me.”
“That's because I threatened him.” You sniffle then laugh against his neck before kissing his neck. “You know, when I first brought you to his house he was going to leave his shotgun out on the table as a warning.”
Jack chuckles. “Yeah, I could see that.”
You hum softly before propping yourself up, looking down at him with a soft smile. He can see the remnants of tears on your cheeks, your eyes slightly red and glossy. There is still some sadness in your gaze but it's clear to him you're not wanting things to linger on this conversation. “I'm going to use the bathroom and then get dressed. We should go get some breakfast at that diner I like.”
“Sounds good, Trouble…And I just wanted to say thank you for sharing that with me and trusting me with it. You didn't have to and it…it means a lot to me that you trust me enough.”
“Of course.” You smile, though he can see an almost sad shift in your eyes before you lean down and give him a quick kiss. You nip his bottom lip and pull away, getting up out of bed. Jack can't help but shamelessly watch you leave the bedroom–likely to your bag still in the front first–before he slowly gets up himself. He slips on his gel pad and digs into his nightstand for a clean pair of briefs. He gets himself covered and gets his prosthetic back on, taking a moment to stretch himself. He licks his lips and decides to mosey out of his bedroom for a glass of water.
Jack scratches the back of the head and then halts.
You're kneeling–wide eyed– with one hand under his kitchen sink and the other clutching black pouch.
He tilts his head to the side, raising a brow while folding his arms over his chest. “What are you doing there, Trouble?”
“Don't laugh or judge me.” You sheepishly smile and pull your hand out from under his sink. You close the door and stand up, walking towards him still holding the bag.
“You know I won't.”
“So, you know I am superstitious and I just wanted to make sure you're safe from stuff here at your apartment when I can’t be around.” You hold up the small black pouch in your hand to show him it. “My friend Rowena is a witch and she made me these protection hex bags.”
“Okay.” All he does is raise a brow and shrug his shoulders as he meets the distance to stand in front of you.
“Just…okay?”
“If it gives you peace of mind, I don’t mind.” He then chuckles as he places his hands on your shoulders, giving them a soft squeeze. “Do I think it's a little strange? Yes, a little. But, I trust and respect you and your beliefs.”
You let out a sigh and then smile. “Then I can give you these too.” You move away from and to your bag, rummaging around while setting down the hex bag. It takes a few seconds before you're standing up and walking over to him. You hand him a beaded bracelet and a necklace made with a leather cord, both adorned with silver charms that match the tattoo on your chest.
“I take it these are for protection too?”
“In a sense. Wear them and they will keep you safe.” He stares at the two pieces of simple pieces of jewelry as you look around his apartment to place the last hex bag. To many people these things would be strange. Hell, even he is a little perplexed. But these things are just a part of you and he loves them. He slips on the bracelet and necklace without any hesitation as you finish hiding the last bag.
His eyes follow your form as you grab fresh clothes from your bag. “C'mon, go get dressed, Jack. I want those pancakes.”
He laughs and shakes his head before complying.
———
Jack is leaning against the wall outside the ambulance bay when he gets a call from you. It was one of the days he worked the day shift to give Robby a day off. He brings the phone up to his ear, already grinning to talk to you.
“Hey, Trouble.” He murmurs into his cell the way you like him to.
“Hey, Dr. Sexy.” You reply back with a chuckle.
“Need something or did you just want to hear my voice?”
“A little bit of column A, a little bit of column B.”
“Well tell me what you need then.”
“It's sort of a last minute request but…” Your voice trails off before continuing. “Next weekend is comic con in Pittsburgh and I was wondering if you'd be able to let my friend Charlie and I stay at your place between Friday and Monday? We even have a third ticket if you want to come with us.”
“Comic Con?” He laughs softly. “Didn't know you'd be into going to those.”
“What can I say? I love a good sci-fi series like Stargate.”
“Now that's a movie I haven't seen in a while.” He hums and takes a few moments to recount next week's schedule. “I think I work days on Friday and Sunday, but I should be free Saturday. And also yes, of course, you and your friend can stay.”
“Awesome, thank you so much.” Jack can hear the excitement in your voice and it makes him smile. “Have I ever mentioned I love you?”
He nearly chokes on air. “I think that's the first you've told me that, sweetheart. I love you too.”
“Good, I was thinking it may be too soon to say that but like you know: life is short blah, blah, blah, and you're the first person to really treat me this nice. Oh great, I'm getting teary eyed.”
“That's very sweet, Trouble.” He can't help the smile that grows on his lips as he hears you sniffle softly on the other side of the phone. “And I feel the same about you, okay? The people I dated sporadically after Maria have been next to nothing compared to you.”
“Stop, I'm gonna really start to cry and then Dean will tease the shit out of me.” His heart warms and his face softens at the genuine emotions in your voice. “But yeah, love you, Jack Abbot.”
“Love you too. I gotta get back in, but don’t hesitate to text me.”
“Save lives, Doc.”
Jack spent the week waiting for your visit with anticipation, both to see you and meet Charlie; someone you've only mentioned twice before. He is at work Friday and you've been texting him about coming thanks to Castiel (and once again, he is reminded he needs to set aside money for that man.) He glances at his watch and is thankful to see it's 6:43pm. He's about to take a brief moment to check his phone when Lupe comes in calling his name.
“Dr. Abbot, you have visitors.” She smiles at him and turns around right as you, Castiel, and a redheaded woman come into view. You and who he assumes is Charlie are holding duffle bags.
“Sorry for dropping in here but you still haven't made a copy of your key for me.” You grin as he blinks away his surprise. He can hear Dana chuckle behind him as he walks up to you and gives you a soft kiss on the forehead. “We can wait in the breakroom until your shift is up.”
“Yeah, yeah. Of course. Sorry, I should have made that for you by now.” He murmurs and cups your jaw. He can see a healing cut on your brow but says nothing about it. You must have seen the way his jaw clenches because you turn your head and kiss his palm. “C'mon, let's get you guys in the breakroom before another trauma inevitably comes in.”
To his surprise, the last fifteen minutes went smoothly for a shift in The Pitt and it only took an extra few minutes to brief Shen on all the people that will be staying in the ED before he grabbed his stuff from his locker. When he gets to the staff break room and pushes open the door, he smiles at the sight of you, Charlie, and Dana laughing loudly while Castiel looks perplexed between the three of you.
“You guys ready to go?” Jack asks, amused at the giggles and sideways glances you lot are giving him. Everyone says their goodbyes and he leads everyone to his truck. “Are you going to the convention too, Cas?”
“No. Dean and Sam require me back home. I just wanted to make sure they got to you safely.” Castiel nods, gives Charlie and you a nod, before he starts walking off in a random direction. Jack blinks but shakes his head, unlocking his truck for you both. The drive to his apartment was filled with excited talk about all you both want to see tomorrow, and while comic con may not be his thing, Jack finds himself excited too because you are.
When Saturday rolls around, he smiles at the cosplays you and Charlie are in. She's dressed up as a character from Star Trek while you are dressed as your favorite character from your favorite show. Not having anything, Jack just opts to go as himself but you and Charlie insist he wears a pair of elf ears you brought along.
“I'm so glad you came with us today. Sucks you can't make it tomorrow though, they have some good panels with voice actors tomorrow.” You grin as you both follow Charlie into the convention hall. The amount of people dressed up and clearly excited to be around others with similar interests make him smile, but really gets his heart fluttering is that same look on your face: the excitement, the happiness, and how you're pointing out different cosplays or booths to him as you three start to move through the artist hall. He laughs when you get excited and stop at a booth, buying a trinket or two before going off to the next one.
The crowd is vast and he can’t help but keep himself close to you, even slipping his hand in yours. He was used to chaos, but sometimes a crowd can be too much for his nerves. You look back over your shoulder and smile with a little squeeze of his hand. You're too good at reading him sometimes.
“Need to get out of here for a little bit?” You ask him as you guys get closer to one of the many doorways.
“I don't want to take you from this, Trouble.” He replies back but you're already tapping Charlie's shoulder.
“Hey, wanna step out of the hall for a bit?”
“Oh, totally. I'm sweating my ass off.” She laughs and helps guide you and Jack to one of the various open doors. “Plus, I saw they had an Avatar Last Airbender panel happening in 15 minutes anyways. I don't want to miss that.”
The three of you get out of the artist hall and while the rest of the convention is still crawling with people, Jack’s nerves settle enough to not feel on edge. Your little group heads over to the rooms they have set up for various panels, wanting to get in line early for decent seats. He watches with a smile as two younger people come up to gush about and compliment the costumes you and Charlie are wearing.
Jack decides to walk around in the area while you both talk with the others in line to stretch his legs a bit. He hears a commotion of excitement from one of the rooms and decides to take a peek inside.
The first thing Jack notices is how many of the people in this small conference room are dressed eerily similar to Sam and Dean…he even spots a few people that look like they are trying to be Bobby?
“The hell…” He mumbles to himself, his eyes focusing on the big banner with the word ‘Supernatural’ on it. His brows scrunch and he is almost tempted to take a step into that room when he feels your hand on his arm.
“They're opening up the doors early. C'mon, Jack.” Your voice is soft as you pull him back to where Charlie is waiting in line, breaking his line of sight in that room and leaving him with more questions.
———
It's one of those rare times where he took four days off in a row, so Jack and you decide to stay at Bobby's. Since Dean still won’t let him go to what you call ‘the bunker,’ all of his visits to one of your places have been in Sioux Falls. He doesn’t know what to do to earn that man’s trust. He gets along great with Castiel and Sam, and Charlie considers him one of her BFFs. Hell, him and Bobby get beers and shoot the shit whenever he’s able to come to Sioux Falls or whenever you rope Bobby into coming to Pittsburgh for a weekend. And yet, he and Dean can't seem to connect.
He's sitting at Bobby's small table, sipping on some fresh orange juice you bought while making breakfast. He tries not to eye the slight mess on the table that was clearly pushed to the side by the computer. The various phones and the books on the supernatural definitely caught his attention, but he doesn’t know what to say about anything.
‘What can I say? We're just a bunch of superstitious folk.’ Bobby told him once when he asked about the book on Demons left open on the desk in the living room. There were worse things than conspiracies and those who believe in things that aren't real, right?
Jack peels his eyes off and his gaze softens when he watches you finish plating breakfast. You walk over carrying a large plate of pancakes and another plate with sausage and fried eggs. There is probably enough to feed the town but he knows Bobby and himself will probably clear it all out.
“I wish you would let me help.” He chuckles when you smack his hand away. You place the perfect amount of pancakes, sausage, and eggs for him on his plate before placing some on Bobby's plate, then yours.
“You're our guest, Jack.” You hum and sit across from him. “Besides, Bobby's been whining for me to cook for him again. Speaking of the old man, he needs to finish up his shower.”
“I won’t tell him you said that.” He chuckles as he pours syrup over his pancakes.
Slam!
Jack flinches at the sound of the front door slamming open. He shifts to get up but you’re already on your feet with an oddly shaped, silver knife in your hand. Where did you get that? You’re completely on edge with a look on your face he’s never seen before.
“Bobby! Bobby Singer!” A male’s voice shouts out and suddenly there is a strange man in the doorway of the kitchen. He’s a tall (not as tall as Sam), older, black man wearing a dirty jacket over a blue flannel shirt. You visibly relax and let out an almost disgruntled sigh, the knife no longer poised for defense.
“Rufus-” You groan but he cuts you off.
“Oh good, Singer Junior is here. I need your help, kid.”
“Rufus-”
“Look, I was out last night hunting and I got into some trouble. I need your help hiding-”
“Rufus!” Your shout finally gets the man to shut his mouth.
“Don’t raise your voice at me. What?”
“Bobby and I have company.” You gesture over to Jack, who looks awkwardly between you both.
“Uh, hello.”
“Who is this?” Rufus squints his eyes as he looks over Jack–analyzing him almost–before looking back to you.
“Jack. My boyfriend.” You then turn to him with a tired smile and gesture to the man. “Jack, this is Rufus. He’s sort of like an uncle to me.”
“Sort of? I helped raise you and teach you. I am an uncle to you.” He swings an arm around your shoulders right as footsteps come down the stairs.
“What the hell is all that racket- Oh, Rufus. You’re here.” Bobby’s expression deadpans as he sees the man.
“I need your help with hiding-” Rufus’ eyes look back at Jack for a second before going back to Bobby’s. “Hidding here. I stayed out hunting all night and the car is a mess. The wife will be angry. Can you help?”
Bobby sighs, rubbing his face. “Yeah, yeah, idjit. Let me grab my plate. You’re doin’ most of the work.” He gives your shoulder a squeeze and gives Jack an apologetic look as he grabs the plate you made him, before walking out with Rufus.
“Sorry about that. He’s…escentric. Love him, but he’s a lot sometimes.” You sit down across from again, the blade in your hand seemingly tucked under the table once more. There isn’t much else said and it’s clear you’re lost in thought for a moment as you pick at the food you’ve made.
Jack reaches over and covers your free hand with his. “Why don’t you and I go to that used book store you’ve been telling me about? Make a date out of today while Bobby and Rufus do what they’re doing.”
You smile softly, “That sounds like a great idea.”
———
Jack’s worried.
You haven’t texted or called in a few days. He tries not to be overly clingy since your life sounds hectic enough. But you both have a routine. If you can't text through the day, you always send him something; even if it is a simple goodnight or a selfie you always make sure to reach out to him. He’s not sure if he should contact one of the Winchesters, Castiel, or Bobby…
No, they would contact him if something had happened to you.
He got through his shift and with the Pitt being the Pitt, Jack was thoroughly distracted with trauma after trauma. And when he’s finally free, after parking his truck in the parking garage, he can’t help but pull his phone out.
No messages.
‘Fuck.’ He hates the feeling of dread, how his heart sinks into his stomach. Couples didn’t have to message everyday, yet you always did. He shoves his phone back into his pocket and hops out of his truck, locking it afterwards. He stalks into the build and takes the elevator up to his floor, hoping to feel his phone vibrate throughout that time.
It wasn’t until Jack reached his door–keys in the lock–when he heard the flutter of wings down the hall. He turns his head to the right and nearly drops his keys when he sees you rounding the corner with Castiel. It’s clear that you’ve been crying. Your eyes are bloodshot and slightly puffy, and once again, you’re sporting bruises and cuts on your face. Jack says nothing at first as he rushes to meet you half way and gather you into a tight hug.
“Fuck, baby, I was worried about you.” He murmurs against your head before kissing the top of it. Jack glances up to Cas and sees he has a troubled look on his face. “What’s the matter, Trouble? Hmm? What’s wrong?”
“Dean…Dean and I got into a huge fight.” You all but whimper as you cling to him. “I…I think he kicked me out? He told me not to come back.”
“He kicked you out?” His brows furrow and the sudden rush of anger he feels has him briefly tighten his hold on you. “You can stay here for however long you need. Move in. I got you.”
You nod and pull back with a sniffle. “I'd like that.” You take in a shaky, deep breath and exhale slowly through your nose. “I think I need to lay down right now. With everything that's happened…”
“Of course, sweetheart. You go and get comfortable, and I will get you whatever you need.” Jack lets you pull away. He watches you quickly head into his apartment while a loud sniffle leaves you, making his heart clench. He's about to follow you when Castiel calling his name stops him.
“Can we speak for a moment?” Castiel murmurs and Jack obliges him, walking closer to the man. “Please, take care of them. Tonight was…rough.”
“What even happened to warrant getting kicked out?”
“I'm not sure how much I can say. I think it's best for them to tell you. Dean cares deeply about family and loyalty, and they wanted to,” Cas pauses, his eyes searching for something as if he is trying to think of the right words, “leave the family business.”
“Oh…” Jack isn't even sure how to help when he doesn't know what you even did for whatever the family business is. But, he does know he will be there for you.
“You are a good human, Jack. Thank you for the kindness and the love you've shown my friend.” Castiel manages a small smile before he turns around and walks down the hall.
“Cas-” But Castiel has already turned the corner. Jack isn't even tempted to follow him and instead goes into his apartment, locking the door behind him. He enters his bedroom and sees you sitting on his bed–wearing his shirt and sleep shorts–and looking almost lost.
Your head perks up when you see him and he tries to offer you a comforting smile. He takes a moment to get out of his work clothes and into something similar to what you're wearing. He flops on the bed dramatically, making you weakly laugh. He lays next to you and wraps his arm around your waist, pressing his face against your hip.
“You don't have to tell me what happened, but I'm here for you always.” He murmurs and peers up at you. He feels you shift and lets go of his hold so you can turn off his nightstand lamp and then lay next to him.
“I want to quit working. Dean didn't take that well. He's already been on my ass because I've been distracted about that and almost got Sammy hurt on the job.” You sigh and curl up against Jack. “And when I told him I wanted to retire he brought you up.”
“Me?”
“Yeah. He thinks I'm doing this because of you. Which is partially true, but this thought has always been on my mind…a normal life where I can do what everyone else does. Maybe even go to college for something. I don't know. But Dean thinks I'm choosing you over the family. He stewed on it and then gave me an ultimatum: I choose them, or I chose you. And I chose you.”
“Oh, Trouble…” He murmurs, moving as he rubs comforting circles on your back.
“I didn't even want to make that choice.” You sigh softly. “But that's just how the argument went. I…don't know what to do, all I know is I want to have a normal life and I want that life with you, even if Dean doesn't agree.”
“I hope I didn't come between you and your-”
“No, Jack, you didn't. This is just something that was bound to happen with Dean. He didn't like how my personal life started to mix with my work life. Like I said, when I first mentioned it, he stewed and then blew up on me today when things went almost terrible on a job. It's how he is.”
“Still, I don’t like that he put you through this.” He takes a deep breath, kissing the top of your head before tucking it under his chin. “Get some sleep, Trouble. I'll be here for you, always.”
“Thanks…Dr. Sexy.”
Jack snorts, “Don’t mention it.”
You hug him tightly, throwing your leg over his hip. You let out a deep sigh as you relax. He doesn’t stop rubbing your back, not even when you fall asleep. He stays up later than you, thinking over everything about you. He wonders now that you're out of whatever you were doing with the Winchesters you'll tell him what exactly it was, but he doubts it. He wants to know, but at your pace.
Jack finds his eyelids growing heavy and slowly, he falls asleep holding you close.
Thank you everyone for 500 followers <3 I appreciate all the support and I feel so motivated to keep on writing. It was such a big step to restart my writing journey on a new blog and it's been such a blast posting here.
hello, i'm nova (she/they) and I run this blog. Thank you for taking the time to check my things out and reading what I post ♥
im 27 and nd i've been in fandom culture for as long as I can remember (unrestricted internet access as a child, lets go). i've always been drawn to reader inserts because most my ocs for fandoms were self-inserts.
i have an old writing blog on here, where I started post my fics since 2016 I believe? but i used to post on deviant art before that lol. i don't plan to share that blog here or use the name i associated with, but if you are coming from that blog or find it, heyyyy.
i started this one up because i needed change. i've posted to my old one for sooo long, it doesn't feel like the current me. and i just wasn't happy with it but didnt want to delete anything.
i have waves of what interest me and what i will write. i often write down ideas when they come to me and then come back to them for inspiration. i used to have a fandom list but i often lose track of what im into and what i dont really partake in anymore. i post for whatever tickles my fancy lol.
I write what I write, if you don't like it don't read.
I don't plan to accept every single request, i mostly write when i get inspired by random thoughts or things I come across. Still, feel free to send them and I may write for them.
I do write and explore darker themes and sometimes content that is considered triggering. I will accurately tag fics as best I can in my content/warnings section. If I miss something, don't hesitate to reach out and let me know!!
I write for fun and if im not having fun I don't write. I take long breaks between fics/chapters when I start thinking about this blog and my stories as work rather than a hobby.
Don't be shy to send comments, whether that be on the fic you're reading or in my inbox! I love interacting with people (and of course, don't feel obliged to send anything if you don't. I just know I used to be so shy when I would interact with fic writers lol)
Summary: A hunt went bad and you wind up having to go to the PTMC under Dr. Jack Abbots care. Abbot can't help but be charmed by your humor...and the anomalies around you.
Content/Warnings: Crossover AU, Blood, life threatening injuries, near death experience, possible medical inaccuracies (i asked my nurse friends for help so blame them), Dean is lowkey a dick but i love him, SPN inaccuracies (I fight against canon), Patient/Doctor dynamic, one use of Y/N
A/N: So you know those tiktoks that were going around where people owed Whittaker a favor? Thats what inspired this LMAO. I hope yall enjoy, its lowkey a mess but its my mess and I love crossovers.
Chapter 2
“We gotta get to a hospital, Dean!” Sam shouts as he keeps pressing his now bloodied flannel against your stomach. You whine at the sharp turn Dean takes and your head rolls against Sam's chest. Your eyes wearily look to the rear view mirror and catch Dean's worried gaze.
“Cas still not answering?” He growls out as his eyes dart around the road.
“Not his cell or through prayer. He must be busy.”
“Dammit.” The eldest Winchester takes another sharp turn and you hear a honk outside the impala. “I think we're close to a hospital. Just stay with us, sweetheart.”
“Yeah, no problem.” You groan softly and attempt to chuckle, “Not like I have a gaping wound to the gut from a demon or a possible concussion or a broken leg…”
“Well you're still talking like usual so that's a good sign…I see a cross. I'll pull us into the ambulance bay.” The car jerks again and you can’t stop the sharp cry of pain that escapes you. This hunt was a mess. You knew the three of you should have waited for Cas to get done with whatever he's doing or wait for Bobby to make it to Pittsburgh, but Dean and Sam insisted that it would be fine. It was just supposed to be three witches…but there was a demon trail attached to them. And when the three of you attacked? Demons swarmed.
“Fuck, I just hope Dr. Sexy is where we are going.”
“Glad your humor is intact.” Sam tries to smile but his face just crumples back into one of worry as he looks over your form.
Another sharp turn, another cry and next thing you know Dean is slamming the breaks and putting the car into park. He is quick to get out, slamming Baby's door in the process, and opening the one Sam was slightly against.
“I'll get them in.” Dean grunts and the two get you into his arms. It was a rough transition that made your body tense and you nearly screamed at the way your leg moved. “It's okay, you'll be okay.”
Sam gets out right after Dean gets you into his arm, his hand grabbing yours to hold over your stomach wound. You cry out and squeeze your eyes shut at the pain. Your head lulls and next thing you know there are bright lights and Dean and Sam shouting.
“We need help!” You can’t tell which Winchester shouted it but you soon hear a cacophony of voices and footsteps rushing your way. Your vision is blurring and starting to double as Dean lays you on a gurney.
“Trauma one is open. Someone get Dr. Abbot or Dr. Shen!” A stranger shouts as you're being wheeled away. You hear Dean and Sam shout but the words are indiscernible as you're pushed into a room. “Page for Dr. Walsh in case they need to go up.”
You're whimpering at this point. Cold is starting to seep in and you feel it even more when they cut the rest of your shirt off. Things are placed on your body and then a light is flashed in each of your eyes. You can't even keep track of what's said or done. You just try to keep your eyes open and keep praying to Cas.
You don't even realize you're mumbling your prayers.
A man's face appears hovering over you and the first thing you think is, ‘Fuck, it's Dr. Sexy.’
He murmurs your name in a gravely tone that–if you weren't actively bleeding out–would make you swoon. He's older than you with gray curls, his face serious as he tries to get you to focus on his handsome face. Just your type.
Damn, wish I could have met you at a bar.
You see him laugh and hear faint chuckles.
“Didn't mean to say that out loud.” You groan and barely wince when you feel something prick you.
“It's good you're hanging on. Can you tell us what happened?” His eyes glance over your form again before meeting your gaze. “You've got some pretty extensive injuries and lost a lot of blood.”
“Dean and I share the same type if you need any.” You groan and glance down. You instinctively wince when you see a nurse touch your bust leg, but feel nothing.
“That's good to know. I'll send someone to ask him. But before we put you under we want to know what happened to you while the memory is fresh so we can best help you.”
You almost blurt out you got stabbed by a demon, but even in your barely conscious state you know better. “In town for a few days with those two and I got jumped outside a bar. Fought back but they had a pretty big knife. I think Dean and Sam stepped in but I don't remember much after that. Sorry.”
“Don't apologize.” You see him nod to someone outside your vision before focusing back on you. “Just relax for me, you're in great hands.”
You snort and you see him give you a raised brow and an amused look. Dean's humor has definitely rubbed off on you.
You try to stay awake but find your eyelids growing heavier. You want them to tell the Winchesters you love them, to tell Bobby you love him for taking you in all those years ago. You want Cas to be the one to guide your soul to wherever you're ending up. You can feel your skin get colder and your heart seems to be racing in tandem with the incessant beeping you're hearing.
Voices raise, doors open, and you swear you hear Sam's and Dean's voices. Darkness floods your vision and you briefly hear the familiar, smooth voice of your old friend Death whispering in your ear.
—
Jack could hardly believe that you pulled through. You coded several times and each time he thought he lost you. The knife used on you was clearly jagged with how tore up the wound was, your leg was broken in several spots, and the blood you lost was extensive. Instincts tell him there is more to the story.
Like how the two men who brought you in were hesitant to get their wounds treated and how Jack caught a peek at the matching tattoos they have on their chest, much like yours. Or how both of them and you have extensive scarring, especially you and the one he learned is Dean–you both have hand print scars on your shoulders. The taller one–who's name he hasn't caught yet–had a few burn scars on him too. Some old, some new. Just what kind of life are the three of you living? Is there abuse happening here?
Jack's dealt with plenty, yet this is all so strange to him. He watches from the nurses station as you sleep in view while the two men watching over you like hawks, waiting for a bed upstairs even though he knows you'll likely be spending most of your recovery in the Pitt. He wants to get a CT scan and x-ray done, but the two men are apprehensive of further care. Already, they are quick in getting out of the hospital with you in tow. Was it cost or something else?
Regardless, he had one of the residents contact a social worker. Just in case.
Jack's about to force his attention elsewhere when an older man–greying beard and a blue cap on his head is rushing through the ED. Abbot spots the visitor sticker on the man's dirty flannel and he is quick to get around the desk.
“I'm looking for my child–well, they’re full grown now–but I was already on the way when I was told they were here. Last name Singer?” The man–who's visitor sticker has the name Bobby written on it–looks to Jack like many worried people do when their loved ones are in the ED.
“Yes, they are stable for now but it's still touch and go.” He replies back, trying to soften the blow yet still be truthful about your condition. “You’re their father? Of all three or…”
“I legally adopted (Y/N). Their parents died when they was a kid and had no one else. We were close friends. Sam and Dean are like sons to me too. I was friends with their dad until he died.” Bobby sucks in a deep breath through his nose as Jack leads him to where they have you, curtain slightly ajar to keep an easy eye on the three of you. “How bad?”
“Nasty stab wound that tore up their insides, broken leg, blood loss…There were a few times we weren’t sure they were going to make it but they just barely pulled through. We'll need to monitor them and hope a bed upstairs can open up.” Jack explains softly, crossing his arms over his chest as he glances at Singer. He can see he's a man with a history and the little scars visible on his chest and hands tell him he's been through something similar as to the three in that makeshift room. “I will be honest and say I am surprised they've pulled through this far without intensive surgery, but somehow, they are stable and didn't need much help from the OR. They are strong.”
There is a pause before Bobby speaks again. “Has a man named Castiel been by?”
“No, should we be worried about him?”
“No, no. He's like a…family friend. He'd want to be here too is all.” Jack doesn't push for more details–yet, because he recognizes the strange name Castiel from your mumbling–but he can tell there is more to it. “Can I see them? I know hospitals have visitor limits and all…”
“Of course, those two are patients so there is nothing stopping you.” Jack gestures for Bobby to go and he does. No matter how many times he witnesses it, he still gets choked up at the softness and sadness that people show when they first step up to that hospital bed. He sees a look of anger on the older man's face when he starts murmuring to the two men and Jack decides to step away for some air in the ambulance bay.
The air is still warm despite the darkness, the summer heat clinging even at night when it is supposed to be fall. He takes in a deep breath but then freezes when he sees a black impala sitting in the bay.
Must be from those three.
And strangely enough, a pale grey Cadillac Coupe is parked where staff would be parked. It’s not one he’s ever seen for anyone in the Pitt.
Not my immediate problem. If it's still there in 30 minutes, someone will have it towed.
He plans to tell one of the two men to move the impala once he goes back inside. For now, Jack takes soothing deep breaths as he listens to the city noises in the distance. Just a few minutes of peace before he's back in the Pitt.
‘Couple more hours, Jack. Just a couple more hours.’
He sighs softly and waits out the five minutes he gives himself before he returns back to the ED.
Jack heads over to your curtain when he picks up two new voices. He pauses his steps and leans down a little, spotting two extra pairs of shoes. He's not sure if he should interrupt, but he does so anyway.
His curiosity around the strangeness of you wins.
“Knock, knock.” He murmurs and gives it a second before pulling the curtain back. There are two men standing around your bed and–oh, good. You're conscious.
He spots the first one with dark hair, blue eyes, and a trench coat standing between Sam and Dean. The second is a much slender man with slick black hair, an almost gaunt face, and pale skin that's noticeable thanks to the black suit he is wearing. His bony hand is holding yours while the other clutches a cane. Everyone turns their attention to Jack.
He notices the lack of visitor stickers on any of their clothes.
“Glad to see you awake.” He attempts to smile but feels his hair rise at the way the older, gaunt man looks at him. There is something about the way his dark eyes peer at him that unnerves him. “Sorry, had to step out for a second or I would have been here as soon as you woke up…How are you feeling?”
“Like a million bucks, doc.” You give him a tired smile and try to shift up, but wince.
“Now, now. Stay still. We wouldn't want to upset any wounds.” The voice from the strange man still holding your hand is smooth yet stern. “You will be okay. If you need anything, you know how to reach me.”
“Thanks, Dea-” You cut yourself off with a cough before smiling up at the man. “I appreciate your help.”
“Of course. You are my favorite out of the four of you. Just do not make this a frequent thing.” The man glances up at Sam, Dean, and the man Jack assumes is Castiel. The man looks back to Jack with a slight nod before he starts walking. He tries to follow the man as much as he can without being obvious. When two nurses walk past the stranger–blocking Jack's view for the briefest of moments–he loses track of the man in almost a blink of an eye.
Just a few more hours and then you're off, Jack.
“You must be Castiel?” He can't help but ask the man, who gives a slow nod. “Just make sure to get another visitor's sticker. Oh, and that cool Impala in the ambulance bay needs to move.”
“His must have fallen off. Nothing sticks to that trench coat of yours, huh, Cas?” Dean chuckles and hand reaches up to slap Castiel on the arm, who gives him a confused squint. “But yeah, I can get it moved.”
“Keep yourself sat, idjit, I'll move it.” Bobby grumbles and stands up. He gives Dean a look and the younger man rolls his eyes before slapping the keys into the older man's outstretched hand. Bobby takes his leave with one last look at you before he's heading towards the ambulance bay.
Jack clears his throat and approaches your bedside, sitting down in the now vacant chair. “So, you've been through quite a lot and you'll be in a lot of pain. We have set up a continuous IV infusion for you, aka: a morphine drip. Now, it's at a lower dose, but if you feel you need anymore this handy button here will give you a little more.”
“A little more should be good.” You mumble, reaching over and taking the little device from him. Your hands briefly brush and he swears he feels a slight shock. He watches you click up your dosage before relaxing in bed. “How long will I be kept here?”
“Depends on how you heal and what we will see on your scans.”
“Ah…do I have to do any of those?”
“I strongly recommend it. We can get a good look at any internal damages we didn't catch when we operated on you and make sure your head wasn't bumped too hard.”
“You're just trying to make a quick buck–I get it–but once they are cleared to move we would like to hit the road.” Dean gives him a smile that doesn't truly look like a smile, and Jack sees the annoyed looks on Sam's and Castiel's faces.
“Dean, knock it off. He's just doing his job.” You sigh softly and then give Jack a smile. “Isn't that right Dr…” your eyes glance down at his badge and then back to his face. “Dr. Abbot.”
“You just think he is hot.”
“So what if I do? If he had tits you'd be-”
“Okay you two. Not in a hospital.” Sam tries to placate you and Dean before giving Jack an awkward, tight lipped smile. “Sorry about them.”
“Don't say sorry about us.” Both you and Dean speak at the same time, although your words were a little slurred together. The scene and the almost familial bickering makes Jack almost smile. Almost.
His concern about the two men pushing for you to not accept further care outweighs anything else.
“Well, I have other patients to check in on, but I'll be back after my rounds. Just holler for a nurse if you can’t spot me. They are the best.” He does his best to smile and nod before he leaves the space and closes the curtain. He takes another deep breath as he goes to check on other patients and his residents, as well as look for Lena.
—
When Jack checks in on you again, you're laughing weakly as Dean, Sam, and Castiel fake argue at your bedside. The second he walks in he notices how the shorter male of the two straightens up and it reminds him of his military buddies. He gives them both a brief smile as his eyes flicker over to your form.
“You know, we got a few sandwiches near the nurses station if you both are hungry. They are a little dry, but they are pretty damn good.” He attempts to break the ice.
“Got any ham sandwiches?” Dean asks.
“Yeah, a little too salty piece of ham with a kraft single slice. Best of the best.”
“Don't mind if I do, doc. Sammy, Cas, you guys want one?”
“I will go get a new visitor's badge.”
“I'll go with you, Dean. I'm feeling stoved up from sitting here.” Sam stands at his full height and stretches a little before giving you a worried glance.
“Go get some food and walk around. I have time right now to stay with them.” Jack briefly smiles as he scans his badge to access the computer and your records. He could see the three of the men stare at him for a little before they walked off slowly. It’s silent for you and Abbot as he looks through your chart. “So…they are protective.”
You chuckle, “Yep. They are.”
“You’ve known them long?”
“Since I was like six or seven I believe. I met them through Bobby.”
“And where is he?”
“I think he went to get some rest at his motel, I could tell he was running on fumes.” You let out another chuckle. “He was hesitant to leave me in the boys’ care again after you know,” You gesture to your abdomen, “this happened.”
“Does this happen often?” Jack slowly turns to face you and he crosses his arms over his chest. He wanted to wait for a social worker or when Lena was available, but this is the best time for him without those three hovering over you.
“Getting jumped outside bars? Not as often as you may think.” You attempt to brush away his question with a carefree answer but that won’t work for him.
“I mean getting seriously hurt.” He clarifies and takes a few steps closer before he sits next to the gurney. He wears a sympathetic look as his eyes catch onto one of the scars on your arm. “If you need help…”
“Woah, Dr. Abbot.” You blink at him in both confusion and offense.
He raises his hands to show his submission before things escalate more than he means to let them. He wants you to talk with him, not shield yourself. “I am not trying to upset you. But, I cannot help but be concerned either. The extensive scars you have and the way Sam and Dean hover over you and try to prevent care has me concerned.”
You stare at him, almost perplexed, but don’t say anything further.
“I’m sorry. I’m not trying to assume or assert that something is wrong, but I can’t help but be worried with all that I am seeing.” He clears his throat again, looking down briefly at your clenched hand on the thin hospital blanket before meeting you gaze again. Jack doesn’t get to even speak again before you’re replying to him.
“Look, Sam and Dean are overbearing. I get it.” You then sigh and try to shift, not wincing as much as you were before. “But we were raised together and went through a lot. I don’t mean to dump this on you but we’ve lost so much; we are all we have. Dean and Sam lost their parents, Sam his girlfriend, Bobby lost his wife, Castiel lost so much, and I was orphaned with my parents murdered in front of me. They are my only family and while they seem overprotective, they mean well…for the most part.”
Jack swallows thickly at what you’ve told him and you sigh softly.
“Sorry, like I said I didn’t mean to dump all that on you…it’s just hard to explain why we're the way we are without the gruesome details. It’s probably unhealthy but,” You shrug your shoulders and then give Jack a tiny smile, “I wouldn’t have it any other way. They are family; blood or not.”
“I appreciate you opening up to me when you didn’t have to. I’m sorry for sounding accusatory-”
“Like you said, you were just concerned. I get it.” You press your lips together and then speak again. “I wouldn’t mind doing the scans but I am starting to really feel better.”
“Really?” He tilts his head as he looks you over. Despite everything, you do look like you’ve regained some color to your face. Your eyes aren’t as dazed and as he really looks over your face, some of the superficial wounds are either mostly or completely healed. He knows it’s not a matter of memory for him. His face must give off the confusion he is feeling because you chuckle.
“The world has more in it than you’re aware of.” You give him a cryptic comment with a smirk that makes his chest tighten ever–so-slightly. “You got stories of your own, doc? I can tell you’ve got a military background.”
“You can tell?”
“Yeah, the way you move and tilt your head reminds me of John; Sam and Dean’s dad. He was military.” And then you grin. “Forgive me for speaking ill of the dead but you do it in a sexy way, not a hardass way like he did.”
Jack almost sputters at the boldness and sudden flirtation but he is quick to school his expression and is even almost smirking. “A sexy way? So, you think I am good looking.”
“Morphine is giving me loose lips.” You roll your eyes but that little smile remains on your face. “I don’t always mean what slips out.”
“And when you said you wished you’d met me at a bar?”
“The blood loss.”
“Or when Dean said-”
“Alright, alright.” You groan but your smile remains. “I admit, you’re just my type…silver fox basically. You know, while I was bleeding out in Dean’s car I had hoped the hospital would have Dr. Sexy. I was very happy to see you hovering over me.”
“Don’t tell me you watch that trashy show?”
“It’s Dean’s favorite.” You laugh and then try to lean over the railing. “Wearing cowboy boots too?”
“I may be called ER Cowboy around these parts but I would never wear cowboy boots in my ED.”
“You'd look hotter.” You mumble under your breath but just loud enough for him to hear as you settle back into the bed.
“You're trouble and you're going to get me in trouble.” He shakes his head with a ‘tsk’ as he focuses back on your health and care instead of how that brief, flirty banter made him feel. You're a patient, he reminds himself. “But since they aren't here, I will ask you directly: did you want scans done?”
You look down at your hands and bite your lip to think it over.
“I can cover it if it is a cost thing. Or if the men you are with are preventing you from getting care for any reason I can advocate for you. I don't want you to not receive the care you need if it's an obstacle we can get past.”
“It's neither of those things…well, it would be too much for us but I'm just…worried? If that's the right word.” You look at him again and eye him, almost as if you're waiting for him to press you for answers, but he doesn’t. You blink and then a small smile appears along with a slight mischievous glint that is gone in a second.“I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to check. I swear I hit my head on the ground when I was attacked, but I'm not feeling pain there.”
“I'll get you in then. We haven’t been too-” He stops himself from saying the words. He swears he's not superstitious and yet he can't help but be cautious. “It shouldn't be too long of a wait.”
“I didn't take you to be superstitious, Dr. Sexy. Totally off script there.” You grin his way as he blinks and shakes his head with a laugh. “Don't worry, I'm superstitious too.”
“Good to know, trouble.” He's tempted to make a quip back but Sam, Dean, and Castiel come back with a sandwich and water.
“Can they eat now, doc?” Dean asks as he wipes crumbs off his lips.
“Well, they've agreed to do further scans-”
Dean grunts your name and then glares at Jack.
“Dean, knock it off. I agreed to do it for my own sake.” You then flip the eldest Winchester off when he glares at you.
“Anyways,” Jack tries not to laugh when you raise both your hands to show Dean your middle fingers as he continues to glare your way, ‘I'll want to do a CT to look at your muscles around your abdominal wound and your broken leg, so little sips of water are fine. And then I'd like to have a chest x-ray done too. I noticed some intense bruising and marks there and I want to make sure nothing is broken.”
“I think I got kicked pretty hard when I went down.”
“I'll get you put in line then. It shouldn't take long.” He smiles your way just a little longer than he means to.
“Can you hold my hand through it, doc?” You giggle and your laugh increases when Dean gags.
“Unfortunately, I can't be in the room with you but if I am not busy, I'll meet you when you're done.”
“Dr. Abbot, two minutes until a GSW comes in.” A nurse peeks her head around the corner as she speaks before she's scurrying off.
“Looks like I have to go. Rest for now and a nurse will take you to CT first when it's time.” Jack is quick to take his leave. He's too inclined to fall in with your banter at work.
“Hope the night is quiet for you, doc.” Dean grunts his way.
“I hope you learn to shut the fuck up.” Jack calls back, allowing himself another moment to be unprofessional (but when is he ever?). As he leaves he hears the sound of you cursing Dean out while laughing, Sam trying to placate everything, and Castiel confused at why what Dean said was such a big deal.
—
Jack's mentally cursing that Dean man as he works on yet another patient; a 19 year old male who missed the pool when he jumped from the roof. It's been back to back emergencies that pull him and Shen through all the trauma rooms. It is mere minutes to when Robby will come in and take over with the day crew.
“He's good to go to surgery.” Jack grunts and gives a nod over to Walsh who agrees. He steps back and strips off his gloves as he walks out of trauma two. He's tired and he wants to go home, but he wants to check on you first. He's been so wrapped up in teaching residents and the med students through the constant emergencies, he hasn't had time to look at your scans that were left for him at the nurses station.
Jack lets out a weary sigh as he slides the folder to where he is standing. He slowly opens it and he is greeted with your CT scan. Surprisingly, everything is…normal.
His brows furrow and he can’t help but lean in closer to inspect every little detail. For the kind of wounds you had, he expected worse and yet it’s like nothing ever happened to you.
“What the…” He mumbles, staring at the images as if his eyes are playing tricks on him. He closes his eyes for a few moments and opens them. The images are still the same.
Jack closes that folder and blinks when he sees the note on top of the second folder.
‘I haven’t told anyone else, but please look at these urgently.’
Jack opens the folder quickly and it feels as though his heart is in his throat. He swallows slowly, trying to school his expression as he looks over your chest x-ray.
As clear as day on your bones are what look to be carved symbols, none that he recognizes. He shakes his head; he should be focused on the fact that you have carvings in your fucking rib bones. Jack snaps the folder closed and doesn’t even think as he rushes to your bed. He grips the current tight and yanks it open to find nothing.
He freezes.
The blankets are folded nicely along with the gown you wore while your EKG wires and the needle from your IV laid haphazardly on the bed. He catches the drops of blood on the bed and floor from it. All he can do is stare at the empty bed. If it weren’t for those crimson drops on the fabric, he would have thought this was an empty bed.
His grip tightens on the folders and he walks back over to the nurses station.
“Where’s my patient in north 2?” Jack asks Lena, his voice coming out a little sharper than he means it to.
“Oh, the one who had the abdominal wound and broken leg? They wanted to leave and signed all the forms for it.” She explains to him softly and then reaches into her pocket. “They asked me to give this to you before you left. The men and them were pretty set on leaving as soon as possible…What’s wrong, Abbot?”
“Nothing…just…” He isn’t sure what to say as he takes the folded paper from her. What can he say? His patient–who miraculously seemed to heal completely in just a few hours and has carvings on their bones, who he felt an inkling of a connection to–is gone and how can he possibly explain any of that to anyone?
“I'm gonna head up to the roof for some air. If you need anything, Shen is still around.” He walks away from the nurses station and finds himself making the journey up to the roof. I just need to clear my head. It's been a long shift, he tells himself. He tucks the folders under his arm as he slowly unfolds the paper you left him.
‘Call or text, Dr. Sexy<3’ is scribbled messily followed by a phone number. He just stares at the paper and then groans, leaning against the metal railing as he tilts his chin towards his chest. He can’t tell if he wants to burn it with your scans or laugh.
Jack isn't sure how long he is up there for. He knows it is a little past seven since he heard the door open. He doesn’t have to look, he knows it’s Robby. There is a presence next to him yet still that needed space.
“Rough night? Shen said it got busy towards the end.” Robby's voice is gentle and inquisitive. “But, it's not that, is it? I was told a patient got under your skin?”
“I wouldn’t say that.” Jack sucks in a deep breath and straightens his back before he looks at Robby. “They are trouble and make me want to cross the line with patient-doctor care. They left me their phone number and left me with so many questions. I don’t know what to do.”
“Well, how bad are they?” Robby turns away from the ledge and leans back against the railings, his arms crossing over his chest. Jack moves the folders from under his arm to his hands as he looks at them. He hesitates to show Robby, as if it's a secret he isn’t meant to share. If he presses Jack he could use the HIPAA argument.
Yet, he's handing over the two folders to Robby without a word. He watches his friend open the first folder with the CT scans
“Looks like a healthy patient.” Robby murmurs as his eyes dart between the scan of your leg and abdomen.
“Yeah, they were stabbed and had a broken leg. They coded a few times and I am surprised they lived, honestly. A couple hours later it's as if nothing happened.” Jack shrugs his shoulders at Robby’s bewildered expression.
“You're telling me this was after all that?”
“Yes. You should look at their chest x-ray too.”
Robby is quick to open the second fold and his eyes widen again. “What the fuck?”
“That's what I said. Actual fucking carving on their bones and I can't even tell what it is.”
“And this person… You're also into?”
“I don't know, man. It's just…there was something about them that drew me in. I haven't felt like that since I first met Maria.” Jack tenses for a moment at mentioning his late wife. “But I also got alarm bells going off telling me not to get involved with them. You should have seen the scars they and the two men they were with had.”
“I don't know what to say.” Robby keeps his focus on your chest x-ray for a few moments longer before closing the folder. He hands them both to Abbot and makes eye contact with him. “How loud are those alarm bells going?”
“Pretty fucking loud, man. But I just can't shake them.”
“If I were you, Jack, I'd text them.” That answer surprised Abbot. “Clearly, they are a medical anomaly and I think it would be interesting to get to them as well. But on a serious note, you should keep in touch. It doesn't have to be romantic now, but clearly you feel something. I think friends outside of the Pitt will do you some good.”
“I have friends outside of here, Robby.”
“I was going to say normal friends but clearly they aren't normal and you have a type.” Michael chuckles and pushes himself off the railing, heading back to the door. “Think it over and if they ever want to come back let me know so I can meet this walking miracle.”
Jack watches Robby give him a single wave before he is re-entering the hospital. Jack huffs and looks at the creased paper that has your phone number. He almost burned holes into it with how hard he was staring.
He should–in reality–let you go and forget about this shift. He should just burn your scans and number. He should just focus on work and his hobbies.
And yet, Jack is tucking the foldsrs back under his arm before he fishes his cellphone out from his pocket. He types in his four digit code and opens the phone app, his eyes switching between his screen and the paper as he types in your number. He hesitates for a moment over the freen call button but ultimately taps it and brings the device to his ear.
Jack waits as it rings, almost impatiently. He is expecting it to go to voicemail at this point but then he hears a click.
“Did you like the pictures I left you, Dr. Sexy?” He can hear the playful smirk in your voice through the phone.
“You keep surprising me, you know. And leaving me with so many questions.” He chuckles when he hears your soft laugh. “It was rude of you to up and leave me like that…after the night we shared?”
“Sorry, doc, I don’t typically stay around after a man has seen me naked.” You hum into the phone.
“Knock it off!” Dean shouts in the background of the call.
“Don't mind him, Dr. Abbot.” You sigh before speaking again. “So, you decided to call me.”
“I did, Trouble. You left me your number. Do you want to tell me why?”
“Because I like older men and I appreciated your care and advocacy for me.” He can hear the way your voice softens at the end of your sentence. He feels touched. “I'll be honest and tell you my life is crazy.”
“I pieced that much together.”
“Ha-ha.” He just knows you rolled your eyes and it makes him smile. “I tend to travel a lot with Dean, Sam, and occasionally Castiel. But, I like you. I want to get to know you more and stay in touch. And, if I ever am in the area again I would like to see you again.”
“Preferably not on the operating table again.”
“That would be best.” You laugh again and he finds himself liking that sound. “So what do you say, doc?”
He may regret his next words, he may not. But Jack knows he won't ever forget you, even if he tries. “I would like that very much, Trouble.”
Sorry if anyone has me on notifications and just got SPAMMED. Im trying to start making the post for my next fic and yet, tumblr is refusing to draft it and keeps posting.
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