Heyy don't know if you write ship related stuff but a fic where the reader is Robby's teenage daughter/child and Dennis and Robby start dating and Dennis is really nervous about what reader thinks of him and trying to be like step dad in a way and he thinks reader hates him but he maybe finds out by Robby that she actually thinks he's pretty chill and they have a lot in common like they are interested in similar things or something would be really cute
Completely understandable if you pass on this idea because it doesn’t mesh with you, no inspiration to write it, i get it! Thank you for hearing me out at least tho! Here is the idea: starting pre season 1 of the Pitt through season 2. Dr. Robby and Dr. abbot are married or in a long established relationship. When they were residents there was this kid that they would see every so often that would hang around the hospital because his mother was on hospice or something (kids like 12 or something no older) Jack and Robby kinda have a soft spot for him. The kid wants to be a doctor to help people but he looks up to Jack and Robby. Then when he is 18 he goes to be a combat medic in the army (like Jack). *random but the kid is like a perfect mix in looks and personality of Jack and Robby. He did not keep in touch with Jack and Robby after his mom died but they had a major impact on him ) anyways before he deploys (so after he’s in the army for a minute) he has to go to the ED for something idk and sees Robby or Jack or both and it’s like woah for them (they just turned attendings right before covid) they are really proud of the kid. The kid ask if he can write them because he has no one else to write and he was told it’s good to have someone to write too. Of course Rabbot is like absolutely. Through two years or whatever the kid because their kid. Kid decides he wants to still be a doctor and gets out (maybe medically idk) and goes to med school (he did college while he was in. Wicked smart ) Rabbot of course are their for the kid whether that means the kid (not a kid anymore ) lives with them or what and then when he’s an R2 like Mel (he knows Mel they are best friends or something more, they were at the VA together) both transfer to PTMC and Rabbot is like finally we get our kid (maybe funny like custody dispute on if the kid goes on nights or days) idk i just think it would be a cute fanfic!
Hi!
While I do like the idea, I unfortunately do not write rabbot or male readers. Hopefully there is someone out who will write it or even possibly yourself.
I love you writing for the Pitt! Especially the platonic writing! It’s so hard to find those! I have a platonic writing idea but i think it might be multiple parts and idk if you wanna do that? If so let me know tho! I think you would be awesome with it!
Hi! Thank you so much <3
I’m happy to hear whatever idea you have but I can’t promise that I’ll actually write it. Sometimes I just don’t click with ideas/requests plus I have a quite long list of requests as well.
Any kind of frank langdon angsty teen daughter thing. Maybe she comes in Drunk in the ER?
PAIRINGS: Frank Langdon X Daughter!Reader
TW: mentions of franks drug use. underage drinking and weed use. reader gets injured by a sparkler. not proof-read. quite angsty. mind the warning. 4.7k words
AN: this took me like a week to write which is ridiculous but here it is. i really dk if i will write a 2nd part for this because i left the ending open but it depends
Ten months ago your life changed in a way you could have never expected. Your dad was on leave from his job and was entering rehab, leaving your mother to care for you and your younger siblings completely alone until he returned.
When he came home that day, later than unusual after helping with the PittFest victims with shoulders carrying more than just the trauma he had dealt with in the ED. Tanner and Penny were fast asleep upstairs while you stayed up late with your mom, wanting to wait until your dad returned home before you went to bed but it didn't take long for your dad to break down and tell you the truth. He ate the dinner your mom prepared, shoveling forkful after forkful mechanically into his mouth, fatigue weighing down every movement of his. At first you thought his quiet and withdrawn behaviour was from his exhaustion until he pushed his plate away from him after he was finished eating, stared at you and your mom before spilling the truth.
"I've been stealing drugs from work."
You sit in stunned silence for a minute before your mom manages to utter a single shocked 'What?' out.
Your dad heaves a sigh, scrubbing his hands over his face and suddenly appearing five years older, "Remember when I helped my parents move and I was too cheap for movers?"
Your mom nods and you remember it as well, he had taken a week off of work and spent the entirety of it curled up on the couch or in bed, in too much pain to move.
"You tweaked your back. You went to a doctor, though. Got medicine for it."
"I did but the prescription ran out and it hurt so much. I woke up in pain, I worked in pain…every single moment was so painful. I couldn't even carry Penny or Tanner without my back screaming in protest." Your dad confesses, "I did a stupid, stupid thing. I know that but I was weaning myself off. I was getting better, I was."
You mom continues to stare at him completely dumbfounded, struggling to truly understand what was being said to her and trying to get a grasp on the many repercussions and their ripple effects this could have.
"You were stealing drugs? From the hospital?!"
Your moms voice was harsh and disbelieving. She already had a lot on her plate; two kids under four and you, a teenager who for the most part was well behaved, also had plenty of rebellious lash outs and arguments with your parents. Your mom was a stay-at-home mom, meaning you relied on your dads salary but that could all go up in smoke depending on what happens with your dad.
"What's going to happen now?" Your mom continues, "Are you going to lose your job? What are we going to do?"
"I don't know. I'm not sure." Your dad sighs, "The hospital has this rehab program I can do, it's discreet. I'll be on reduced pay but it'll be enough for us, we can survive on it."
Your mom just shakes her head and sighs, pushing away from the table and leaving the room, muttering as she leaves, "I can't do this right now."
It was just you and your dad now and you struggled to recognise the man in front of you. For your entire life, you had never seen him falter. Sure he had cried when your younger siblings were born, but he had always managed to juggle his busy job at the hospital along with raising a family pretty well. He always tried to keep everyone happy and maybe his attempts to do so were misguided, the dog snoozing on the couch was proof of that but behind everyone of his actions was sincerity.
"Maybe you should sleep on the sofa tonight," You suggest with a sympathetic shoulder shrug.
Your dad huffs a laugh as he agrees, "Yeah, that's probably the best idea."
Your dad entered rehab shortly after that day, inpatient at first, away from the family home for a couple of months. Tanner asked questions everyday and night and Penny could clearly feel the absence of her father even if she couldn't verbalise it. Your mom had picked up a part-time job in the evenings even though your dad's capped salary was enough, she wanted something to put into savings, just in case something bad happened.
You're caught in the crossfire by your dads absence, having to quit your afterschool clubs and stop hanging out with your friends since you had to return straight home to babysit your siblings while your mom went to work.
As the weeks passed, your resentment grew for the whole situation. Your friends had stopped hanging out with you altogether, avoiding you at school and ignoring your text messages turning you into a loner. Now the only people you ever talked to were your brother and sister–one of which couldn't even talk at all and the other was only three years old. You barely spoke to your mom, she was always halfway out of the door when you returned home, only having enough time to tell you to be safe and that she loved you. She messaged you sporadically through the night but they were only check ups on the younger children, making sure they ate their dinner and went to bed on time, never asking how you were doing.
You don't think you were ever asked how you were doing by anyone. You were simply forgotten amongst everything else, left to drift aimlessly.
When your dad finally returned home after two months, you hoped that it meant that things would eventually go back to what it once was. Or at least, somewhat like that. He was still in rehab, though he had transitioned to outpatient which meant he was home every night and most days but his return hadn't changed anything. You were still expected to look after your younger siblings after school and on the weekends when your mom worked and your grades were slipping, between school and babysitting, you were too tired to do your homework and you barely paid enough attention in school anyway.
By the time six months had passed, things had settled back into what it once was. Almost. Your mom had quit her job, she and your dad went to couples counseling and you were no longer the third parent but the damage was already done.
Abandoned by your previous group of friends, you had been pulled into a new group, a group of older kids who skipped class to smoke weed and drink alcohol in the field behind the school.
At first you simply sat with them, not drinking or smoking but as the weeks passed and your home life continued to deteriorate, you slowly indulged yourself.
It started off with just a couple of puffs of weed one of your new friends had, then someone offered you a beer at some point, and that's what you did after school for a couple of weeks. You were lying to your parents, telling them you were at some extra curricular club, guilting them by reminding them that you initially dropped them when your dad went to rehab.
You even went as far as bringing extra clothes with you so you didn't come back home smelling of weed.
The beers after school slowly turned into vodka in your bottle during the day. Your teachers didn't suspect a thing as you sipped from the bottle throughout the day, always titering on the edge of being buzzed.
You had been skipping most of your classes for weeks now, only attending enough to keep up the barest of appearances. Letters had been sent home from your teachers that had been concerned by your sudden grade drop but your home life was still chaotic enough that you could intercept them before either of your parents got the chance to.
Weeks of this behaviour developed into months and now here you were, fourth of July. It was your dads first day back at work and your mom was taking your younger siblings to some day festival so they gave you the go-ahead to hang out with your friends.
It was a recipe for disaster honestly, you had been drinking since noon. Downing drink after drink on half empty stomach, you had also been smoking as well, getting high. Being high and drunk weren't a combination you were unfamiliar with but the addition of being out in the sun all day wasn't doing you any favors.
You were playing around with a sparkler. It was still early, the sun still hanging high in the sky but that didn't matter to a bunch of intoxicated teens who just wanted to fool around.
Your reaction time was skewed so you didn't realise how low the sparkler was burning until it was burning your hand. You flinch in shock, dropping the sparkler but it's too late as your hand throbs in pain.
"Ah fuck!" You cry out as the pain engulfs your hand, "Oh fuck, oh fuck."
Your friends rush over, all of them wincing as they look at your hand that is beginning to blister.
They all began to speak at once, talking over each other;
"Oh fuck dude"
"You need to go to hospital"
"No she doesn't she's fine"
"They're gonna have to cut the whole hand off man"
"No they're not– hey, don't listen to him"
"Should we call an ambulance or what?"
"It's not like we can drive– someone order a uber and get some ice as well"
"No! No…" Your dad's medical advice about burns rang clear in your alcohol and drug intoxicated head, causing you to finally speak out, "No ice. That will make it worse. Just order an uber."
One of your friends, Alice, gets in the uber with you as the rest of the group goes back to what they were doing. Alice offers to stay by your side throughout the rest of the night but you only ask her to stay until you get to the hospital. You were both underage and under the influence, something that would get you into serious trouble and you saw no point in both of you getting into trouble.
Your heart drops when the uber pulls up outside of the PTMC, you were on the other side of the town and you knew there were at least one other emergency department between here and there.
"Sorry girls," The taxi driver tells you, "Westbridge was closed and Presby was further out."
For a moment, you think about asking them just to take you to Presby but you knew that would just cause questions from Alice and you were a minor anyway so at least one of your parents would have called, so it saves you dad from having to leave work.
"Thank you, I'm fine from here," You thank Alice who is quick to shake her head in refusal,
"I'll help you check in then I'll leave."
You don't argue with her, following her as you thanked the driver and exited the car. You go through the brief security at the entrance, going through the scanners before joining the long line of people already in the waiting room. You initially feared that you would be clocked as soon as you walked in, people would be able to smell the weed and booze on you but instead the stench of sweat and disinfectant cloud the room. The waiting room is hot, overcrowded and unventilated, with no windows or ac unit with only a small wall-mounted fan recirculating the old stale air.
Your hand aches in pain as you wait in line. It grows slowly from a deep throb into deep sharp pangs that zip across the surface. It hurts to even twitch a finger, your skin feeling tight and extra sensitive, the movement sending another wave of pain on top of the existing throbbing one.
Despite the line being long, it moves quickly. You're given a clipboard and a patient passport. You find a free corner with Alice who fills out the clipboard for you before you return it to the clerk. You give Alice a half-hug goodbye, watching as she leaves before you return to the corner, slumping down to the ground and resigning yourself to the wait until you're finally seen.
Cassie McKay lets out a soft sigh as she leaves the beside of her most recently assigned patient, heading towards where Robby was hunched over a computer, rapidly typing something.
"Hey, you got a moment?" She asks as she reaches him.
"Sure," Robby responds, still typing away, "What's wrong?"
"I've got a sixteen year old with moderate burns to the hand from a sparkler but she smells strongly of cannabis and I can smell alcohol on her breath." Cassie details, "I ordered a blood test and a urinalysis and I gave her something to take the edge off of the pain but she's refusing to give me a number for her parents or any other guardian."
"What is she saying?" Robby asks as he finally looks away from the computer, "Scared of her parents finding out? It's an automatic social services call since she's a minor."
"That's my guess. I told her I would be able to help her with her hand but she can't be discharged without a parent or a legal guardian and if she still refuses then we'll have to get the police involved and I'd really like to avoid that."
Robby nods in agreement before he logs out of the computer and stands up straight, motioning McKay to lead the way.
He stands a few steps back as McKay introduces him, asking you permission to have him there.
"This is Dr Robby, he's the chief attending here. Do you mind if he speaks to you while I treat your hand?"
You eye him apprehensively before eventually slowly nodding. You knew who he was, your dad spent years talking about Dr Robinavitch, every day he would come back after work with a new story to gush about, excitedly talking about whatever miracle Dr Robby had done that day.
"Do you want to tell me what happened?" Dr Robby asked as he pulled a rolling stool up to your bedside. He's on your left hand side, successfully distracting you as Dr McKay worked on your right hand which was now numb.
"I was with my friends at a bonfire and I was distracted I guess, too busy talking to notice how low the sparkler was burning. My hand was too high up on the stick, burnt my hand," You tell a half truth before looking over at where McKay was working on your hand, "How bad is it?"
"You've got a moderate burn, which is why it was so painful but from the assessment I did earlier shows me it wasn't very deep, plus you've got good movement and circulation in your fingers so all I'll need to do is clean it out and wrap it up."
"Hey, I need you to talk to me for a minute," Robby brings your attention back over to him, "We're taking blood and urine samples, so we'll find out anyway but it's best to tell us the truth now so we can help you."
You softly sigh as you fix your gaze on a loose piece of thread from the blanket that rested over your lap, "I was high and drunk. Too drunk to realise what I was doing with the stupid sparkler."
"Were these friends of yours older? Is that how you got the drugs and alcohol?"
"No, they're friends from school. I don't know how they got the stuff." You tell him before pausing briefly to gather your thoughts, "Are you going to call the police?"
Robby is quick to assure your worries, "No. No police but social services will have to visit, do an assessment with your parents to make sure something like this never happens again."
"My parents?" You flinch, your uninjured hand clenching the blanket into your fist, "I–I…"
Robby interprets your reaction the wrong way, "...Are you safe at home?"
"I'm safe! I'm not getting abused or neglected," You assure, "But things have been difficult at home for a while and I don't want to make things worse."
"They won't be in trouble. The social worker will have a chat with you first, to get a clear full image of what's been happening, then they'll talk to them to figure out a plan that works for all of you."
"I just don't want things to get worse…I don't want my parents to get in trouble."
"I'm sure they would be more concerned that you're injured. No parent wants that." Robby gives your hand a comforting pat and slides a pen out of his pocket and grabs a spare piece of paper lying around, "How about you tell me your mom or dads number and I'll call them as Dr McKay finishes with your hand."
You knew that your dad was dreading coming back today, overhearing the conversations he had with your mom. He was worried about the reactions of his return from his colleagues, more specifically, from Dr Robby and if you dropped the sudden bomb that you were his kid right here, then you knew the rumors would circulate.
Doctor is caught stealing drugs from the hospital and on his return, his minor daughter is brought in drunk and high.
You scribble down your dad's number, not only was he nearby but it saved your mom from rushing over with Penny and Tanner.
As Robby leaves you're left with McKay who is just finishing up wrapping your hand. She tucks in the end piece before looking up at you with a soft motherly gaze, "No matter how hard your home life might be right now, I promise you, your parents want nothing more than having you happy and healthy."
Robby collapses into a chair at the charge station, taking the moment to relieve his feet for ten minutes. Dana slides him the results from the tests McKay ordered and he reads over them with a heavy frown before he pages the social worker on call that afternoon.
He picks up the phone and squints at the somewhat familiar number and dials the number the young girl gave him, it takes a few rings before it is picked up and a vaguely familiar voice answers.
"Hello?"
"Hello, I'm Dr Robinavitch and I'm calling–"
The voice interrupts him, "Robby?"
Robby frowned at the phone, "How do you know–"
"It's me, Frank."
"Frank?!"
Robby's head pops up from behind the desk and he spins around, looking for the senior resident, "Frank, where are you?"
"I'm here. I'm in the ED," Frank says just as he rounds the corner, easily finding Robby. He hangs up the phone as he approaches the attending, "What happened? Why are you calling me instead of paging me?"
Oh hell…
Family members coming into the pitt was the worst thing imaginable for the staff at PMTC, especially if said family member was their child. This wasn't just a mere child in the hospital incident, Robby also had to tell Frank that his daughter was drunk and high which would trigger a social services visit.
Robby suddenly understands what you meant by 'things have been difficult at home'. Langdon had been on leave for the last ten months and Robby had no doubt that their homelife was in a difficult spot. It could possibly even Frank's job on the line.
"I need to talk to you for a moment," Robby stands up and walks to the staff room, automatically expecting Frank to follow him.
"I've got patients-, did I do something wrong?" Frank questions but follows him.
"I called you because someone gave your number as an emergency contact," Robby starts after he closes the door behind him, motioning him to sit at the table with him, "Frank, your eldest daughter came into the ED with burns on her hands from a sparkler."
Frank jolts up and tries to bolt to the door, "My daughter–"
"Frank!" Robby grabs Frank and tugs him back into his seat, "Listen to me, she's fine. She has minor burns and is being treated by McKay but that's not what I brought you in here for."
Frank looks torn between bolting to his daughter and sticking around to listen to what Robby had to say.
"McKay had some suspicions when your daughter came in and ordered a few tests. Your daughter tested positive for weed and had a 0.08 BAC reading."
Frank's eyebrows shoot up, eyes bugging out as he jolts in his seat, his body automatically moving before his brain catches up.
"What are you talking about?! My-my kid doesn't drink or smoke," Frank scoffs, "She's a good kid. The best."
"I'm not saying otherwise Frank but the last ten months have been a lot for your family. Maybe this is her way of coping." Robby suggests.
"You can't be serious?" Frank barks out a laugh, rolling his eyes and shaking his head, "Sure things have been tough but she's been great throughout all of it. She looked after her siblings and helped take care of the house when I wasn't there. She's a good kid."
Robby sighed as he tried to get through to Frank, "Have you spoken to her? Like seriously sat down and talked since you got back from rehab? It sounds like she took a lot on you when you left and she sacrificed a lot. Maybe she got lost along the way."
"I can't– I can't do this right now," Frank shakes his head and stands, heading towards the door, "I want to see my daughter."
"She's in central four with McKay."
Robby groans when the door slams shut behind Frank and runs his hands over his face in exhaustion. Things like this were never easy but something like this stung even more so.
A social services visit could rock Frank's whole recovery and return to work process. And although Robby was still bitter from the betrayal of trust Frank had committed, when something like this, something involving their personal lives, they all had to put aside their differences.
McKay had left your side not so long ago, after finishing wrapping your hand and promised to return with a sandwich and a drink for you. So you are left alone, waiting for dad's arrival.
The blue privacy curtain around your bed is ripped to the side suddenly, revealing your dad who had about ten different expressions fluttering across his face.
Your eyes burn with unshed tears and your lips tremble as you look up at your dad. It was hitting you all at once, all of the emotions and secrets that you had been keeping to yourself for the last ten months.
"I'm sorry," You blurt out before your dad can speak, "I'm really sorry dad."
Frank swallows whatever words that had been on the tip of his tongue and kneels on the bed instead, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into a tight hug. He buries his nose into your head and he instantly smells the stench of weed coming from you. It wasn't the fresh, mild smell he had been expecting, it was deep and stale, dispelling the idea he had of you only smoking it today, he had hoped it was just one bad decision you made on the day where bad decisions happened.
You had been doing this for months, how could he not realise.
"It's okay, it's okay" Frank comforts you. Getting mad at you doesn't help anyone in this situation, so he turns his focus on what brought you into the ED this afternoon, "What happened to your hand? Robby told me you burned yourself."
You give a pathetic wave with your injured hand, bringing his attention to it, "I burned myself with a sparkler. I wasn't paying any attention."
Your dad takes your hand in his, cradling it gently as he brushes his thumb across the back of your hand, "How are you feeling? Are you in pain?"
"No," You shake your head, "Dr McKay gave me something for the pain."
"Good, good," You dad nods, "Does your mom know?"
"No…I gave your number. I didn't want to make her worry and rush over here with the babies."
There's a moment of silence before your dad speaks again, finally acknowledging the elephant in the room.
"I know the last ten months have been easy for anyone in the family and I apologize for that. I take full responsibility for my actions, I know what I did didn't just affect me but you also and I'm so sorry. I know you helped your mom and siblings when I was away, looking after them when your mom was working and I never acknowledged that or even thanked you–"
"Did you know all my friends abandoned me? That I had to quit the soccer club?" You ask, cutting him off, "Since I had to go home straight from school everyday, my friends slowly stopped hanging out with me. Everytime they'd want to go to the mall on the weekends, I had to decline because I was looking after Tanner and Penny. I had to become this third parent in your absence and I hoped and prayed every night that when you returned things would go back to normal but it never did!"
Your dad stares at you in surprise as you ranted, finally unloading everything upon him.
"Even when you came back, my friends didn't want to hang with me anymore. Do you know how many times I caught them laughing behind my back in the hallways at school? And I couldn't even get back into soccer! Months of not playing got me booted out of the team and you never noticed! Not you or mom!" You don't stop as you continue to rant, "You've been back for months and you never once asked how I did while you were gone, you just focused on mom and the babies, You didn't care about me–"
"That's not true!" Your dad cuts in, "I care about you. I love you so much kid but you don't understand what me and your mother were dealing with."
"I don't understand?! What don't I understand, hmm? If anything, all I've been doing is be understanding. I didn't once complain throughout this, I did everything that was asked of me and now you're saying I don't understand? Last year I was fifteen and making sacrifices and becoming a parent when you could not, did I not understand then?" You begin to get irate, the volume of your voice increasing, "Not once did you check up on me when you returned, all you focused on was mom, Tanner and Penny, you didn't care about me! You didn't notice anything about me, did you think I just jumped in head first into drinking and smoking? It took months and months and you didn't even notice how much I changed in that time."
Your dad stares at you speechless, his shoulders slumped down and his mouth was ajar slightly, shocked at your outburst.
The blue curtain was pulled open once again but it was Robby on the other side with an expression that showed that he had heard everything,
"I think this conversation is probably better held somewhere more private." Robby not so subtly suggests, "The family room is free and Dylan is on their way. Have you called Abby?
Frank takes a moment, still reeling from your outburst before he shakes his head, "Um, no. Not yet."
"You should do that now. Dylan will want to speak to both of you," Robby tells him before he turns to you, "Come I'll take you there. Your dad will meet us there once he's done calling your mom."
You hesitate, you're not done with telling your truth but you know that Robby was right, you didn't need the other patients of the ED overhearing your loud lash out at your father so you nod and slide off the bed and over to his side, not sparing your dad another glance as you follow Robby out.
Could you write with either abbot or robinavitch where their daughter needs surgery and is terrified, so they stay and comfort during the anesthesia part and the wake up part, all comfort and fluff?
PAIRINGS: Jack Abbot x Daughter!Reader
TW: premature baby reader. parental abandonment. chronically ill reader. medical stuff. medical inaccuracies. reader has surgery. not proof read. etc.
AN: This really just goes off track from the request and this was requested last july lol i'm sorry, hopefully the person who requested is still around. it's about 3.5k.
You were born a tiny, quiet thing—tinged blue and underdeveloped in all the places it mattered most. Your heart, your lungs and all the smaller things that go unnoticed at first.
Jack didn't see you in the first twenty-four hours of your life. An emergency c-section had left him wasting away in the family waiting room of the Labour ward, waiting for any sliver of information about you or your mother. You moved to the NICU soon after your birth, surrounded by different pediatric specialists as they tried to diagnose and treat you all at once.
Jack's relationship with your mother was unconventional. Still mourning the loss of his wife, Jack had bumped into your mother at a bar after trying to smother his feelings with alcohol and ending going home with her. They had formed a with-benefits pact afterwards, neither wanting a relation but rather a way to blow off steam. Your conception followed a few months later and Jack kept his opinion to himself; he didn't want a child, not while he was still knee deep in grief but he would never ask or tell your mother to get an abortion so he left the decision in her hands, stepping up when she decided to keep the baby.
Their co-parent dynamic didn't last long, your mother left when you were only four weeks old, still in NICU. Traumatised by the c-section and your subsequent stay in the NICU, she bowed out, unable to deal, leaving you with just your dad.
You had your first surgery before you had even hit two weeks, an open heart surgery that Jack spent the duration of stalking the halls of the hospital, unable to physically sit still. When he returns to ward, he finds you in the observation room, hooked up to a ventilator, chest tubes protruding from your tiny little body, machines tracking vitals, ready to blare in alarm when something strays from the perfectly calculated numbers it desired.
He wasn't allowed into the room, forced to look at you from the other side of the large window, watching as your chest moved with every breath you took. The nurses had assured him that you'd only be in there for a few days, under constant observation to make sure that everything went well post-surgery and then you would be back to your regular room.
Your surgeon, the best in the city–is beside him, telling him that everything went to plan, there were no complications and it was the best outcome they could ever hope for. You weren't totally out of the woods yet, your life would be filled with complex medical issues, but this was the first step of many.
When you were three years old, you moved to Pittsburgh, your father got a job offer there and that's where you have ever since.
You were kept firmly away from the hospital, more specifically the ED unless you had a medical emergency. Your weakened immune system paired with the ED waiting room was Jack's worst nightmare, so you were strictly ordered to stay well away.
Your surgeries and hospital visits hadn't stopped since you were a baby but instead of having you go to PTMC, you go to the closeby children's hospital. It's not that he didn't trust the doctors who worked in PTMC, but he preferred having you in the children's hospital.
Your father loved what he did, he loved the buzz it gave him, the high stress, busy environment is what he excelled in. Despite it being a second home; a place that he secretly loves a lot, it was also a place of too much death and despair and sometimes miracles but it was enough to keep you away.
The people he worked with knew he had a daughter, he was always happy to talk about you, updating Lena and Dana with whatever milestone and accomplishment you had achieved over the years, happily flaunting the homemade keychain you made him; multiple hanging from his backpack in a multitude of colours and his phone wallpaper was one of the first times he got to hold you, when you were still so tiny and fragile, curled up his chest, soaking up his body heat.
Despite your existence being known, only one of his colleagues had ever met you and that was Robby when you were seven. After an extremely rough shift, Robby didn't want to go home to his empty apartment so he reached out to Jack whose day off it was and Jack invited him around for beers, take out and whatever sports game that was on that night. You were meant to be at a friend's house for a sleepover, a rare occasion that Jack only allowed with the few parents he approved but your friend had fallen sick, the first signs appearing after a few hours. Your friend's parents knew of your medical issues and how strict your father is concerning your health so your friend's parents quickly bundled you up and drove you home.
Your dad hadn't answered his phone but you had assured Mrs Myers, your friend's mom, that he would be home. Your dad tended to be more of a homebody, preferring to stay at home on his days off so you knew he would be at home.
You release a sigh as you dump your backpack on the front porch before you incessantly ring the doorbell, knowing that it would irritate your dad. You peer over your shoulder, looking at where Mrs Myers idles in her car parked in front of the car, waiting until she sees your dad open the door before she pulls away.
It's not long before you see the entrance lights flicked on through the window panels of the door before the familiar silhouette of your father appears, beelining towards the door.
Your dad blinks down at you in surprise before they land on the car idling at the curb. Mrs Myers gives him a one handed wave before she peels off down the street and your father is looking back down at you in confusion. He's quick to crouch down, hands simultaneously checking your body for any scrapes of bruises and checking to see if you had a fever.
"What's wrong? Why are you here? Are you sick?" The questions spill from your dad in quick succession.
"Anna started to get sick so Mrs Myers took me home," You tell him, letting him fret over you, completely used to it now, "She called and texted you but you didn't answer."
Your dad pats his pockets, searching for his phone before he sighs, remembering where he left it, "Sorry buggie, I left it in the kitchen. I have a friend over, I got distracted."
You raise your arms up at him, wanting to be lifted and though you were too old for it, Jack always indulged you, telling himself that it was because you were still small for your age.
"A friend?" You may be young but you knew your dad didn't hang out with friends that much, "A girl- friend?"
Your dad rolls his eyes at you but a smile tugs on his lips as he lifts you, settling you on his hip before he swings your bag onto his free shoulder and re-enters the house. He pulls your shoes off, throwing them down to the heap of shoes near the door and dumps your bag on the staircase to remind him to bring it upstairs later on. He swings through the kitchen to collect his forgotten phone and a pizza flyer before he enters the living room where you're greeted with a stranger.
Your hands tighten in your dad's t-shirt, gripping harder when he tries to set you down on the ground, apprehensive of the stranger.
"Lovebug, this Robby. I work with him at the hospital." Jack tells you, "He had a bad day at work so I'm trying to cheer him up."
Robby stands, staying far enough away to give you space and extends his hand out, greeting you, "Hello, I'm Michael. It's nice to meet you."
You giggle at his seriousness, as if he was introducing himself to an adult and not little you. You reach forward, one hand still gripping your dads t-shirt as you shake the extended hand, "I thought your name is Robby?"
"It is, it's my nickname. My last name is Robinavitch, so people call me Robby." Robby explains as he settles back onto the couch. Your dad once again tries to place you down but you protest, looking up at him in confusion.
"I'm just gonna get us some drinks," Your dad tells you, nudging you so that you sit down properly before handing you the pizza flyer, "Here, look at this and choose what pizza you want."
Happily distracted, you hum as you read the options as your dad dips out of the room, returning only moments later with two beer bottles and your water bottle, setting them down on the coffee table before he falls back onto the couch with a sigh, sitting in the middle of the couch.
Your hand automatically rests on his arm, as if to remind yourself that he's right next to you and hasn't disappeared. Robby spies it and flicks his inquisitive gaze over to Jack, "Clingy?"
"Stage four clinger," The huff that comes out of Jack is fond, "It's my fault though, I'm a bit of an enabler."
"She's your kid, it's understandable," Robby rationalises.
"Whenever I look at her all I see is that tiny baby who had to fight through every odd to get here today. She's already had three surgeries and she's only seven, she's got a lifetime of surgeries ahead of her plus she gets sick so easily, a simple cold will wipe her out for a week and it'll take another week to get her back to full health." Jack glances down at you, making sure you were properly distracted before he turns back to Robby, "I feel like I'm failing her sometimes, always keeping her by my side, wrapping her up in so much bubblewrap but I'm scared that if I don't then something will happen to her."
Robby watches you for a moment, noting how comfortable you were curled up into your fathers side, still looking over the flyer not bothered by the conversation happening beside you.
"I think you're doing a great job."
Jack looks at Robby in shock, not expecting him to say that.
"Look at her, sure she's a bit clingy but she's seven and you're her whole world. She's in and out of hospitals but she has you and you're always there when she wakes up after a surgery, you're there when she's sick and you help her recover and she knows, more than anything else in the world, that you're there for her." Robby continues, " She has friends and sleepovers and even when they're cancelled she gets to chill at home with you and order pizza."
Jack doesn't respond at first, absorbing Robby's words. He had always doubted his fathering abilities, solo parenting along with working long hours had him harbouring a lot of guilt but Robby's words settled something within him.
"Daddy!" Your chirp, waving the flyer in front of him to grab his attention, "I'm ready. I know what I want!"
"You're ready? Okay, how about we give the flyer to Robby so he can choose his while you tell me what you want." Jack says as he passes the flyer over to Robby.
"I want a cheese pizza."
Robby snorts into the glossy pizza menu. Ten minutes of deliberating only to decide on cheese pizza is something only a seven year old could do.
"Just cheese?" Jack asks, "Are you sure?"
"...And sweetcorn!"
"Okay, okay," Jack laughs as he reaches for his phone, dialling the familiar number that he called at least once a week as he turns to Robby, "You ready?"
Now almost ten years later, you have transformed into a little independent butterfly, often hanging out with friends or at the part-time job you convinced your dad to allow you to get. Your dad still fretted over you; quarantining you whenever you or your friends got sick, not wanting to take the risk and he always checked up throughout the day, especially ever since he moved to the night shift.
Jack still carried the keychains you made when you were younger on his backpack and the background on his phone was still of you but it was no longer the one of you as a baby as Jack had frequently changed it over the years as you grew.
It was the fourth of July, you were hanging with your friends all day while your dad pulled a daytime SWAT shift before working his regular nightshift. You had raised your concerns with him, criticising him for working the whole day with minimal rest in between but he brushed off your concerns and even though you didn't like it, you trusted him to know his limits.
Your dad had been going along like normal, you woke up feeling fine, you ate breakfast with your dad and the early afternoon you had spent with friends was fun, doing last minute grocery store runs for the barbeque, fighting against everyone else as they did the same thing.
It wasn't until the sun began to set; the sky darkening into a deep orange, the bonfire was burning steadily and the stronger drinks that you were technically too young to drink were getting passed around, did you get hit with a sudden shortness of breath. At first you thought it was your asthma playing because of the fumes and smoke coming from the bonfire so you dug through your bag for the inhaler you always carried with you and took a couple of puffs in hopes it would settle your lungs but to no avail, the heaviness remained.
Then comes the wave of fatigue and you stumble over your feet as your chest begins to feel heavy, like someone was crushing it, putting on so much pressure it felt like you couldn't breath.
Your breath was coming out in panicked pants as one of your friends caught on to what was happening, rushing over to your side as they helped you lay down flat, crying out over her shoulder for someone to call 911.
You faintly hear someone call out 'Call Mr. Abbot too!', before you pass out completely.
"Ah fuck…"
Robby curses as your unconscious body is wheeled past him by the emt's, straight into Trauma One with Al-Hashimi, Langdon and Javadi quickly following behind.
"Dana?"
The charge nurse hums in acknowledgement.
"Page Abbot. Tell him it's urgent. Top priority. ASAP."
Dana looks up at him, confused, painting her features as her eyes briefly flutter to the busy trauma room before they return to Robby, "For this patient? How do you know that you will need him?"
"For an emergency contact. That's his daughter." With that, Robby pulls off his hoodie and disappears into trauma one.
Dana stares in shock as Robby disappears into the room before reality slams into her and she's reaching for the phone and dialling Abbot's number. She knew Jack had a daughter, she had even seen photos but Robby's reaction was more than just as simple as his friend's kid coming through, he knew something was seriously wrong before the rest of them did.
Trauma One was heaving with a mess of bodies and energy, Al-Hashimi and Langdon were trying to stabilise your vitals, calling at each other over your body, guessing what could have caused your condition. Javadi was at the computer, eyes wide as she read through your medical history, telling the doctors your chronic conditions, everything that could possibly be contributing towards your current condition.
They had only just managed to stabilise you, with the cardiology consult with them. Your vitals just pushing at the boundaries, ready to dip again at any moment when your father finally storms in, still disheveled as he only had woken up moments ago, the incessant buzzing of his phone waking him from his brief nap, his heart dropping at the notifications from your friends and Dana.
Jack ignores everyone in the room, he heads straight to your side and takes you in, trying to figure out what happened to you. He's quiet as he rubs his thumb across your cheek and only takes his eyes off you to take note of what your monitor displays.
"What happened?" Jack's voice is low and full of emotion.
"She collapsed at a bonfire with her friends," Robby tells him, "Her friends told the EMTs that at first she was struggling to breath and she tried her inhaler but shortly after that she collapsed."
There's a pause before Jack speaks again, "...Is it her heart?"
This time the cardiology consultant speaks up, "Yes. She needs emergency surgery, as soon as possible."
"Here?" Jack looks up at them, panic swimming in his eyes, "It can't be here. She goes to the children's hospital for everything, her doctor is there and every surgery she's ever had since she was three has been there. She has to go there."
The cardiologist exchanges a look with Robby before they speak again, "I understand this is difficult Dr Abbot but we're running out of time here. We don't know if they're affected by hacking either and even if they're not, requesting a transfer and getting transport over there will take time we don't have."
Robby steps forward, clasping Jack on the shoulder as he bends down to whisper to him, giving them a little bit of privacy from everyone else in the room. "I know you trust the team over there more than anyone else but you have to trust the one we have here right now. She needs surgery, Jack."
Jack gazes down at you again, seeing your eyelids flutter as you slowly gain consciousness before he looks back up at Robby and nods, "...She needs the surgery. What do I need to sign?"
The consent form is pushed in front of him and Jack immediately signs it, prompting the room back into motion again. Instructions are being called as they begin to take you upstairs to surgery.
You're half conscious as they move you into the elevator but your eyes remain on your dad. He had taken a hold of your hand at some point but you were gripping as hard as you could.
He tries to pull away once you reach the surgical floor but you cling to him, your eyes watering with tears, "Please stay…"
Jack turns to the cardiologist, ready to beg to stay in some capacity when the surgeon nods before he could even open his mouth, "Sterile scrub and gown up and you can stay during anaesthesia."
Being an attending physician at the hospital had its perks it seemed.
Jack squeezes your hand and presses a kiss to your forehead, "I'll be back soon buggie. I'll be there until you go to sleep, I promise."
Jack, scrubbed up, is by your side as anaesthetic does its job.
"I love you so much buggie, you're my world." Jack whispers to you, eyes watering as he watches you eyelids slowly flutter closed, "My whole world and I'll do anything for you. I'll be right by your side when you wake up as well, I promise."
Jack continues to whisper to you until he has to leave, reminding you that you were strong and you would get through this unexpected surgery and you would continue to get stronger and stronger.
Your drift in and out of consciousness at first, not having a grasp on where you were or what had happened. You can tell your chest hurts and you can hear solid beeping whenever you're briefly conscious but when you wake properly, the first thing you notice is the tube in your throat, catching you off guard as you choke around it.
"Hey, hey, it's okay." A voice tells you, "Try to breathe normally…that's it, nice and slowly…in and out, that's it."
Wherever you are suddenly gets busier, multiple people are talking over each other and multiple hands on you. It overwhelms you but there's nothing you can do other than sit through it, letting it wash over you. Someone holds your hand through everything, their thumb running over your knuckles repetitively as they whisper something about buggie.
The room slowly quietens again but someone is calling your attention, it was a nurse explaining what was happening. You would remain on the ventilator for a little bit longer as they monitor you to make sure you could breathe comfortably enough on your own, then they would take you off it.
Once they leave you stare absentmindedly into the room, trying to short your racing thoughts out. You can't remember how you got to the hospital but you could guess why you were there judging by the soft ache in your chest.
"How you doing lovebug?"
The voice startles you and you flinch as you look to your right, blinking in confusion at the man beside you before it suddenly hits you all at once. Tears spill from your eyes as you reach towards your dad, unable to speak but he knows what you want to say.
"I know honey, I know." Your dad comforts you, "I'm here for you."
You squeeze his hand, hoping it conveys what you want to say and when your dad tears up, you know it was.
Finally watched the last episode. I know people were a bit disappointed that nothing big happened but I think people are forgetting what type of show they’re watching, last season didn’t end with a bang either. Like we just got a good lore drop from Robby right at the end
This season, we know more about the characters and we’re watching them develop. I feel like this season was more on the characters rather than the setting like last year, we see Langdon deal with coming back, Robby’s deteriorating mental health, Javadi dealing with the pressure from her parents and figuring herself out and mohan also figuring herself out and making choices for herself.
Anyway, imo I feel like Robby might take up that kinship fostering and maybe not go on that road trip. I enjoyed the season and I’m looking forward to see what the next season is like.
A fic with pope from animal kingdom where he has a daughter like 13-14 and they are really close because he had to raise her mostly and something with her getting hurt a bit badly (sorry this is bad but i want to see whatever with pope at this point)
PAIRINGS: Pope Cody x Daughter!Reader
AN: Hate this but it needs to be posted so whatever lol. Not proof read. Also completely random but my pet peeve is when people post a full fic in this micro size, like I use it for this small part but I genuinely cannot read that font for a full fic since it's so small.
They caught you off guard on your way home from school, with your headphones in your ears blasting music at the highest volume and your eyes focused on the phone in your hands, all the things your dad had repeatedly told you not to do and so you didn't see the van pull up until it was too late.
Three men spring out of the van, one pulls something over your head, obstructing your vision and snatching your phone from your hands, whilst the other two grab your arms and feet and haul you off your feet, pulling you into the van. Your screams are muffled by the sack, or hood– whatever it was over your head but you manage to free one leg enough to pull it up and then kick at one of the men, grinning at the pained howl that erupted from one of them but your small victory does not last long as you're roughly slammed on to the van's floor, your chest and jaw bouncing off the rough surface.
"Motherfucker-" Your curse as your arms are aggressively pulled back, pulling uncomfortably as they're zip-tied behind you, your ankles getting bound as well.
"Shut up!" A harsh kick to your ribs renders you breathless and speechless, only a harsh groan manages to escape your lips.
You remain silent as the van begins to move, not wanting to give them more reasons to beat the shit out of you just yet. You knew this was connected to whatever bullshit your family had gotten into, there was no other possibility and considering the people they got involved with, you had no doubts that the whole situation was going to get a whole lot uglier.
Pope crosses the front lot of Smurfs house in quick yet tense steps, jaw clenched and hands fisted, anger growing as he hears the sounds of a party. He had been sitting in his house for hours, waiting for your return from school but as the time passed by and you hadn't appeared, he became worried. Every call he made to your phone went unanswered, first it just rang and rang until voicemail and then it immediately went straight to voicemail meaning the phone was purposely turned off or had run out of batteries and died. Pope then rang his brothers, J and Smurf, thinking that perhaps you went over to your grandmother's house and had forgotten to tell him but their calls went unanswered too. Fearing that something had happened to the rest of his family, Pope sped over but now as he heard the clear sounds of a party, his anger bubbled over.
He pushes open the gate and storms in, immediately grabbing the phone that was connected to the speakers and crushed it beneath his feet. Stomping on until it was nothing but debris and the speaker cut off, leaving the backyard of Smurf's house in total silence.
Everyone is there; Smurf, Baz, Craig, Deran and J.
"What the fuck dude?!" Craig jumps up from the lounger he was on and storms over to Pope, "What's your fucking problem?!"
"My problem is that you guys don't answer your fucking phones!" Pope shoves Craig back as he gets in his face, "I've been calling you all for an hour!"
"What's wrong baby?" Smurf asks, standing and making her way over to him.
Craig scoffs at them, rolling his eyes as he returns to his seat.
"We're just celebrating the job we just did, Pope. What's wrong?" Baz, ever the mediator asks.
"My kid, my girl" Pope stresses, his voice cracking,"I don't know where she is. She didn't come back from school and she's not answering her phone. Is she here?!"
"She isn't here, I haven't heard from her," Smurf tells Pope, before turning to the rest of her family, "Have you heard from her? J?"
The men shake their heads and the attention quickly shifts to J who also shakes his head, "I didn't go to school today, so I haven't seen her in a while."
"Okay baby, you sit down and call the school," Smurf guides Pope to sit on one of the lounge chairs before turning her attention to the younger three, "Craig, Deran, J, you three go out and look for her, search every street in town if you have to and don't come back until you do or until you find her."
The boys don't argue, quickly placing their beers to the side and jumping up. They each give Pope a comforting pat on the shoulder before they leave, heading for their trucks and bike, peeling out of the lot without a second glance.
Smurf runs her hands through Pope's hair in an attempt to comfort him, rubbing a thumb across his cheek as he looks up at her, completely broken.
"Can't you track her?"
Smurf hesitates slightly before nodding, "I'll try baby."
Smurf leaves, heading inside, leaving only Pope and Baz by the pool. Pope stares aimlessly into the pool, knees jiggling up and down, a sign of Pope's increasing anxiety.
"Hey, you sure she didn't go to a friend's house or anything? Maybe she forgot to tell you."
Pope shakes his head, his voice cracking, "Not during the week. She always comes straight home after school. She's not even answering her phone, it just keeps ringing and ringing…"
"Okay, okay–" Baz interrupts Pope's spiral, "Did she mention anything suspicious, like uh, a car following her or a guy lingering by the school gates? Anything like that?"
"No. She knows- she knows to keep an eye out, to look over her shoulder," Pope rambles, "Something's wrong Baz."
"Okay, I'll call the boys for an update, you call the school."
Pope calls the school, the pit in his stomach increasing as the receptionist confirms that you had left as usual when school had ended. He ends the call short, cutting off the receptionist's next sentence. He turns to Baz who shakes his head 'no' as he continues the conversation with the other men and Pope feels the pit in his stomach flare into nausea, his tongue feels heavy and he's struggling to swallow, gagging around nothing.
"Andrew! Baz!" Smurf's voice calls from the kitchen, dread evident.
Pope doesn't spare Baz a glance as he immediately runs into the kitchen, stopping in front of the laptop Smurf had open. The screen shows a map of the city, and a blinking red dot with your name attached was placed in the middle of nowhere.
"Where the hell is that?" Pope asks.
"Industrial park. It's on the other side of the city." Smurf answers before she turns to Baz, "Tell the boys to head there but make them wait until we get there, we don't want any mistakes to happen. We need a plan."
Pope's phone rings before Baz could even move to call the other men, your name flashing on the screen. He doesn't wait a moment before he's picking up the phone, calling your name down the phone.
"It's me honey, tell me you're okay." Pope's words spilled out of him quickly, "Please talk to me."
The first sound that comes through the line is harsh, pain-filled heavy breathing before an unfamiliar voice speaks up.
"Hello again, Pope Cody," The older, male voice, speaks, causing Pope to frown in confusion.
"Who the hell are you? Where's my daughter?" Pope demands.
"Oh your daughter is fine," The man says nonchalantly, "Well, all things considered, especially since she's a little tied-up right now but I'm sure she can spare a word or two."
The sound of shuffling escapes the phone's speakers before the mysterious man speaks up again, "Go on, sweetheart, say hello to your dad."
There's a brief pause before you speak up, voice low and winded, "Dad?"
A rush of air escapes Pope's lips, relief rushing through him at the sound of your voice, "Yeah honey, it's me…please tell me you're okay"
Pope wants to say more but his throat closes up and his voice begins to crack and he's unable to speak without tripping on his words. His eyes burn with unshed tears and right now he regrets every single job he has done since you were born, he would give up everything in order to have you back, to have you away from the criminal life he had raised you up in. He regretted it all, he wished he said no to Smurf's and Baz's invitations and offers to do jobs with the family, falling into the trap of wanting a better life for you because all the money, the nice house and nice car mean nothing if you don't return alive.
"I'm…I'm okay but I…" Your voice breaks, "I want to go home dad, please help me."
Pope's phone chimes with a message and he opens it to find a picture of you attached. You were tied to a chair, ankles bound by rope to the legs of the chair and your arms were tied behind your back plus a blindfold was placed over your eyes, preventing you from identifying any of the people who had kidnapped you.
"What do you want from us?" Baz asks, taking command of the situation as he usually did.
"Which brother am I speaking to now?" The mysterious man asks.
"Baz,"
"Ah yes, Mr Blackwell. Well if you remember, you and your brother stole a shipment from me last week and well, I really don't like it when people steal from me." The man explains, "What I want is my shipment back. If you've already sold it and that's a very big if then I want the entire worth of the shipment, plus a little interest, so let's just call it a total of two million dollars. How does that sound?"
"Two million dollars?" Baz repeats back, taken aback.
"That's only if you've sold what you've stolen. Here's what's going to happen, I'm going to send you details of meet up position but for every hour you fail to turn up, means this precious young girl here gets an extra beating—"
"No!" Pope interrupts, "No! Don't!"
"Then you better hurry up and bring me my shit." With that the man hangs up, preventing Pope from sharing another word with his daughter.
Pope stared aimlessly at the phone, mind and heart racing. He heard Smurf and Buz buzz around behind him, calling the other men back to the house and planning out loud. He lets it buzz in the background until he hears Smurf make a suggestion that pulls him out of his daze.
"We can't return that shipment Baz, we need the money. You should out number them, it'll be you five against what? Three, maybe max five guys."
"No." Pope whips around, glaring at his mother, "We do that and they'll kill her, they won't hesitate."
"We don't have to rush a plan just yet baby, we can think about it some more."
Pope flashes his mother an incredulous look, "Didn't you hear them? The longer we fuck around, the more they beat her."
"They won't really do that, she's a young girl. It's probably just an empty threat."
Pope shakes his head, turning to Baz instead, "Imagine if it was Lena. I'm not waiting around, we're giving that shit back.
Pope stalks out of the house, heading towards his trucking, not waiting to see if Baz or Smurf are following him.
Your whole body ached, one of your wrists and ankles were twisted, bruises littered your body and face and your lip was busted. As the hours crept along, the abuse increased and now you sat, still on the chair, hopelessly waiting for your family to come.
You had hoped that the threat made earlier was empty; trying to scare your family by threatening you, but you were quickly reminded that you were dealing with criminals, traffickers and they didn't need unnecessary baggage. You were sure that if your family didn't come by sunrise, you would be killed and left in a ditch on the side of the road somewhere. A Jane Doe with no identifying features to make sure nothing leads back to them.
Okay, you were frightening yourself more for no reason. You needed to remain calm and keep believing that they would return whatever they stole.
Your lips were cracked and dry and with the blindfold still over your eyes, you had no clue how much time had passed since you had been kidnapped but you were feeling the effects of being tied up for several hours.
"Can–"You cleared your throat, tongue pathetically running over your lips in an attempt to hydrate them, "Can I get some water?...Please."
You don't hear a response at first until suddenly you hear the cracking of a lid being unscrewed right beside your ear before a bottle is being pushed on your lips. You tilt your head back, greedily gulping down the water until the bottle is empty.
"Thank you," You murmur, slumping back into the chair, ignoring the burning pain in your shoulders.
You hear a phone go off somewhere, muffled whispers following before someone starts shouting, "Get into position! They're here!"
A relieved breath escapes you, finally your family was here. Hopefully they didn't have stupid plan is use, your life was worth more than whatever the fuck they stole.
Shutters rolled up, guns were loaded and you had two men on either side of you, making sure no one snuck away to save you behind their backs. You could hear the sound of cars driving up a dirt road before they roll to a stop, doors opening and closing in quick succession. Someone speaks but you're too far away to hear what they're actually saying.
You have no concept of time at this point, you don't know if it's been twenty minutes or two hours since your family arrived so when hands suddenly grab your arms that were behind your back, you flinch in shock, body jolting away.
"Stop moving," The man behind you grunts, "I'm cutting your ties."
You still at his words, staying completely motionless as the man cut your wrists and ankles free before you were yanked up off the chair. You stumble, legs numb after hours of being tied to a chair but you're once again grabbed as someone guides you somewhere. You were still blindfolded but that seemed to matter little to the men guiding you who had very little patience and ended up practically dragging you before unceremoniously dumping you somewhere, with a whispered threat in your ear about not taking your blindfold off before you were left alone.
Pope stalked ahead from his family, looking down every pathway between every warehouse in the industrial park. The sun was steadily setting and he didn't have a torch on him which meant his window to find you was rapidly closing.
After returning the stolen shipment, your kidnappers had told him you had been left somewhere in the industrial park and that whilst they were looking for you, they would get away, preventing any double-crossing.
Craig was somewhere behind him cursing and complaining to Smurf and Baz and under any other circumstances, Pope would have smacked him silent but his only concern right now was finding you.
He was calling out your name as paced down between the many warehouses that littered the industrial park but if you were replying, he couldn't hear it over the sound of Craig's whining.
"Craig, shut the fuck up!" Pope snaps over his shoulder, "You're not fucking needed here, go home or shut up."
Pope sends him one last glare before turning back, widening his strides to pull further away from his mother and siblings.
Calling your name again, Pope freezes as he hears something in reply. At first he thinks it's just a random noise being carried by the wind before he steps closer and hears the faint call of 'dad'. He calls your name again and again, following your responses until he finds you curled up into a ball, blindfolded and scared.
"Dad?" You call out desperately, "Please tell me you're here?"
Pope's breath stutters for a moment before he's racing towards you, calling out your name as he crashes to his knees beside you. He rips your blindfold off as he pulls you into a hug, sobbing into your neck as he rocked you side to side.
"Oh honey," Your dad sobs, chest heaving as he cries, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
You don't respond, instead tightening your arms around his neck as you cry yourself. You could hear the rest of your family approaching but the only thing you cared about was your dad.
Your dad ignores the murmurs of Baz and Smurf, pulling you into his arms and standing straight, walking past them as he returns to his truck. Repeatedly apologizing as he walked you back to safety—back to home.
loveed the parker ellis fic you made, are we gonna see a part two of them trying to move all of the reader’s stuff into parker’s apartment?? maybe even having a makeshift dinner date together? 😁😁😁
Thank youuu <3 💕
I actually got another request for Parker so I might just add this to it and make them all connected but this such a great idea anyways
AN: This is honestly doesn't even have a proper story to it, I just wanted to write something with Ellis in it lmao. it's also not edited or anything, so warning.
SYNOPSIS: After being kicked out from downstairs, Parker heads to another place to nap and finds you. She doesn't end up napping but propses something that would finally define your 'will they, won't they' relationship.
The fourth floor of the hospital had been emptied and abandoned for almost two years now and though it was slowly becoming storage for the shit that none of the departments wanted anymore, there were still a few more suites left untouched with perfectly fine beds still within them, which made them a perfect napping spot.
After being booted from the room she was using downstairs, Parker makes her way up to one of those rooms. The hallways are empty like always, her shoes squeaking on floor is the only sound that could be heard and the prospect of complete and utter peace whilst she sleeps for at least an hour before her deposition and shift, filled her with joy. She wasn't worried about the deposition, it wasn't her first and it certainly wouldn't be her last and she was confident in her actions that day, knowing that the spinal tap saved the boy's life.
Parker pauses when she steps into the room, someone's already there, comfortably curled up and fast asleep. Trying not to disturb them, Parker turns to exit but her eyes catch on your familiar backpack in the corner. It was hard to mistake, it was purple and had every single charm and keyring you had ever bought attached to it, always signaling your arrival when they rattled as you moved. You had also attached a photo of the night shift team. The photo had been taken on one of your nights out together and you had printed it out, into a tiny, portable size and put it into a Hello Kitty frame, and now hung from the backpacks handle.
Realising it was you, Parker relaxes and dumps her bag next to yours and kicks off her shoes before climbs into the bed behind you, her arm sliding over your waist so she can spoon you.
Your relationship with each other was both complicated yet not. You two had slept together a few times but it hadn't really made your friendship or working together awkward. Your dynamic existed in the space between; good platonic friends, friends with benefits and real legitimate feelings between you but not acting on it.
You were as close to dating without actually dating. You spent time with each other off shift, going to lunch, art exhibitions, sports games, along with spending time around each other's apartments almost everyday, plus the occasional hook up but neither of you had taken the step that was so desperately needed. There was a betting pool going on that had initially started as a 'when will they finally confess their true feelings for each other' but had slowly converted to 'how long have they been secretly dating' as the years trickled by.
You jolt awake at the movement behind you, eyes snapping open as your body flinches, your brain desperately trying to connect the dots of what was happening.
"What the–"
"It's just me," Parker whispers, "It's me, Parker."
You let out a tired huff at the words, body slumping back into her hold, humming as her arm tightens around you once again. You rest one of your hands over hers, whilst you tuck the other underneath your head and close your eyes but you stay awake.
"What time is it?" You ask, not willing to check your phone for the time.
"Like one-ish," Parker whispers as she hooks her chin over your shoulder.
You frown at her words but you're not curious enough to open your eyes to look back at her, "Why are you here so early?"
"My deposition," Parker reminds you, "It's at one thirty. I'm also picking up an extra shift anyway."
"You're not nervous are you? Because you did nothing wrong."
Parker sighs, twisting your hand around so she can link fingers with you, "I'm not but all of this could have been prevented if the parents brought him in earlier. Instead they neglected to and the poor younger sister had to call for help. You'd think after all this the parents would realise what they've done."
"It's how they cope when they've realised what they have caused but they don't want to acknowledge it. It's easier to blame someone else rather than yourself." You hum, "You might have to share that advice with Dr King."
"We're not allowed to discuss it."
"Then monologue it or whatever. Give a spiel then go on with your day," You sigh, "There's no rules against that is there?"
Parker lets out an amused huff, "Okay, smartass."
"We're talking so much you can forget about your catnap," You hum, "Kind of silly to try to nap only thirty minutes before your deposition anyway."
"I was prepping for my sixteen-hour shift, which is bad enough but we're getting Westbridge diversions down there."
"Oh fuck me" You groan, finally opening your eyes and shifting around so you could be face to face with Parker, "Seriously? Since when?"
"A couple of hours, something about a cyber attack." Parker shrugs before remembering that you're here very early too, "Wait, why are you here early?"
"I've been here since seven. My landlord decided to completely redo the kitchen and bathroom a couple of days ago which means I can't go back after shift because they're ripping shit apart in there, so I've been crashing here. And when I reminded that asshole that I work nights and I need to sleep during the day and if he had given me even a tiny bit of a heads up then it would have given me time to sort shit out, he goes, 'that's life'. Asshole." You grumble, "I'm also doing an extra shift. The more money I get, the quicker I can leave my place."
"Why don't you stay at mine?" Parker suggests. Your relationship, if you could call it that, didn't follow the usual way but unconventionality may be what kick starts everything properly.
You raise an eyebrow at her, picking up the particular suggestive tone in her voice, "Until they finish at my apartment or…?"
"Orrrr, maybe a bit longer, maybe move in completely…"
"You know, people usually go on a date before they move in with each other," You laugh, "And no, before you start, hooking up with each other doesn't count as a date."
"It's not like we're strangers," Parker argues, "We've known each other for years."
You pause for a minute, looking at her sincere expression on her face, "Are you serious? Like one hundred percent?"
Parker nods, "Like one hundred percent. I'm serious."
An alarm blares from Parker's phone, reminding her that her deposition was going to start soon and breaking the moment. Parker sighs as she shifts to turn off the alarm, exiting the bed as she did so, putting her shoes back on and collecting her backpack, and you watch her silence, still stuck on the proposition she had given you.
Parker returns to you before she leaves, kneeling on the bed so that she is hovering over you, "I'm not going to push you for a yes but just think about it, please."
You nod in agreement and Parker smiles before she leans down and presses a soft kiss against your lips.
"Thank you,"
With one last wink, Parker leaves you alone with racing thoughts and a racing heart.
Anyway, I watched the immortal man and tbf I don’t hate it, is it what I totally wanted? No but like it reminded me of how much I loved the series and how got me into writing fics.
Tbf, I hadn’t rewatched the series since the final season came out years ago so I barely remember what happened the last season(s) lol so maybe that helped my viewing experience
PLEASE I BEG MORE DAD LANGDON🙏🙏 maybe like an x daughter reader where she has a fall or a kitchen accident and she has to go to the er and a bunch of fluff
PAIRING: Frank Langdon x Daughter!Reader
A/N: I actually got around 4 dad!frank requests, I'm counting this as 2 and the next one will hopefully be a bit more angsty, if i can think of an idea. Anyway, I'm not the biggest fan of this but who is suprised, it's a nothing burger and it's more santos than langdon but this was the only idea I had lmao.
"Hey Santos, got a patient in South Fifteen for you."
The second year resident paused at Dana's words, momentarily pulling away from her charting to peer up at the charge nurse, silently pleading.
"Can't you send anyone else? I'm about twenty reports behind."
Dana gives an unsympathetic shrug, "That's the life of a doctor, I'm afraid."
Santos sighs but stands and grabs a tablet, reading the notes as she heads towards South Fifteen.
Fourteen year old girl. Ankle injury. Injured during a soccer game.
(Brought in by coach, awaiting parental arrival.)
Santos softens a bit as she realises the patient was a young girl. The poor thing was injured, without her parents and probably scared too. She takes a deep breath, centering herself, slipping into Doctor Santos before she pulls the curtain to the side and introduces herself to the two people within the little bedspace.
You sit on the bed in a soccer uniform, grass and mud stains spread across your jersey and shorts. One of your ankles had been propped up and your sock had been rolled down to your ankle but Santos could see the bruising of your ankle from where she stood.
"Hi there, l'm Doctor Santos. I'm going to be your doctor today, I saw that you injured your ankle today, can you tell me more about what happened?" Santos gives the young girl a soft smile as she approaches the bed.
You give her a shy smile but Santos could tell it was fragile around the edges, pain and discomfort were thrumming through you.
"Hi," Your voice was soft, "I was playing soccer and this other player tackled me. Her boot hit my ankle and I think it rolled a bit."
"Did more than roll kiddo," The coach spoke up, turning to Santos, "It was a bad tackle. The other kid was much older, bigger. It was an under eighteen tournament game."
"Under eighteen?" Santos does a double take, "You're only fourteen though, right?"
You nod as your coach beams proudly, "She's very talented, one of the best in the city, if not the state! A lot of potential in her!"
"Well then, I better check this ankle to make sure we can patch you up and you can return to the pitch." Santos takes her time as she removes the sock, mindful of each whimper and hiss you make as her foot is jostled. She gently feels around the foot but she already knows this will require an x-ray.
"Do we have any updates on the parents?" Santos asks the coach who shakes their head, "We need their permission for an x-ray."
"No. Mom is at home with two younger kids, dad works at a hospital– long hours." The coach tells her, standing up and pulling their phone out, "I'll step out and try to call them again."
The coach disappears behind the curtain, leaving Santos alone with the young girl.
"Do you know what hospital your dad works at? Maybe if we call them directly, rather than his mobile, we might be able to get in contact with him."
Before you could answer, the curtain behind Santos is pulled open so hard that it makes her flinch in surprise and she is caught off guard when Langdon storms in.
"Dad!"
Santos is rendered silent as she watches Langdon pull the young girl into a hug, his shoulders untensing slightly as he sighed in relief.
"Hey kid," Langdon murmured as pressed a kiss to your forehead, "I'm sorry. I only just got messages now. What happened? What hurts?"
"My ankle." You murmur, "The doctor says it needs an x-ray."
Landon turns towards Santos and she no longer sees the senior resident anymore but rather a worried father who was ready to jump lines and use his position as a doctor to put his daughter first.
"Have you ordered any scans yet? Let me see." Langdon pushes up from the bed, heading towards the computer but before he could log in, the curtain is pulled back once again and a hand reaches out across Langdon's chest, preventing him from moving.
"Woah, woah, woah," Robby cuts in, stepping into the curtained off bed, voice firm and strict, "Absolutely not. In this room you are not a doctor, you are dad which means no looking at charts or scans, or anything of the sort. It means you sit down and comfort your daughter."
"But Robby–"
"But nothing. Sit down." Robby turns to Santos, "What are your thoughts Dr Santos?"
"Uhh," Santos hesitates, eyes lingering on Langdon, now suddenly stuck in a tough position. She had been avoiding the senior resident ever since he returned that morning, not wanting to face him after everything that happened the previous year. She wanted nothing to do with him, still affected by his actions to this day, and his return had made things worse but now she was his daughter's doctor and he looked at her like she held his whole world, or at least a third of it. She wanted nothing to do with him and even though the young girl's injuries were nothing life-threatening and something that any other doctor could handle, she couldn't let the poor girl get in the middle of it all.
Santos shakes herself out of her thoughts, "Um, possible fracture of the ankle based on the bruising and tenderness."
Robby nods along, "Uh-huh, and did you order an x-ray?"
"Not yet, I was waiting for the parents. Didn't know it was Dr Langdon's kid."
As Robby taps into the computer, ordering the scans, Santos watches how Langdon interacts with his daughter. He sits on the edge of the bed, one leg tucked up underneath him with his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close as he comforts her, reassuring her that her ankle will heal fine and she would be able to return to soccer once everything is healed up correctly.
Santos is so caught up in watching them, watching Langdon become a totally different person that she forgets to look away, flinching slightly when Langdon suddenly looks up and catches her eye.
"Can we get some pain relief for her? She says her foot is hurting," Your dad requests, "Just some acetaminophen."
"What's that?" You ask curiously.
"Tylenol. We just use the fancy medical terms in here," Robby tells you with a laugh, "With everything going on today, x-ray is going to come around in about twenty minutes."
"Can I stay with her? At least until Abby gets here?" Your dad asks, looking at Robby for approval.
"Of course, I'll see if Dana can find a private room for her." Robby says, "I'd offer Paeds but baby Jane Doe is still there."
The curtain moved again, this time it was the coach returning, who lightened up at the sight of your father, "Frank! Thank God you're here, I only just managed to get in contact with Abby, she's on her way. About ten minutes out."
Robby and your coach take the moment to leave. Your coach telling you he will check in, in a few days and Robby returning to his patients.
"That's good." Your dad hums, looking down at you, "Your mom and siblings will stay here with you but I have to get back to work."
"Do you have to?" You ask, "I want you to stay."
"I know sweetie but it's really bad out there, they need all the help they can get but I'll come and see you as much as I can, okay?"
You nod softly, a soft sigh escaping you, "Okay."
Your dad's phone rings and you see your mom's name flash on the screen before he swipes the screen and holds it up to his ear, listening as your mom speaks on the other end, "Okay, okay, I'll be right there."
"Your mom just got here and needs help with the younger ones, I'm going to go help them okay? We'll be ten minutes max." Your dad then looks to Santos, "Can you watch her please?"
Santos blinks, slightly shocked before she nods, "Yeah sure."
You nod once more before your dad kisses you on the head before he goes, leaving you and Santos alone.
"Is he going to get into more trouble?" You ask the doctor, breaking the silence in the room.
"Erm- what do you mean?"
"I'm fourteen, I notice things. When you're use to your dad working fifty hours a week and then suddenly he disappears for a whole month before he's back home…kinda, you realise that something had happened," Your words are heavy, tired of keeping a secret for almost a year, "I heard my parents fighting almost every night and I comforted Tanner when it woke him up but I didn't tell them this. I don't know what happened exactly and they refuse to tell me but I know he was really nervous to go to work this morning, it being his first in almost a year."
Santos stutters, "I..I don't think I can tell you. It's not my place."
"That's fine, I don't care. Not really. I just want him to be okay, I don't want him to get into more trouble because he spent his first day back with me."
Santos sighs as she sits on the stool next to your bed, "Your dad isn't going to get into trouble, especially not for this."
"Are you sure?"
Santos nods, realising at fourteen you shouldn't be worried about things like this so she reassures you, "Yes, I'm sure. It's like when you join a new school or club, the first day is always the worst."
You stare at her for a few moments, you can tell she was holding something back but she was also being truthful in her words, so you nod in thanks.
Sometimes I want to participate in episode discourse but then I come online (not just tumblr) scroll the tag and then log out lmao
Fandom spaces have changed a lot since covid and maybe it’s because I’m older now but omg, it’s almost unbearable.
I think a lot of people are projecting themselves onto these characters and take slights against the characters personally. I feel like most of the fandom is young and are still in school/uni/college and don’t get what it’s like to work in professional environment, and this shows in the poor episode/character analysis that people do.
