Kayla has worked at Dunkin' to help fund her schooling. Everything is fine when she finds out that the crush on her regular customer becomes a crush on her attending.
Here We Go Again [Ao3] (22/35)
(1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22)
Andrew "Pope" Cody x Lizzie (F!oc). It's been a month since the breakup, too bad that the Cody family never seems to let people go. Lizzie just wants to move on but it never works out that way. Exes to lovers.
This is a part 1 of 2 longfic series.
I Want You to Know [Ao3]
John Carter x Laura (F!oc). Laura absolutely did not have a crush on her good friend John. So what if she loved to hear his laugh or see his smile? So what if he called her almost daily and was willing to tutor her? She's a med student glad to have found someone willing to help her who had hands on experience.
Friends to Lovers.
Word Count: 22,597
If the Bones are Good [Ao3] (23/34)
(1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23)
Jack Abbot x Amber (F!oc). Amber just wants to finish her practicum at PTMC, be done and have a career she put off for years. Her dysfunctional family is not helping her trying to achieve her goal. But, everything feels a bit lighter when she meets Jack Abbot.
Coworkers to lovers
Onto Something [Ao3] (23/30)
(1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23)
Michael Robinavitch x Alexis (F!oc). Alexis is a paramedic who had a bad day on the job. Meeting Dr Robinavitch while as a patient did help a little, at least
Protect and Serve Collection
Sammy Bryant x Amy (F!oc). Amy is a masters student whose fallen in love with a detective with his own difficulties.
Relaxation
Brett Richards X Amanda (F!oc). Amanda is a firefighter whose partner is chief. Fluff.
Safe & Secure collection
Charlie Reid x Andrea (Foc). Andrea wanted a new life, a new beginning. Finding herself as a new secretary for Deputy Chief Charlie Reid, she catches his eye for better or worse.
Spot in the Dark [Ao3]
Jack Abbot x Olivia (F!oc). A series of one shots. A collection of oneshots through the years of Olivia's Residency to attending as she and Jack fall in love.
Coworkers to lovers, Mentor/mentee
Stay with me Collection
Michael Robinavitch x Leah (Foc). A collection of oneshots.
Established relationship. Coworkers and lovers. Mentor/Mentee. Leah is a resident at PTMC.
Warnings: Blood, gore, violence, murder, swearing, major and minor injuries, death, (eventual) smut, mentions of forced prostitution.
Summary: The white swan of the Capitol; gracious, elegant, and innocent. You catch many of the Capitol's attention in your games, whether that was due to your agility, cleverness, or looks in all, even managing to capture the gaze of your young mentor and old friend, Finnick Odair.
Synopsis: Robby falls in love with a young nurse and fights it every step of the way. But when you know, you know.
Warnings: smut, 18+, MDNI, angst, fighting, slow burn, blood, gore, medical inaccuracies, pittfest, panic attacks, mentions of suicide.
Pre season one:
one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight | nine | ten | eleven | twelve | thirteen | fourteen | fifteen | sixteen
season one:
7 am | 8 am | 9 am | 10 am | 11 am | 12 pm | 1 pm | 2 pm | 3 pm | 4 pm | 5 pm | 6 pm | 7 pm | 8 pm | 9 pm
Blurbs during the ten months between season one and two (can be read as a standalone):
I love you (18+) | whats going on in that head of yours? (18+) | Intimacy (18+) | nobody can touch you the way that I do (18+) | dreams (18+) | Date Night
Fashion Designer Y/N x Poly!Ateez (soulmate AU, polyamory)
Tags: Soulmates, Romance, K-pop Idols, Fashion, Paris, Slow Burn, Polyamory, First Love, Acceptance, Humor, Friendship, Emotional Growth, Group Dynamics, and Supportive Relationships.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12
A Parisian fashion designerās world is turned upside down when she meets members of Ateez, leading to a soulmate connection that changes her life forever. As she races to prepare for her biggest runway show, she must navigate new relationships, unexpected challenges, and the possibility of finding love in the most surprising places.
Stylist Y/N x Poly!Stray Kids (soulmate AU, polyamory)
Tags: Secret Soulmate, Soulmates, Found Family, Fluff, Ā Mutual Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Polyamory, Slow Burn, Emotional Growth, and Romance.
Part 1 Part2 Part 3 Part 4
Bonus: Chan x Y/N x Changbin
After landing her job as Stray Kidās stylist, Y/N discovers she shares the same soulmark with the group. Afraid of being misunderstood or seen as an obsessive fan, she keeps the truth hidden, torn between protecting her place in their world and the hope of one day belonging for real.
Jack Abbot x Michael Robinavitch with/without OC or Reader
Found: Jack and Robby have decided to use a surrogate to expand their family. Robby has been dragging his feet in picking someone, no one has felt right. Enter Ginny Coil. She is exactly what they're looking for: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10
The Adventures of Fuzzy and Ducky: Robby was close with his goddaughter until her parents moved away and became reclusive. When he recieves a call that changes both of their lives, he has to figure out how to help his not-so-little goddaughter while keeping his marriage together and running an ER: Ch1 Ch2 Ch3 Ch4 Ch5 Ch6 Ch7 Ch8 Ch9 Ch10 Ch11 Ch12 Ch13 Ch14 Ch15 Ch16 Ch17 Epilogue Part 1 Epilogue Part 2
numbers indicate the order they were written and published in because i did not write this chronologically lol
MICHAEL ROBINAVITCH x F!POPSTAR!READER
word count (not including blurbs): 67.6k
JANUARY 2020 - DECEMBER 2020:
Thinking of You - you're there for robby when he needs it most, despite how badly he wishes he could handle everything himself. aka, you're perfect and it scares him. (angst, hurt/comfort) #2
JANUARY 2021 - DECEMBER 2021:
Better Than the Holiday - robby discovers that you're actually sort of (extremely) famous. (angst, hurt/comfort) #4
JANUARY 2024 - DECEMBER 2024:
Walk the Ledge - you find robby up on the roof after pittfest, separating your life into two partsābefore and after. (serious angst, hurt/comfort) #7
5 Stars - you gather intel for your patient satisfaction review of PTMC. in other words, you suffer a minor medical emergency and your healthcare professional friends take you to the ED. (fluff) #3
Sweet Girl - you and robby spend the day together before you go back to New York. (fluff) #5
Patience, Unconditional Love, Anatomy - you end up sitting next to your very famous ex at an awards show and the fans lose it. so does robby, but only for a minute, because you remind him exactly why he doesn't need to. (fluff w/hint of smut) #6
āæ Murphy's Law - you're six weeks into your north american tour when the universe decides to punish you for an unknown crime. robby tries to pick up the pieces from 2000 miles away. (hurt/comfort, fluff, smut) #8
āæ Until Death, I Do, I Do, I Do - on your wedding day, robby sends you down memory lane. (fluff, smut) #9
JANUARY 2026 - DECEMBER 2026:
Thatās what you do all day? - your quick visit to the ER to drop off snacks turns into much more when an incoming trauma patient recognizes you. (UPCOMING - 12/FEB/2026 @ 8pm MST)
MINI SERIES - blurbs, SMAUs, short fics
things you text your PTMC friends/staff about - glimpses of your text threads with those who work in the pitt
u have a type - trinity won't stop bringing up the fact that you like to date older men.
sad mouse roommate - you really like dennis. trinity is jealous.
the nightshift - robby and your friends are on a nightshift rotation. you never sleep.
altruistic - since you have the resources, you love to help others out wherever you can.
surprise! - trinity helps you plan a little surprise reunion for you and robby after you've been away for a month. mel, dennis, and victoria help her surprise you, too. (direct companion piece to Patience, Unconditional Love, Anatomy)
celebrity HIPAA - you don't understand being a doctor, trinity doesn't understand being a celebrity. you help each other out. (aka all the stupid questions you ask about the other's job)
rage bait - something you and trinity are exceptionally good at. (UPCOMING)
shorter works - a very random assortment of moments with you, robby, and your friends
orange peel theory - your friends want to see how robby reacts to a Tiktok trend.
but you have no ring? - robby can't help but show you off to one of his patients when Perlah reveals that he's engaged.
soft launch - photos you post that implicate your relationship with robby
september 1st, 2021
optional canon - blurbs, ideas, messages that can be applied to the universe but are only canon if you want them to be :) (aka the events in these will not be referenced in the main instalments)
canadian!val core with ex!sidney crosby
FUTURE WORKS:
if there's something on here that you really want to see, please leave a comment or send me a message!! then it'll get prioritized. otherwise i'll just write these as i find time and inspiration :)
the things you want, but never get - you always believed that love was enough if you wanted it to be. you learn that that isn't the case.
15 Minutes - when all else fails, you have a foolproof way to make robby forget about everything that's bothering him. even if you only have 15 minutes.
crushed like a bug - five years, five major depressive episodes. robby learns exactly what you need from him.
Before the Drop - new years eve has always seemed destined to keep you and robby apart. circumstances, distance, and mishaps get in the way every single time, but you always manage to be with each other, in some way, when the clock strikes midnight.
Work That MD - a collection of times robby's medical expertise have come in handy over the years.
FUTURE WORKS (these reference season 2...SPOILERS AHEAD!):
My Man on Willpower - robby's super busy trying to ready Dr. Al-Hashimi to take over while he's on sabbatical. you want attention. he doesn't give it. you are very very very dramatic. (will not be fully canon, Dr. Al-Hashimi will have been shadowing/working the ED for a few weeks before robby leaves!)
The Curse of the Last Shift - you bring lunch for the entire ED for robby's last day before leaving for his sabbatical, hoping that he doesn't fall victim to a superstition you saw on TV. (spoiler alert! he does). *
*will not be written until after the season 2 finale airs so i can make the story as accurate as possible :)
Hello!
Welcome to my non-exhaustive first part of Mobility-Aids Jack Abbot Probably Has
Letās start with my area of expertise: wheelchairs
Jack is an ambulatory wheelchair user ā which means he can walk, he just spends a good chunk of his life in a wheelchair. He very likely spends most of his days in a custom active manual wheelchair. This is a wheelchair he pushes by himself without any kind of power-assist. Although, a power assist can be attached to these chairs and I guarantee Jack probably owns one. (More info below).
Pictured below is an custom (rigid) active manual wheelchair that Jack would own and would be fitted to his body:
Please note that the backrest is short as Jack does not have a spinal injury as far as we are aware. There are no push handles, as many chair users (myself included) who can push ourselves and rarely need assistance, do not want to be pushed without consent. Which happens, a lot.
Jack is a BKA, a below-the-knee amputee, he would be fine using a contoured seat cushion and one foot plate. This way he can wear his leg in his chair or not.
This rigid chair is designed to be pulled apart and light. Here is a helpful guide for the names of everything. The frame itself (on a rigid chair, like the ones pictured) is one solid piece, however, the big driving wheels, seat cushion, and side guards all come off. The backrest (if solid and not fabric) will fold down.
There is also another type of custom active manual wheelchair called a folding chair. You can typically tell the different because folding chairs have split foot rests. They are also often heavier, but they can fold, some recline and some have foot rests can be adjusted to facilitate this. I donāt believe Jack would spend most of his days in a folding chair, as they are a bit bigger and less easily maneuvered. However, I do believe he owns one and likely uses one when undergoing revision surgeries to his residual limb.
Probably with a swing away support like this:
Now, pushing a wheelchair is a very tiring experience, even for someone well-accustomed to life in a chair. So, power options.
Jack likely owns a SmartDrive, Firefly or another kind of power assist that hooks onto his active manual chairs. (If you want me to explain more, I shall). Side note, there are also attachments with no power assist that Jack would probably have too, like a FreeWheel (essentially one big wheel in front that makes hiking/nature way easier).
A SmartDrive would simply hook onto the back of his chair and be controlled by a dial or a switch or an app or by push-rim.
A Firefly would hook to the front to turn his chair into more of a scooter for city travel, by lifting his caster wheels off the ground.
Now, if Jack wanted a power chair, it would likely be an electric folding chair and not a full-sized power chair.
Something like this, which would not need a ramp to get into his truck.
But! At home or for short distances with no leg ā letās move to another mobility aid: crutches!
Jack very likely uses forearm or gutter crutches to get around. Depending on how he wants his weight to sit (through his hands and wrists, or spread out through his forearms).
Forearm:
Gutter:
I also guarantee Jack has a couple random canes lying around, a couple clunker hospital wheelchairs and the parts to fix just about anything.
Jack very likely also carries with him at all times: two Allen wrench sets, microfiber towels, Clorox wipes, screws, washers and bike lube. Just in case he needs to maintenance his chair on the go. He also probably carries them in a fanny pack strapped around his seat, which makes a handy pocket under his wheelchair to carry random shit.
Jack also is a cripplepunk, I just know it in my heart and soul ā but that is a different ramble. Please be expecting another post about Jackās many legs and chair decor soon.
Now, one last thing, sports!
Our favorite cripple probably owns a sports chair, which is much lighter than even his usual rigid chair and doesnāt have brakes, but does have a bar in front (as well as an extreme camber/tilt to the wheels). Although, some donāt, depending on what sport you want to play.
This is a sled hockey bucket!
And this is for WCMX, basically skateboarding but make it wheelchair.
Butterfly (complete): Callie is vet tech with a silly sense of humor. Jack Abbot was immediately obsessed. When she lands herself in The Pitt from a work injury, Jack falls apart. Ch 1 - Ch 2 - Ch 3
Promises, Promises (complete): Companion to Butterfly. Dr. Abbot is a nervous first time father. It's not helping that the L&D is flooded and his girlfriend is stubborn. Ch 1 - Ch 2 - Ch 3 - Alt. Ending
You Wouldn't Ask: Companion to Promises, Promises and Butterfly. Jack has set aside one day a month to take his girlfriend out and pamper her, their daughter in tow. Callie, loves it. But when pickles at the farmers market make her realize that she's going to have a very bad day, Jack has to keep his little family from falling apart.
Broken Smile: You are one of PTMC's best ER residents, but it's your day off. You head to Pittfest. Robby and Abbot have to pick up the pieces. Reader x platonic!Abbot and Robby
Salvation: Jack needs you like air, but he's too wounded to keep himself from breaking everything.
Easy: You're a new ER nurse and feel like you aren't cut out for it. Jack sees what you don't.
Like You (complete): You're a single mom with a teen boy. Jack can handle the anger, he'll still care for him. Years later, Pittfest makes them equal and it breaks Jack's heart. Ch 1 - Ch 2 - Ch 3 - Ch 4
Spitfire (complete): Lena Murphy is the best of the best. Her mentors, Dr. Robby and Dr. Abbot, taught her well and her coworkers lean on her. But everyone has a breaking point. How will the Pitt handle one of their own breaking? Ch 1 - Ch 2 - Ch 3 - Ch 4 - Ch 5
Organized Care: You forget to take care of yourself. Jack is a walking pharmacy, so it's fine.
Dysphagia Dilemma: Emma is sick and no one knows what it is. Not even Dr. Jack Abbot.
You're a Good Man, Jack Abbot: Ashley suffers from Endometriosis and Ovarian Cysts. When she's having a bad flare-up on a day when her partner, Jack Abbot, is covering another department, she has to deal with dismissive doctors.
Desperation: She and Jack receive the worst news. They hold each other, what else is there to do?
An Unfair Trajectory: Reader is in a car accident and suffers from severe injuries including a traumatic brain injury. Jack helps her navigate her healing.
Going Up: You and Jack get into some sexy shenanigans when the elevator breaks. 18+ only!
Time Machine: Jack's daughter is pregnant and he has to figure out how to keep everything from falling apart. And learn to not kill her boyfriend.
Too Much: Jack x OC: Jack has to reckon with the promises he made to his wife in order to keep her safe. Warnings: Bipolar Depression, violence, blood, self-harm, trauma, therapy
Get Used to it: When Rose finds herself single and pregnant, Jack Abbot steps up. As the due date approaches, feelings are harder to hide. Complete. Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5
The Adventures of Fuzzy and Ducky: (Rabbot) Robby was close with his goddaughter until her parents moved away and became reclusive. When he recieves a call that changes both of their lives, he has to figure out how to help his not-so-little goddaughter while keeping his marriage together and running an ER. Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3 Ch 4 Ch 5 Ch 6 Ch 7 Ch 8 Ch 9 Ch 10 Ch 11 Ch 12 Ch 13 Ch 14 Ch 15 Ch 16 Ch 17 Epilogue Part 1 Epilogue Part 2
Woodland Treasures: Jack likes to go on hikes on his day off. He finds something unexpected while enjoying the start of fall.
Kittens are Great Wingmen: Jack has taught his kitten, Peg, to walk on a leash so they can hike together. When a hike goes wrong, it lands him in the Pitt. But there's always a silver lining. Especially when the person fixing your laceration is your crush.
The Exhaustion of Being a Woman:Being a woman in the world is tough. When A patient gets handsy, you think about packing it in. Jack is there to make sure you're okay.
Rain on Your Birthday: It's raining. It's your birthday. You hate your birthday. Jack is there for you to lean on through it.
The Baby Dream: You wake up from the infamous Baby Dream and are distraught. Jack has no idea what is going on. He tries his best to understand.
Slipped: Jack Abbot x Robinavitch Sister! Reader; You've been struggling with Infertility and Jack has been holding you together. Eventually, you both reach a breaking point and have to figure out how to put each other back together. Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3 Ch 4 Ch 5
Ice, Ice Baby!: You slip on the ice outside of PTMC, your husband, Jack Abbot, is doing his best to not mock you.
Chapter Summary: During a night out, you end up in the ER with a hurt ankle and can't resist flirting with the handsome attending, who ends up taking you on a date.
Tags/Notes: jack abbot x reader, bimbo!reader, meet cute (?), inappropriate flirting, first date, age gap
Content: mild injury (sprained ankle), use of needles, discussions of jack being a widower
A/N: heavily inspired by @promotional-dvd who writes just the most charming bimbo x robby/rabbot in the entire world. i hope ive done expanding the bimbo!reader world justice with this series
Word Count: 3.3k
Itās a quiet night in early November when you get wheeled into the ER by one of Jack Abbotās doctors, drunk off your ass and unable to stop giggling. Heās never seen Ellis in a short going-out dress and the sight makes him blink hard a few times, processing the contrast with everyone elseās scrubs.
Ellis is in triage mode as she brings you over to trauma one, Abbot following close behind her. The nightās impossibly boring for once, so having anything to do is a nice change of pace, even if a drunk coed is usually below his paygrade as an attending. āWe were out dancing and she went down hard. Pretty sure her ankleās broken.ā
You squeeze Ellisā hand and look like youāre on the verge of tears as you say, āYouāre such a good friend, Parker. Iām gonna miss you so much when you start your stupid fellowship.ā
āYeah, we will too,ā Jack chuckles. He looks up at his resident and says, āCanāt practice medicine when youāre drunk, doc. Call a cab, head home, and drink some water. Iāll see you tomorrow.ā
āNobody calls cabs anymore, grandpa,ā Ellis replies with a tipsy snicker. āMy Uberās already waiting.ā
Jack rolls his eyes as he turns back to you. He wheels over the nearby stool and sits in front of you. āIām Dr. Abbot.ā
āOh, youāre Parkerās boss.ā Your eyes widen like the two of you are sharing a wicked secret. āShe never said youāre a total fox. You should write her up for that.ā
He laughs, āPretty sure that would be an HR violation. Now, how about we start you with an IV? Get some painkillers for that ankle and throw in a cocktail of vitamins and electrolytes to help you sober up.ā
You present your arm obediently and ask, āDo you call it a banana bag like they do on Greyās?ā
He smirks as he hangs the bags. āSometimes, yeah.ā
āAre you like this hospitalās Patrick Dempsey?ā
āHavenāt seen the show.ā
You pout and itās unmistakably cute. āBoo, youāre no fun.ā
āNot a lot of fun running an ER.ā
āOooh,ā you coo and tease, āpretty boy doctor runs the ER.ā
He smirks and lets it slide even though Robby would kill him for letting a hot girl think anyone but him is in charge. āDeep breath for the needle. There you go; good job.ā
As the fluids and meds rip through your system, you start feeling a little less floaty in your head. āThanks, Dr. Abbot. Very gentle with the needle.ā
āYears of experience.ā
You raise an eyebrow, your gaze hot over his muscular arms and handsome features. āYeah, I bet. Years of sticking it in people.ā
Jack clears his throat and rolls his shoulders. For the first time, he registers what youāre wearing: A baby pink halter with black laces up the back and BOMBSHELL across the front in silver gems, a fluttery black skirt so short he could touch the waistband with his thumb and the hem with his pinkie, and very little else. In this position, he can actually see a peek of the white lace panties between your legs. Several inches of your stomach are exposed and thereās a set of silver chains crisscrossing your bare skin.
He has to avert his eyes quickly to stop anything from happening below his scrubs. Then he sees your damn heels. No wonder you tripped. The platform beneath your toes has to be two or three inches and the pink ribbons tied up around your calves are doing nothing structural. Your legs look fucking phenomenal, which Jack definitely doesnāt allow himself to notice.
After flexing his fists to steady himself, Jack asks, āMind if I take a look at that ankle?ā
In response, you extend your leg and place your foot squarely in his lap. Your toes are painted with silver glitter that matches your accessories and youāre wearing an anklet with tinkling charms.
Cradling your calf with a hand that you canāt help noticing is big, Jack tells you, āI need to take the shoe and jewelry off to visualize the injury properly, okay?ā
āGood luck,ā you giggle. āI can barely get them on and off when Iām sober.ā
As Jack chuckles, he makes relatively quick work of the maze of ties. āWell, itās been a long time since Iāve done any surgery, but I think Iām up to the task.ā
āThen you should definitely use those magic hands to get me out of this top, too, because I donāt think Iāll be able to do it myself.ā Then your rapidly clearing eyes go wide and your lips part as you slap your hand over your face. He realizes that the polish on those dangerously long nails matches your toes ā and his heart thuds a bit, something it doesnāt do very often these days. āI didnāt mean to make it sound like I was hitting on you! I mean, I was, because youāre totally cute, obviously, but- Oh my god, Iām so sorry. Iām such a flirt when I have vodka; I canāt help it.ā
āThatās alright,ā he laughs, trying not to blush under the attention as he sets aside your shoe and anklet. Your skin is exceptionally soft and thereās a faint shimmer to it from whatever lotion you used. And, god, you smell really good. Like coconut oil and shea butter and a fun night out. Shaking out the thoughts that follow, Jack palpates different parts of your lightly bruised ankle and tells you, āIām flattered; itās been a long time since someone like you hit on me.ā
You tilt your head. āSomeone like me?ā
āIām sorry,ā he rushes, āthat was inappropriate.ā
āI donāt mind inappropriate,ā you tease, running your other foot up his leg. He lets the overt flirting go even though he knows he shouldnāt. He should be stilling your leg and reminding you that heās your doctor. But when he looks up into your big eyes, he just canāt bring himself to. āCāmon, tell me.ā
āI just meant youāre very pretty,ā he says, sounding strangled and sweet, āand young. Not the demographic that usually flirts with an old army doctor.ā
You puff out your lower lip. āIām the same age as Parker.ā
āReally? Wouldāve figured you were younger.ā
You tell him with a laugh, āI just donāt have that whole āthe world is full of pain and sufferingā expression all you doctors do.ā
Jack snickers as he flexes your foot in different directions, watching your reactions carefully, āIs mine pretty bad?ā
Your eye contact goes from teasing to something a bit deeper as you reply, āNot when youāre looking at me, actually.ā
He clears his throat and suppresses his smile. āWell, your ankle is just sprained. Ellis was being overly cautious bringing you in, but better safe than sorry. Rest it as much as you can and use ice to bring down the swelling. Rotate between Tylenol and ibuprofen if it gets too sore.ā Then he gives you a serious look that makes your stomach do a flip ā the good kind, not the drunk kind. āAnd Iām definitely going to recommend laying off the giant heels for a while. Permanently, if you want to avoid aggravating the injury.ā
You swing your feet, admiring the pretty shoes. āWhatās life without a little risk?ā
He rolls his eyes. āOkay, killer, maybe just lay off them a couple days. Do you have any questions?ā
āI donāt think so; not my first sprained ankle.ā
āYeah, I bet.ā He nods and gives your thigh a squeeze that definitely doesnāt strike you as completely professional. His hands are bigger than you realized when he came in, fingers strong and calloused. āIāll go ahead and process your discharge.ā
You give him a smile that makes him want to dive into whatever pretty Barbie world you materialized from. āThanks, Dr. Abbot.ā
Despite his better judgment, he smirks. āCall me Jack.ā
āOkay; I will.ā You bite your lower lip and meet his eyes. āBy the way, Jack,ā you say softly, eyes teasing as he carefully latches your anklet, āif you asked me on a date, Iād say yes.ā
He grins at you, surprised and adorable, and says, āHow about I walk you out?ā
āIād like that a lot.ā As you reapply your lip gloss and collect your purse, you realize, āShit, I left my jacket at the club.ā
Voice going a little stronger and more tender now ā protective, your brain provides ā he says, āWait here a sec; Iāll grab mine for you.ā Before you can protest or question him, he disappears, returning surprisingly fast with a fleece-lined Carhartt. He guides it over your arms and then keeps his hand at the center of your back. āHere. Keep it warm for me a few days, then you can return it on our date Saturday. Phone number's in the pocket.ā
Jack just about loses consciousness when he spots you getting out of your Uber outside the restaurant he picked for your date. Your searching eyes havenāt landed on him yet, so he lets himself gawk for a second, if only to avoid doing it too much when youāre within reach.Ā
The outfit hugging you like a second skin is a baby pink two-piece set made up of another tiny skirt (although this one covers more than a quarter of your thigh) and a tight cropped sweater, topped off with a fuzzy coat and another set of sky-high heels that make your ass look downright biteable. The idea of a sweater being cut in half strikes Jack as a bit contradictory, but he certainly isnāt going to complain about the inch of your soft stomach it reveals. He also decides to hold back a remark about the slight bruising of your ankle, reminding himself that heās here as a date, not a doctor. Itās a slightly more structured heel, at least, which is a small victory.
When your eyes meet, you smile wide, skip up to him right away, and throw your arms around him like youāve known each other for yours. You place a warm, familiar kiss on his cheek and say, āYou look super sexy, Jack.ā
āAnd you lookā¦ā His voice trails away as his eyes consume you completely. Compared to his white button down and black slacks, a safe and unintimidating first date outfit for him, youāre scrumptious. Trying not to let himself actually get insecure about the disparity, he jokes, āYou sure youāre here to see me in that outfit?ā
āYup! Picked out the necklace just for you.ā You present the heartbeat charm and itās basically an invitation to stare down at your tits, so Jack gives in. Heās only human, after all. āThis was the most medical-y thing I had short of stealing Parkerās stethoscope and bedazzling it.ā
He reaches out and toys with it for a second, smiling at the idea that you got dressed thinking about him. āVery cute. Like you.ā
You squeeze his bicep, definitely noting its firmness beneath your fingers, and give a tittering laugh. āKeep talking like that and tonight will go very well for you.ā
Guiding you by your lower back, he says, āLetās get inside; you must be freezing.ā
You shake your head. āCardi once said āa hoe never gets cold.āā
āWhatās a Cardi?ā
You giggle ā and, for some reason, he doesnāt feel condescended to when you make fun of him. āI have so much to teach you, Jack.ā
The restaurantās fancier than Jack would usually go to, but he wanted to impress you. The past few days of texting had been some of the easiest of his life ā and he doesnāt even like texting. Youāre just so sincere and so enthusiastic, qualities seriously lacking in Jackās sarcastic, misanthropic life. If opposites attract, then youāre the most attractive thing heās ever laid eyes on.
As he pulls your chair out for you, Jack shakes his head at himself and sighs, āYou know, I havenāt been on a date in months ā a year, maybe ā so youāre going to have to forgive me for being rusty.ā
He settles across from you. Leaning on your elbows in a way that makes your cleavage downright ridiculous, you reply, āYouāre a hot doctor; why havenāt you been dating?ā
After placing orders for wine and appetizers ā he chooses for you, which you try not to find as sexy as it undeniably is ā he shrugs and flirts, āGuess I was just waiting for the right girl to tumble into my ER on a pair of six inch heels.ā
āPlease, I know Iām definitely not your usual type.ā
āI donāt have a type.ā
āEveryone has a type.ā
āNot me.ā He decides itās better to get this one out of the way sooner rather than later: āOnly woman I ever loved was my late wife and Iāve never been with anyone like her, so I donāt think I do.ā
Your ankle hooks with his underneath the table as you search his faraway features. āTell me about her.ā
Thatās not where he expected you to go. Not where anybodyās gone with it before. Part of why he doesnāt date much anymore is the constant presence of Rachel. Heāll never be over her completely and he always figured that would get in the way of another woman being willing to stake a claim on his life.
But here you are. Looking genuinely curious. Sympathetic.
Sincere.
Like you always are.
So Jack sighs, sips his wine, and thinks for a second. Then he lets a smile drift to his lips at the memories. āShe wasā¦exceptionally fun. Life of every party. The only reason I ever got on a dance floor. A great listener, no matter what I had to say. And she always called me on my shit. She was every good thing that Iām not.ā
You watch him for a long time. Your eye contact is so intimate that the waiter is hanging back with your appetizers in hand. After a beat, you tell him, āSounds like you have a type to me.ā
Youāre fun. Youāre a great listener. Rachel may never have worn your tiny clothes or oversized jewelry or weapons-grade nails, but itās undeniable that sheād like you. A smile flirts with the corner of his lips. āYeah, maybe I do.ā
Once the waiterās brought the first course of food, you reach across the table and take Jackās free hand in yours. As you rub the back of his hand with your thumb, he notices youāve gotten a fresh manicure, little heartbeat symbols on each of your fingers, and has to suppress a smile. You had your nails done just for him. Just for this date. āHow long have you been alone now?ā
The way you ask ā not āwhen did she dieā or āhow long have you been singleā ā has something fuzzy warming up in his chest. Like being known. āIt was a decade this last year.ā
āGod, Iām so sorry, Jack.ā
A beat passes. Both of you reach for the same piece of bruschetta and your fingers touch again. He lets you grab it, opting for another one, and then rubs your foot under the table with his. He doesnāt know whatās come over him in your presence. Robby would have a field day with this: Dr. Jack Abbot playing footsies.
While he watches the glorious expression you make as you enjoy the mix of balsamic and ricotta and tomato, he asks, āIt doesnāt bother you that Iām a widower?ā
Your eyebrows pinch together in genuine confusion. Your tongue chases a bit of ricotta from the corner of your lip and it makes Jack lose his mind a little bit. āWhy would that bother me? Youāre enough of a catch that someone already married you. Youāve been vetted by a fellow woman; I take her recommendation very seriously.ā
Jack snickers, āSheād like that idea.ā
From there, the two of you fall into an easy rhythm, sipping your way through a shared bottle of expensive white wine that goes perfectly with the fish dish Jack recommends. He tells you about his time in the army (briefly) and his time in medicine (much less briefly). You go through your whole ridiculous family and gaggle of friends you insist heāll love meeting.
Itās all going exceptionally well until you mention that you kind of miss having roommates, at which point Jack gets surprised. Every single person your age he knows in the city has at least one roommate if not a whole slew of them like poor Javadi and Whitaker. He clarifies carefully, āYou have your own place?ā
āYup,ā you beam, clearly proud of yourself, ābought it a couple years ago now.ā
He almost spits out his wine. āBought?ā
āWell, yeah, I have my own money.ā Looking over your wine glass, you prod, tone light but question serious, āDid you think I was, like, a gold digger or something?ā
āI donāt know.ā He admits sheepishly, āHonestly, I figured you were a waitress or an heiress or, I donāt know, an unemployed hot girl with a trust fund.ā
Pointing your fork at him, you reply, āThatās pretty sexist, doc, dontcha think? Like hot girls who like pink and sparkles canāt be successful and financially independent?ā
Heās taken aback by not only your honesty and willingness to call him out but your sheer confidence in it. Thereās not a single doubt in your mind about how you deserve to be treated, spoken to, or even thought about. āIām sorry for assuming.ā
Then you shrug and give him a sad sort of smile, looking soft and vulnerable. Like youād been expecting better from him. āPeople always assume about me; Iām used to it.ā
He never wants to see you making a face like that again, especially if heās the one who caused it. He reaches across the table and takes your hand. āHey, look, Iām checking my assumptions at the door from now on. Iām genuinely sorry.ā
That makes you perk up again. āYeah? Promise?ā
Bending so that he can kiss your hand, he insists, āI swear. I want to know every single thing about you, starting with what it is you do to be both exceptionally cute and financially independent.ā
āI forgive you, then.ā Humming contentedly as you finish another bite of perfect halibut, you tell him, āI have a boutique downtown, basically like a show room for local artisans. Lots of skincare, jewelry, candles- Oh! And we have a new cerma- circam- ceramicist ā sorry, I can never say that one ā this month who does these super cute little salt and pepper shakers of famous movie couples.ā
āAnd youāre the owner?ā
āYeah, I am. I started with this blog thingy featuring local artists and that kinda blew up and after a couple years I had enough money from ads and sponsors and stuff to let me open the storefront in a good location. We do pretty well.ā
As you go on, Jack finds himself falling into the way your eyes shimmer when you talk about your passion. Heās spent so many years talking to doctors and white-collar professionals that heās forgotten what it sounds like when someone has a true connection to their own life. Your smile is infectious, your laugh even more so.
After a while, he realizes heās gotten so lost in listening to you talk that heās missed what you were actually saying. āWhat did you say the name was?ā
āKismet; itās actually pretty close to your hospital, maybe five blocks.
āRight, I know that place.ā Jack grins as he realizes and tells you, āI bought a gift from there last Motherās Day. My mom still wears the perfume one of your employees told me to buy every day.ā
Your squeal is adorable. Devastatingly so. āThat makes me so happy. You should stop by sometime and say hi.ā
āI definitely will,ā he replies, meaning it. Heās imagining himself bringing you flowers like some romantic because thatās the kind of man youāre making him want to be. āAny chance you saved room for dessert?ā
āI always do.ā You lean in with a secretive tone on your lips. āI have a monster sweet tooth.ā
Jack laughs and orders a chocolate mousse. āFitting.ā
You bat your eyelashes. āBecause Iām just so sweet?ā
Deciding that heās going to try out this whole sincerity thing youāve got going on, Jack smiles and replies, āActually, yes.ā
[summary: no matter what your dad might think, the spreadsheet doesn't lie]
[a/n: this series is going to be incredibly self indulgent. i'm writing this for me, and I'm kind of really proud. no matter how this turns out. hope you enjoy :)]
Monday is a fucking bitch. You wake up groggy as hell, with your body refusing to cooperate an inch. Monday isnāt any different from any other of the week. The same grogginess. The same frustration. The same crushing, desperate plea from your body to stay and rot in bed. Thereās nothing for you out there. Not anymore, at least. Youāre a failure, and reminded of it everyday.Ā
Wait. Stop. You have to stop thinking those thoughts and believing them. Remember theyāre just thoughts. Okay. Thank you, and goodbye useless thoughts. This suffering serves no purpose. Deep breath in. Deep breath out. Repeat. Repeat.Ā
Your hand reaches out to grab your buzzing phone, turning it on displays a bright light that reads 5:35am. Eyes squint to adjust to the offence against your pupils. Monday, the 13th.Ā
Scroll through your feeds. Answer texts from Emily. Check your email. Sitting up, you feel around your bed for the earbuds that fell out of your ears overnight. Small hard lumps touch your fingers and you grasp them. Arising from the safety and comfort of your bed, as you get ready for the day.
Brush your teeth, take a shower. Get dressed, moisturizer and deodorant. A spritz of perfume. Grabbing your comforter and fixing it over the bed to make it look neat. Fluff the pillows.Ā
Meow, you hear outside your bedroom door. Opening it reveals your cat, Reginald. A true gentleman, here to remind you that he would like his breakfast served, preferably on time and before 6am. He sits so prim and proper in the hallway, impatiently waiting for you.
Crouching down, you pick up his small potato sack of a body. Placing him to rest against your shoulder. You make your way to the kitchen of your 2-bedroom apartment. You pause at your Dadās bedroom door, putting an ear against it. Loud slumbering snores can be heard through the wood. You remember him coming home last night, but you donāt know if he ate, or just went straight to bed. You were in your room trying to study for an upcoming exam this week. The creak of the front door opening alerted you to his arrival home. A couple of shuffling sounds and the closing of his bedroom door was the end of it.
The full plate of cellophane covered lasagna on the kitchen island, tells you that no, your Dad didnāt eat last night. But maybe heāll eat breakfast this morning. He never works this day, ever since Dr. Adamson died. When you look at him, you know that itās still a wound that never stopped bleeding. And the day drains all the blood from his body through that opening in his heart.Ā
Maybe youāll finally be able to spend the day together. Itās been so long since youāve spent quality time with him. You understand that his job is important, and that he saves lives every day. But youāre important too, arenāt you?Ā
Conversations are had between doorways, texts, or voicemails. Theyāre short and brisk. You actually see your Dad, maybe a total of an hour a day. 30 minutes in the morning if he eats breakfast, and 30 minutes at night if heās not too tired to eat dinner. Sometimes you donāt even get to see him at all. Both of your schedules never allowing a time to interact. Him, busy with his job. You, busy with college. Thatās the excuse you use, anyway. If anybody bothered asking.Ā
Independent. Thatās what youāve been called by your peers and elders since you were old enough to remember. Itās always just been you and your Dad. Had to be independent. Had to be able to survive on your own for long periods of time. Dadās working a shift. Heās gonna be there a while.Ā
The sting of bacon fat on your hand brings you back to reality.Ā
You look at the clock hanging above the fridge. It reads 6:30.Ā
The bacon looks crisp and ready to be taken off the heat. You grab a pair of tongs and plate the bacon. Taking two eggs from the fridge, you crack them over the pan, letting them drop and sizzle on the leftover bacon fat. The toaster makes a sound, and you look over to see that the bread inside is done, and sprung up.
Watching the sunny side eggs sizzle, you hear familiar shuffling sounds. Strange, he normally sleeps for longer if he has a day off. You didnāt expect your Dad to be up for another half hour. He sounds hurried. A prickling, heaviness, crawls onto your shoulders. They involuntarily make you hunch. You massage and roll them, in a poor attempt to shake off the oncoming dread.
Itās his day off. Itās your day off, too. Youāre going to spend time together. Finally.Ā
He steps into the shared kitchen, dining, and lounge area with a hastiness to his step. He was wearing scrubs underneath his zip up hoodie. Making a beeline to his work bag, he greets you with a, āMorning, sweetheartā.
Your eyes furrow, the dread becomes a sinkhole in your throat. You cough to clear it before replying, āMorning. Dad, where are you going? You never work todayā.
Heās still rearranging the things in his bag. He wonāt look at you. āI know, honey. But they called and asked me to come in. Theyāre short on staff, and itās gonna be a busy dayā.
āTheyāre always short on staff. And itās busy every dayā.
He just chuckles, as if youāre telling a joke. And not telling him a statement.Ā
He moves back to his bedroom, presumably to grab another item. You face away from the stove and toward the hallway, calling out, āYouāre still going to eat breakfast with me, right? You didnāt eat the lasagna I put out last nightā.
āIām sorry, sweetie, I canāt. Iām running late already, and I need to goā, he shouts back to you. Remorse isnāt what you hear, but an awkwardness instead.Ā
He rushes out of his room, straight to the doorway, putting his airpods and sunglasses on. Opens the front door, and leaves with a parting, āBye sweetie, have a good day!ā
A slam is heard, as he shuts the door on his way out. The smell of charcoal wafts into your nose. Hurriedly, you turn back to the stove. The eggs are burnt.Ā
Reginald, forgotten by both you and your Dad, makes figure eights around your legs. Butting his head against them. Telling you that, at least, heās here.Ā
You pick him up, and press his little warm body against your. Burying your face against his soft fur. Wetness gathers in your eyes, and itchiness in your throat. A small sob escapes from your lips. You squeeze Reginald, just a touch more.Ā
ā
A short cry session later, and you get your shit back together. Just because your plans for the day were disrupted, doesn't mean you donāt have other things that need to be done. Thereās a list of errands to be settled today, and you have a practice lab session in the afternoon.Ā
Turning on your tablet, you review the lists of tasks to be completed today. You open a spreadsheet folder, containing an ins and outs record for both Reginald and your Dad. After writing down what food Reginald was served for breakfast, and how much he ate, you open your Dadās.Ā
01/10/2025Ā
Breakfast: Eggs and Bacon [X]
Dinner: Spaghetti [X]
01/11/2025
Breakfast: Pancakes and Fruit [X]
Dinner: Steak, Mash, and Asparagus [X]
01/12/2025
Breakfast: Oatmeal with Granola and Yogurt [ā ]
Dinner: Lasagna [X]
01/13/2025
Breakfast: Eggs and Bacon [X]
Heās been running on nothing. Basically hasnāt eaten at home for days. Is he even eating at work? With how busy he is, you doubt he even leaves the ER to drink water. Is he even drinking water? Do you need to start monitoring that too? How would you even be able to tell if he drank any or just dumped it out? Assess skin turgor, maybe. Asking your dad what colour his pee is and getting a renal panel might be too much. You donāt think you could trust him to be honest if you asked him how much water he drinks. Coffee doesnāt count, thatās a diuretic. Whatever water you drink from it gets peed out anyways.Ā
STOP. Stop. stop.
Deep breath in. Deep breath out. In. Out. In. Out.
Okay, if he doesnāt want to eat at home, thatās fine. He should at least have something filling and homemade to eat at work then. Where he doesnāt have to worry about whether it's contaminated with hospital infections or not.Ā
Check the time. 11:30. Close enough to lunch. You can make a quick stop by the ER to deliver him some of the lasagna you made last night. Heat it up in the oven, pack it, stop by the ER, errands, and then to practice lab.Ā
The lasagna gets a quick blast in the microwave, before being packed in a thermal lunch bag. You shrug a light coat on, and grab your shoulder bag.
One last glance at Reginald before you leave, āBye, Reggie. Behave yourself, okay?ā
He opens his eyes to give you the most judgemental expression a cat could muster. You smile and peck him on his head.Ā
You leave the apartment and make your way to your Dad.
ā
You donāt visit the ER often. Could count your visits there on one hand. The bright light bothers you to no end. And the busy noise and endless chatter makes a buzz in your head thatās hard to ignore. This place is a kind of hell. Lives are lost here, but theyāre mostly saved. You wonder if thatās why your Dad keeps coming back. Because maybe he feels that, if he leaves, the scales will tip to the other side. Does the God complex come before, or after he became a doctor?
You bypass the waiting room, thereās no point in waiting to be seen for a medical issue when yours isnāt an emergency, unless assessed by a professional that youāre a danger to yourself or others. If you stay too long at the ER, you just might be. Best to be in and out then.
Making your way to the nurseās station, you spot a comforting face.Ā
āDana!ā
Dana Evans swivels her attention to focus on you. Her eyes widen slightly, in recognition.
āSweetheart?ā, she calls out. āWhat are you doing here?ā
Her perfectly plucked brows are making groves between themselves. Seeing you here is a rare occurrence. Like a unicorn sighting. She knows how much you hate visiting the ER. Hates that it takes your Dad away from you. Sheās scared you might be here for something serious.Ā
āIām here to drop off lunch for Dad,ā you explain. āDo you know where he is?ā
āIām sorry honey, but heās kind of all over the place today. Why donāt you leave it here with me and Iāll make sure he gets it.āĀ
You pout, and pause.
Dana catches it, and with concern, asks āWhatās wrong, hon?ā
Your eyes flutter back and forth from Danaās eyes, to her scrubs, the desk, her ID badge, and back to her face. A sigh is released, and you look her in the eyes. āDad hasnāt been eating well at home for the past few days. Or like, at all.ā
You take out your phone and pull up your Dadās meal record. Handing the phone over to show her. āSee? Heās had almost nothing at home for the past couple of days. And I donāt know if he eats lunch at work. Even if he does, that canāt be enough for the amount of energy he burns hereā.
Dana hands back the phone to you and purses her lips. āKiddo, I know youāre worried, but donāt you think keeping a record for what your Dad eats is a little invasive?ā
āI know, but if I didnāt keep a record, then I wouldnāt know that heās been too busy and tired to even meet his basic metabolic needs. Besides, I keep an ins and outs record for Reggie.ā
With raised eyebrows, Dana gives you a look and admits, āYou got a point thereā.
She takes your hand in hers, and the thermal lunch bag with it. āOkay, how about this. I promise to get this to your Dad. And, to take a picture of him eating it. Iāll send it to you during his lunch break. Heās due for one soon anywaysā.
Warmth and gratitude fills and overwhelms you. Your arms wrap around Dana in a tight embrace. You press your face to her scrubs, and you can smell antiseptic and hand sanitizer.Ā
āThank you so much Danaā, you mumble into her clothes. āYou donāt know how much this meansā.
She returns your embrace with the experience of a mother, whoās hugged her children the same way more than a hundred times over. She rubs your back in gentle circular motions. āOf course honey, itās no trouble at allā, she reassures you.
Pulling away from each other, Dana takes a good look at you. Holds you by the shoulders, and declares, āNow get outta here, before you start smelling like hospitalā.
You giggle, and Dana sees how exhausted you look. There are bags, deep under your eyes. Despite worrying about your fatherās dietary habits, you should worry about yours too. Cheeks, more sunken than when she saw you last.Ā
Walking to the exit, you turn back to look at the man made disaster of the ER one more time before. And then you leave. There are errands to do after all. Someone has to get them done.
ā
Dr. Robby wouldnāt say this day has been horrible, but he wouldnāt call it peachy fuckin keen either. Gloria on his ass all day. Students here for their rotation. Collins is acting weird. And he canāt even get a minute for himself to take a goddamn piss.
āRobby!ā He hears Dana call his name out from the nurseās station. Her arm is raised, and itās holding up a bag.Ā
He squints. It looks familiar.Ā
He jogs up to Dana, āWhatās up?ā
Dana gives him a look, āYour kid was here earlier to drop this offā.
He looks at the lunch bag that she holds in front of his chest. He grabs it and places it on a nearby desk. Unzipping it reveals a container of lasagna, still hot. Love, affection, gratitude. They all bubble and rise in him. When he got home last night and saw the lasagna, he was so excited to eat it. His kid makes the best lasagna heās ever had. He knows that they make it with love. Make it because they know itās his favourite. But then he reached his bed, and promptly passed out.Ā
He always felt bad whenever he skipped a meal at home. It was really the only family time he ever spent with his child anymore. He really couldnāt call them a child. They were a young adult now, and in college. All grown up, and it happened so fast. One day, he was packing their lunches. And now, apparently they were packing his.
āHoney says you havenāt been eating at home,ā Dana states. āAre you doing okay?ā
Robby looks up from the lunch bag, and brushes off Danaās concerns. āHm? Yeah, yeah Iām fine. Iāve just been forgetting to eat every now and thenā.
āRobby, 3 days of not eating a solid meal isnāt āevery now and thenā. Your kid is worriedā, she exclaims. āAnd did you know they has an ins spreadsheet on you?ā
A spreadsheet? On him? He puts his hands in his pockets and rocks back and forth on his feet. āAre you sure itās on me? I know they have one for Reggie, ever since he got diagnosed with CKDā.
āIn big bold letters, the title read āDadās Mealsā. So yeah, Iām pretty sure it was for youā.
He could feel an oncoming headache building in his cranium. Robby takes his hands out of his pockets to rub his face. āMm, I should probably talk to them about thatā.
Dana quickly checks her nurseās watch, āItās past lunch. Go. I promised your offspring you would eat, and I need evidence that you actually didā.
He chuckles, feeling a bit mad. āYāknow I would love to actually take a lunch break. If it wasnāt for thisā.
He gestures to the chaos of their shared circus of a workplace.
With the will of a charge nurse whoās tired of all his bullshit, Dana grabs the lunch bag and shoves it into her colleagueās arms. āTake this, and go. Iāll cover for you. And take a picture of you eating it so I can send it to your kid. They worry enough about your assā.Ā
A smile forms on his face, and he says before departing to eat his well overdue lunch, āYouāre the best, Danaā.
As he walks away to devour his lasagna made with love, he hears Dana shout to him āAnd donāt you ever forget it!ā
Synopsis: You and Robby spent seven long years together until the day it ended. Youāve done your best to create space; to become invisible. You canāt miss what you donāt see. Unfortunately, the universe (Gloria and the Board of Directors) seemed to have missed the memo.
