synopsis: After Frank gets a low level locker, his back pain returns much worse. During a busy ER shift, bending over patients makes it worse. You find him in the break room, overwhelmed, and you stay to comfort him.
warnings: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, mention of rehab, no use of y/n, robby, medical inaccuracies, emotional distress, no abby here!!, fear of losing the reader, langdon overthinking, poor langdon getting poor treatment despite trying his best :(((
a/n: excuse any grammar errorsss, enjoy!! not proofread
"...I don't want you working in my ER."
Those were the words that had been echoing inside Frank's mind for the past week.
Despite Robby being on sabbatical, his words weren't something Frank could easily forget. They followed him everywhere, even when he tried not to think about them. Every time he walked into the hospital, every time he put on his scrubs, every time he stood over a patient, there they were again.
He walked into the locker hall, already dreading the shift ahead of him. Another dreadful day of meeting his locker. Another painful shift.
Without the meds, it had become harder for him to hide the pain. His back had been acting up again for the past weeks, coming and going whenever it felt like it. He had been trying to ignore it, though. He couldn't afford to let it get in the way. Not now.
He was determined to prove that he had changed.
And, more importantly, his girlfriend was finally coming back today.
She had been out of the country for two weeks for a surgery seminar, one of only five people selected from every hospital in California to attend. He had been proud of her, of course, but that didn't mean he hadn't missed her like crazy.
And the first thing that greeted him when he entered the locker hall was, of course, his locker.
And his beautiful girlfriend waiting right beside it.
"Frankie!"
He barely had time to react before you threw your arms around him.
"I missed you! I'm so, so sorry that I wasn't able to be there on your first day back—"
"Don't worry about it." Frank immediately wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer. He buried his face against your hair, taking in your familiar scent as his hand rubbed slow circles against your back. "That was really important, but I'm glad you're here today. I missed you too, baby."
"Still..." You pulled away just enough to look at him. "One persuasion and I would've come rushing back for you."
Frank laughed softly.
"You would've gotten yourself in trouble."
"Would've been worth it."
He smiled, shaking his head before pulling you back into another hug.
"I missed you so much," he mumbled against your hair.
"I—can't believe you're doing so much better."
"Couldn't do it without you." He chuckled, giving you a small squeeze before finally pulling away. "Wait, let me change before Dana nags me for being late."
He reached down for his bag, unzipping it before turning toward his locker.
Then he slowly bent his knees.
His hand instinctively went to the small of his back.
A sharp twinge shot through him.
He immediately hid the wince, forcing his expression back to normal before you could notice.
Unfortunately for him, you did.
"What? Who in their right mind gave you a bottom locker?" You frowned, glancing between him and the locker. "I'll tell the admins abou—"
"No!" Frank straightened a little too quickly and immediately regretted it. "Don't. I—I don't wanna cause a problem."
"But you can't keep on having a low locker!" You stepped closer, lowering your voice. "This will make it harder for you, Frankie. You can have my locker, alright? It's too high for me anyways."
"What? No, no—don't do that." He shook his head, reaching for the edge of the locker. "That's too much to ask for— you have scoliosis, baby. It'll cause you problems too."
"Don't worry!" You waved him off. "Plus, it's just mild. It's not as bad as chronic pain, honey."
"Are you sure?"
"Of course!"
You gave him a smile before tilting your head.
"Buttttt..."
Frank raised an eyebrow.
"You want a kiss?"
"How'd you know?" You immediately grinned. "C'mere. You know me so well, ugh."
Frank stepped toward you, finally forgetting about the locker for a moment. He leaned down, one hand gently coming up to caress your cheek as he kissed you. He didn't care if anyone saw. He had missed you too much.
You leaned into him, your hands resting against his chest—
Until a very obvious fake cough interrupted you both.
You pulled away immediately.
Both of you looked toward the source.
Dana stood there with her arms crossed, pushing her glasses further up her nose.
"Gloria ain't paying you both to make out! Get to work!"
"There's..." Frank glanced at the clock. "Still ten minutes, Dana! We'll be right there!"
"You better!"
Dana turned around and walked away, still shaking her head.
"You better change into your scrubs, Frank, before she comes back."
You leaned up and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, tapping it twice softly before turning back toward your locker.
"Oh, my locker is the one above yours, so..." You pointed upward. "Consider our lockers soulmates."
Frank laughed. "I'll be right back."
"Make it quick!" you called after him. "I'll be switching our stuff while you're at it."
"Yes, ma'am."
The rest of the shift continued with stolen glances between the two of you whenever you happened to cross paths.
You'd catch him looking at you from across the ER, and he'd quickly pretend to be looking at a chart.
Sometimes you'd catch him smiling.
Sometimes he'd catch you staring first.
It was enough to make the shift feel a little less dreadful.
Until a trauma call came in.
Five minutes later, you spotted Langdon standing beside McKay, already pulling on his gloves.
"Dune Jacobs, eight-year-old male, fell from the monkey bars," someone announced. "Obvious deformity and swelling to the left forearm, limited range of motion, and tenderness around the distal radius. Possible closed fracture. Also has swelling and tenderness around the right lateral ankle after landing awkwardly. No loss of consciousness, vitals stable."
You only caught bits and pieces of the handoff before another patient pulled your attention away.
For the next two hours, you were busy with your own patients.
Eventually, though, you began to realize you hadn't seen Frank in a while.
Surely a broken arm and a sprained ankle wouldn't take two hours.
You glanced around the ER before looking toward Dana.
"Hey, Dana. Have you seen Langdon?"
"Took a break just a while ago." Dana didn't even look up from the chart she was reading. "Go check on him and make sure he ain't slacking off."
"Gotcha!"
You headed toward the break room, pushing the door open without knocking.
And immediately stopped.
Frank was sitting on the floor against the wall, his elbows resting on his knees and the palms of his hands pressed against his eyes.
His shoulders rose and fell slowly.
"Hey..."
He didn't move.
"Frankie?"
His hands dropped immediately.
He looked up at you, almost startled, his eyes slightly pink.
"S-shit..." He quickly wiped underneath one eye with his thumb. "I did not think you'd go in here."
You closed the door behind you.
"Well, I did."
He looked away.
"Uh... I thought you just had a patient come in."
"Pfft." You walked over and crouched in front of him. "A second-degree burn? Gave it to a second year. They can handle it."
You reached for his hand.
"But what happened? Tell me, baby."
He didn't answer so you gently squeezed his fingers.
"Don't shut me out again."
"I—"
He looked down at his hands, "I think I tweaked my back again."
Your expression immediately softened.
"It's been on and off the past week." He rubbed the back of his neck, looking embarrassed. "And is it just me, or have the gurneys been seriously too low?"
"Oh, Frank."
You sat down beside him on the floor.
"You should've told me sooner. I would've told them to raise every gurney for you."
"I know"
"And maybe you should go to PT, yeah?" You nudged his knee gently. "I know you've been thinking about it, and I think it's a good idea to do it soon."
"Y-yeah." He nodded slowly. "I'll probably go up to their floor later."
"You better."
You reached up and gently caressed his cheek, brushing your thumb underneath his eye.
He leaned into your touch almost instinctively.
"Do you want to go home soon?" you asked quietly. "You need rest too, baby."
"I don't know..."
"Don't want 'em to think it's an excuse to go home early."
You frowned.
"Frank, you're in pain."
"I can still work."
"You don't have to prove anything by hurting yourself."
You moved closer, resting your shoulder against his.
"I can take your patients for today."
His head immediately snapped toward you.
"What? You already gave me your locker, you can't—"
"Aht!" You held up a finger. "Fret no more, thy I, your savior, am offering salva—"
Frank laughed quietly then he leaned forward and kissed you. His hand came up to the back of your head, gently pulling you closer.
For a moment, everything else disappeared.
God, what would he do without you?
That thought crossed his mind before he could stop it.
He had spent the past week trying so hard to convince everyone that he was okay. Trying to prove that he was better. Trying to prove that he wasn't going to fall back into the same habits, that he could still be the doctor everyone needed him to be.
And somehow, you were the only person who made him feel like he didn't have to prove anything.
You pulled away slightly, your forehead resting against his.
"Thank you. I—I love you, okay?"
You smiled softly.
"I don't say it much lately, but I'm grateful for you being by my side. I wouldn't know what I'd do without you." He swallowed, looking down. "I don't know how you put up with me, because I wouldn't myself, but—"
"I love you, Frank."
You gently took his hand.
"If it means sticking through a point in life where it's too hard on you, I'm always here, aren't I?"
He looked at you.
"And don't be scared to tell me anything. I'm here for you. Always."
Frank stared at you for a moment, his eyes still slightly red. He gave you a small smile, but you could tell he was trying not to cry again.
"You make it sound so easy."
"What?"
"Being there for me."
You shook your head.
"It's not always easy."
Your thumb brushed over his knuckles.
"But you're worth it."
He looked down at his hands, trying to avoid your eyesight but you tilt his chin towards you.
"I just hate this." He let out a shaky breath. "I hate feeling like I can't do something as simple as bend over a patient without my back deciding it wants to ruin my entire day."
You give him a moment to speak again.
"And Robby's voice is still in my head."
He gave a tired laugh, but there was no humor behind it.
"Every time I slow down, I just hear him saying he doesn't want me working in his ER."
Your expression softened.
"Frank..."
"I know he's on sabbatical. I know he's not even here." He leaned his head back against the wall, closing his eyes. "But it doesn't matter."
His fingers tightened around yours.
"It's like I'm constantly trying to prove that I deserve to be here. That I'm not the same person I was before rehab. That I'm not going to mess up again."
"You don't have to prove that to me."
"I know."
His voice got quieter.
"But I have to prove it to myself."
You moved closer, gently taking his hand between both of yours.
"You came back."
He opened his eyes.
"You went through rehab. You got clean. You came back to work even when you were terrified that everyone would look at you differently."
You squeezed his hand.
"You've been trying your best every single day, Frank. One bad week doesn't erase any of that."
His fingers tightened around yours.
"I just don't want to lose everything again."
"You're not."
"You don't know that."
"I know that you're sitting here scared because you care. I know that you're still trying. And I know that if your back is hurting this badly, going home for the day doesn't make you weak."
He looked away, swallowing hard.
"What if they think I'm using it as an excuse?"
"Then let them think whatever they want."
He gave you a faint smile.
"Easy for you to say."
"Fine." You nudged his knee with yours. "Then I'll tell them you were kidnapped by your extremely gorgeous girlfriend."
He finally let out a chuckle. It was small and breathy, but it was enough reassurance for you.
You smiled when you saw some of the tension leave his shoulders.
He reached up and tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear.
"I missed you."
"I missed you too."
"I really did."
"I know."
He leaned forward until his forehead rested against yours, his eyes closing again.
"Can we just stay like this for a minute?"
"Of course."
You sat beside him on the floor, letting him lean against you.
For once, Frank didn't try to hide the way his body ached.
He didn't pretend everything was fine.
He just let himself rest, his fingers loosely intertwined with yours.
After a few quiet moments, he whispered, "I'll go see PT later."
"Promise?"
"Promise."
"And you're going home after your shift."
He hesitated.
"Frank."
"Okay, okay." He sighed. "I'm going home."
"Good. I'll be right there once my shift ends."
He squeezed your hand.
"God, I love you."
"I love you too, Frankie."
For a few more seconds, neither of you moved.
Until Dana's voice suddenly echoed from outside the break room.
"LANGDON! IF YOU'RE DEAD IN THERE, I'M STILL PUTTING YOU DOWN FOR YOUR NEXT PATIENT!"
"...Maybe we should go."
"Yeah."
He placed his hands against the floor and slowly pushed himself up.
The moment he straightened, he winced.
You immediately reached for his arm.
"Easy."
"I'm fine."
"Don't 'I'm fine' me."
"Yes, ma'am."
You helped him to his feet, keeping a hand against his back as he steadied himself.
He didn't pull away.
He simply let you stay beside him as you both walked back toward the ER.
synopsis: As Jack struggles to let go of the past, you start to question your place in his heart.
warning: angst, hurt/comfort, mention of jack's dead wife, self-doubt, fear of being replaced, injury, inaccurate medical terms, mild language, no use of y/n, stressed abbott, misunderstanding, crying, argument, grief, slight jack ooc (because bffr, our king would never)
a/n: imma js name abbott's old wife as natalie, since it was never specified in the show. don't hesitate to reach out if i left out warnings, tysm!! xoxo love yall + not proofread
You still remembered when you first wore it.
"You look beautiful, sweetheart."
The memory came so naturally, as if your mind was cruel enough to remind you of better days. You remembered the way Jack smiled at you that evening, his tired eyes softening the moment he saw you. He had wrapped his arms around your waist and kissed your forehead, holding you close before pulling away just enough to admire you.
"I think this one's my favorite."
You laughed. "The dress?"
"No," he'd chuckled, squeezing your hand. "You. But the dress helps."
Ever since then, you'd find yourself reaching for it whenever the two of you went out. Maybe because you loved seeing that smile on his face. Maybe because hearing him call you beautiful never failed to make your heart flutter, even after years together.
But tonight, there was no smile.
Despite that little flame of hope inside you, you knew it would be useless. Strudding to your shared bedroom, you took your dress off and put on your pajamas. Taking your make-up off with wipes and making your way to the bed to lay face down. You checked your phone one last time, but still nothing. It was futile trying to wait for him, it would just hurt more.
Tears falling as you lay on your bed alone, with Jack's side empty. You drifted to your thoughts, wondering since when the two of you had drifted so much.
You knew Jack was busy. You knew being a trauma surgeon wasn't easy, and you knew he was trying. God, you knew he was trying. But sometimes, you couldn't help but miss him. Not the Jack that came home exhausted and collapsed on the couch, nor the Jack who spent half his meals answering calls from the hospital. You missed the Jack who used to drag you into slow dances in the kitchen while dinner burned in the background. The Jack who would kiss your temple and whisper that he'd be home early, only to actually keep that promise.
Maybe that's why it hurt so much.
Because for the first time since marrying Jack, you found yourself wondering if he missed you too.
You didn't know when you fell asleep, but the sound of the bedroom door creaking open slowly woke you. Your eyes opened slightly, and through the darkness, you saw Jack walking in with his pajamas and phone still in his hand. He looked exhausted, his hair messy and his eyes tired, but instead of feeling relieved that he was finally home, you felt the anger you'd been trying to suppress come rushing back.
"Jack?"
He stopped when he heard your voice. "Sweets, I'm—"
"Where were you, Jack? Did you forget? Again?"
"I'm sorry, just listen to me."
"Listen to what, Jack? An ass apology?" You pushed yourself up from the bed, your voice already shaking. "And don't you dare tell me that they needed manpower in the ER when I called Lena and she said that you left early. So where were you? Cheating?"
"STOP." His voice echoed through the room before he immediately lowered it. "Just—fuck, I didn't mean to—"
"I asked you where you were."
Jack ran a hand through his hair, looking frustrated and exhausted at the same time. "I was at Natalie's house."
You stared at him, your anger faltering for only a second. "'For what, Jack?"
"I needed to calm my mind, okay?"
"You—you could've told me!" You stood up from the bed, tears already spilling down your cheeks. "I felt like a fucking dog waiting for a text or the sound of your keys."
"I said I'm sorry."
"That's all you ever say." You shook your head, wiping your tears with the back of your hand. "Jack, stop it."
"Stop what?"
"Stop this! You've been out of it lately! I'm your wife—you can tell me anything." Your voice cracked as you looked at him. "Please. You've been distancing yourself, we barely talk, you don't even touch me anymore!"
Jack's jaw clenched as he looked away, clearly overwhelmed by everything you were saying. "You're not my fucking wife—don't you dare—"
The words left his mouth before he could stop them.
The moment he realized what he'd said, his expression changed completely.
"Wait, I didn't—"
"Really, Jack?" You stared at him, tears filling your eyes. "Is that what you really think?"
"Of course not! I'm so sorry, sweets. I didn't mean that—"
He tried to grab your arm, but you immediately stepped back, looking at him like he'd just broken something between you that you weren't sure could be fixed.
"Don't."
Jack froze.
"You want space?" you asked, your voice trembling. "Fine."
You moved past him and reached for the wardrobe, grabbing a suitcase and slamming it onto the bed before opening it and beginning to dump your clothes inside messily. Jack watched you in panic, finally realizing that this wasn't just another argument that would be forgotten by morning.
"Baby, please. I didn't mean that. I'm so sorry."
You ignored him, grabbing another shirt and shoving it into the suitcase.
"Are you sure you didn't mean it?"
"Yes."
"Your actions say otherwise." You turned toward him, tears falling freely now. "Fuck, I thought you loved me!"
"I do love you!" Jack stepped closer. "Calm down, let's talk about this."
You flicked his grip away when he tried to touch you again. "Jack, stop. I'll—I'll leave, okay? I'll give you the space you need."
You changed into a pair of jeans and a jacket, not bothering to care whether he saw you in your undergarments. You grabbed your phone and keys from the nightstand while Jack stood there, watching you like he couldn't believe you were actually leaving.
"Don't leave, sweets." His voice cracked. "I'm sorry, okay? I don't need space. Hit me, slap me, scream at me, just don't leave."
You slipped your shoes on and reached for the door.
"Please."
You didn't turn around.
Jack shouted your name one last time, but the door had already shut.
And just like that, you were gone.
It had been three days. Jack had been working overtime in an attempt to remove his wife—yes, his wife—from his mind. Maybe they did need space. Maybe they needed to clear their heads before having another conversation. At least, that was what he kept telling himself. The truth was that he couldn't stop thinking about you. Every quiet moment reminded him of the argument. Every time he came home, he expected to see you somewhere in the house, and every time he remembered that you weren't there, the guilt came back all over again. He had spent three days trying to convince himself that leaving you alone was the right thing to do, but he wasn't even sure anymore.
"Hey, Abbot! Seven minutes ETA. Incoming trauma from a tire slip. Jane Doe has broken ribs from CPR, pneumothorax, a few lacerations, and possible head trauma."
Jack immediately looked up from the paperwork in front of him. "That's the fourth one today. This damn storm isn't stopping anytime soon."
"Right, but should be better by the time we go home in the morning."
The moment the ambulance doors burst open, Jack and Parker were already there. The paramedics rushed the patient inside, shouting out information as they moved.
"She flatlined and we gave her CPR and a shot of Epineph—"
Jack looked at the patient.
And froze.
For a second, he couldn't breathe.
He knew that face.
It was you.
The woman lying unconscious on the gurney was his wife. The same woman he'd driven away three days ago. The same woman he hadn't gotten the chance to properly apologize to. The same woman he'd spent the last three days pretending he could live without.
"Holy shit..."
Parker immediately noticed his expression. "Lena! Shen! Get Abbot away from here!"
"I'm not fucking leaving her." Jack took a step toward the gurney, his voice shaking. "I—I have to—"
"Jack, you can't treat her. Me and Shen will handle this."
Shen grabbed his arm and pulled him back. "We got this. Have some faith, yeah?"
"No! Damn it, I have to be by her side!"
Jack tried to rush toward the trauma room, but Lena blocked his way.
"You can't help her when you're not thinking straight. Pull yourself together, Abbot."
Jack stared through the doors as they wheeled you away. His hands were shaking, and he could barely get the words out.
"T-tell them to take care of her, please."
"Trust them, alright? She'll be fine."
"You can't just say that!" Jack's voice broke. "I can't fucking lose her."
"Calm down! This won't do you any good."
The doors closed, leaving Jack standing there helplessly. For the first time in his career, he hated the fact that he couldn't do anything. He could treat strangers. He could make decisions when everyone else was panicking. He could stand over a dying patient and tell everyone what to do without his hands shaking.
But this was you.
And suddenly, he didn't know what to do.
After what felt like an hour, Shen and Parker finally came out of the trauma room. Jack immediately rushed toward them.
"Abbot—"
"Status?"
Parker sighed at his persistence. "She's going to be fine, but for now, we won't know the extent of her head trauma until she wakes up. Memory loss is still possible—"
Jack barely let her finish before pulling both surgeons into a hug, his voice barely audible as he whispered a string of thank yous. "Thank you. Thank you. Thank you."
The two surgeons eventually left to give Jack and his wife some time alone.
Jack walked into the room slowly, his eyes immediately finding you. You looked so peaceful despite everything, and somehow that made it worse. He pulled a chair beside the bed and sat down, carefully taking your hand in his.
"Shit, I'm so sorry."
His thumb brushed against your knuckles.
"For everything that I said. Don't leave me, please. I—I can't do this without you."
He looked at your unconscious face, his other hand moving to gently caress your hair.
"I love you."
His voice broke.
"I've always loved you."
He had been sitting beside you for who knows how long, definitely long enough for Robby to eventually come in and substitute for him, but Jack refused to leave until exhaustion finally got the better of him.
A faint groan woke him up.
Jack's eyes opened immediately, and when he felt your fingers twitch against his hand, he stood up so suddenly that pain shot through his prosthetic after hours of wearing it. He ignored it completely.
"Hey, hey. You're okay. I'm here, baby."
Your eyes slowly opened.
"W-what happened?"
"You got into an accident, but you're fine." His voice was shaking. "S-Shen and Parker saved you."
He swallowed hard, his eyes searching your face.
"Y-you remember me, right?"
You stared at him for a moment, still confused and groggy from the medication.
"Jack..."
Jack let out a shaky breath, his eyes immediately filling with tears.
"Oh, thank God."
He took your hand again, almost afraid to let go.
"Just let me apologize, please. I'm sorry for what I did and said. I never meant any of them. I—I was scared that I'd lose you like I lost Natalie, and I started to isolate myself. I couldn't stay home. Not with you there, reminding me that I could lose you at any moment and fuck—I made it worse. I didn't mean to. Everything I said was a mistake. I didn't mean any of it and I'm so sorry."
He was practically rambling now, words coming out faster than he could think.
"You would've never gotten in an accident because of me."
His grip tightened around your hand.
"I can't live without you."
You looked at him, your eyes still heavy.
"Jack, calm down..."
He immediately quieted.
"I was hurt, Jack. It's been weeks since we last spent time together and my head was so full of thoughts that maybe you stopped loving me. That maybe I was incompetent and nothing like Natalie. I couldn't handle it."
Jack's expression softened, and he shook his head.
"Don't you ever think that."
He leaned closer, gently brushing his thumb against your cheek.
"I'm sorry for ever making you doubt yourself, baby. I could never replace you, let alone think of that. I'll spend my entire life making it up to you. J-just don’t leave me.”
You looked at him for a moment before giving him the smallest smile.
"What? Of course I won't leave you, Jack. I love you too much for that."
Jack's teary eyes met yours, and for a moment, neither of you said anything. He simply stared at you as if he needed to make sure you were really there, that you were really awake, that you were still his.
Then, without thinking, Jack leaned forward and smashed his lips against yours. The kiss was rushed and desperate, but still gentle, like neither of you wanted to let go after everything that had happened. His hand stayed wrapped around yours while his other hand rested carefully against your cheek.
When he finally pulled away, his forehead rested against yours.
synopsis: As Jack struggles to let go of the past, you start to question your place in his heart.
warning: angst, hurt/comfort, mention of jack's dead wife, self-doubt, fear of being replaced, injury, inaccurate medical terms, mild language, no use of y/n, stressed abbott, misunderstanding, crying, argument, grief, slight jack ooc (because bffr, our king would never)
a/n: imma js name abbot's old wife as natalie, since it was never specified in the show. don't hesitate to reach out if i left out warnings, tysm!! xoxo love yall + not proofread
You still remembered when you first wore it.
"You look beautiful, sweetheart."
The memory came so naturally, as if your mind was cruel enough to remind you of better days. You remembered the way Jack smiled at you that evening, his tired eyes softening the moment he saw you. He had wrapped his arms around your waist and kissed your forehead, holding you close before pulling away just enough to admire you.
"I think this one's my favorite."
You laughed. "The dress?"
"No," he'd chuckled, squeezing your hand. "You. But the dress helps."
Ever since then, you'd find yourself reaching for it often whenever the two of you went out. Maybe because you loved seeing that smile on his face. Maybe because hearing him call you beautiful never failed to make your heart flutter, even after years together.
But tonight, there was no smile.
Despite that little flame of hope inside you, you knew it would be useless. Strudding to your shared bedroom, you took your dress off and put on your pajamas. Taking your make-up off with wipes and making your way to the bed to lay face down. You checked your phone one last time, but still nothing. It was futile trying to wait for him, it would just hurt more.
Tears falling as you lay on your bed alone, with Jack's side empty. You drifted to your thoughts, wondering since when the two of you had drifted so much.
You knew Jack was busy. You knew being in emergency medicine wasn't easy, and you knew he was trying. God, you knew he was trying. But sometimes, you couldn't help but miss him. Not the Jack that came home exhausted and collapsed on the couch, nor the Jack who spent half his meals answering calls from the hospital. You missed the Jack who used to drag you into slow dances in the kitchen while dinner burned in the background. The Jack who would kiss your temple and whisper that he'd be home early, only to actually keep that promise.
Maybe that's why it hurt so much.
Because for the first time since marrying Jack, you found yourself wondering if he missed you too.
You didn't know when you fell asleep, but the sound of the bedroom door creaking open slowly woke you. Your eyes opened slightly, and through the darkness, you saw Jack walking in with his pajamas and phone still in his hand. He looked exhausted, his hair messy and his eyes tired, but instead of feeling relieved that he was finally home, you felt the anger you'd been trying to suppress come rushing back.
"Jack?"
He stopped when he heard your voice. "Sweets, I'm—"
"Where were you, Jack? Did you forget? Again?"
"I'm sorry, just listen to me."
"Listen to what, Jack? An ass apology?" You pushed yourself up from the bed, your voice already shaking. "And don't you dare tell me that they needed manpower in the ER when I called Lena and she said that you left early. So where were you? Cheating?"
"STOP." His voice echoed through the room before he immediately lowered it. "Just—fuck, I didn't mean to—"
"I asked you where you were."
Jack ran a hand through his hair, looking frustrated and exhausted at the same time. "I was at Natalie's house."
You stared at him, your anger faltering for only a second. "'For what, Jack?"
"I needed to calm my mind, okay?"
"You—you could've told me!" You stood up from the bed, tears already spilling down your cheeks. "I felt like a fucking dog waiting for a text or the sound of your keys."
"I said I'm sorry."
"That's all you ever say." You shook your head, wiping your tears with the back of your hand. "Jack, stop it."
"Stop what?"
"Stop this! You've been out of it lately! I'm your wife—you can tell me anything." Your voice cracked as you looked at him. "Please. You've been distancing yourself, we barely talk, you don't even touch me anymore!"
Jack's jaw clenched as he looked away, clearly overwhelmed by everything you were saying. "You're not my fucking wife—don't you dare—"
The words left his mouth before he could stop them.
The moment he realized what he'd said, his expression changed completely.
"Wait, I didn't—"
"Really, Jack?" You stared at him, tears filling your eyes. "Is that what you really think?"
"Of course not! I'm so sorry, sweets. I didn't mean that—"
He tried to grab your arm, but you immediately stepped back, looking at him like he'd just broken something between you that you weren't sure could be fixed.
"Don't."
Jack froze.
"You want space?" you asked, your voice trembling. "Fine."
You moved past him and reached for the wardrobe, grabbing a suitcase and slamming it onto the bed before opening it and beginning to dump your clothes inside messily. Jack watched you in panic, finally realizing that this wasn't just another argument that would be forgotten by morning.
"Baby, please. I didn't mean that. I'm so sorry."
You ignored him, grabbing another shirt and shoving it into the suitcase.
"Are you sure you didn't mean it?"
"Yes."
"Your actions say otherwise." You turned toward him, tears falling freely now. "Fuck, I thought you loved me!"
"I do love you!" Jack stepped closer. "Calm down, let's talk about this."
You flicked his grip away when he tried to touch you again. "Jack, stop. I'll—I'll leave, okay? I'll give you the space you need."
You changed into a pair of jeans and a jacket, not bothering to care whether he saw you in your undergarments. You grabbed your phone and keys from the nightstand while Jack stood there, watching you like he couldn't believe you were actually leaving.
"Don't leave, sweets." His voice cracked. "I'm sorry, okay? I don't need space. Hit me, slap me, scream at me, just don't leave."
You slipped your shoes on and reached for the door.
"Please."
You didn't turn around.
Jack shouted your name one last time, but the door had already shut.
And just like that, you were gone.
It had been three days. Jack had been working overtime in an attempt to remove his wife—yes, his wife—from his mind. Maybe they did need space. Maybe they needed to clear their heads before having another conversation. At least, that was what he kept telling himself. The truth was that he couldn't stop thinking about you. Every quiet moment reminded him of the argument. Every time he came home, he expected to see you somewhere in the house, and every time he remembered that you weren't there, the guilt came back all over again. He had spent three days trying to convince himself that leaving you alone was the right thing to do, but he wasn't even sure anymore.
"Hey, Abbot! Seven minutes ETA. Incoming trauma from a tire slip. Jane Doe has broken ribs from CPR, pneumothorax, a few lacerations, and possible head trauma."
Jack immediately looked up from the paperwork in front of him. "That's the fourth one today. This damn storm isn't stopping anytime soon."
"Right, but should be better by the time we go home in the morning."
The moment the ambulance doors burst open, Jack and Parker were already there. The paramedics rushed the patient inside, shouting out information as they moved.
"She flatlined and we gave her CPR and a shot of Epineph—"
Jack looked at the patient.
And froze.
For a second, he couldn't breathe.
He knew that face.
It was you.
The woman lying unconscious on the gurney was his wife. The same woman he'd driven away three days ago. The same woman he hadn't gotten the chance to properly apologize to. The same woman he'd spent the last three days pretending he could live without.
"Holy shit..."
Parker immediately noticed his expression. "Lena! Shen! Get Abbot away from here!"
"I'm not fucking leaving her." Jack took a step toward the gurney, his voice shaking. "I—I have to—"
"Jack, you can't treat her. Me and Shen will handle this."
Shen grabbed his arm and pulled him back. "We got this. Have some faith, yeah?"
"No! Damn it, I have to be by her side!"
Jack tried to rush toward the trauma room, but Lena blocked his way.
"You can't help her when you're not thinking straight. Pull yourself together, Abbot."
Jack stared through the doors as they wheeled you away. His hands were shaking, and he could barely get the words out.
"T-tell them to take care of her, please."
"Trust them, alright? She'll be fine."
"You can't just say that!" Jack's voice broke. "I can't fucking lose her."
"Calm down! This won't do you any good."
The doors closed, leaving Jack standing there helplessly. For the first time in his career, he hated the fact that he couldn't do anything. He could treat strangers. He could make decisions when everyone else was panicking. He could stand over a dying patient and tell everyone what to do without his hands shaking.
But this was you.
And suddenly, he didn't know what to do.
After what felt like an hour, Shen and Parker finally came out of the trauma room. Jack immediately rushed toward them.
"Abbot—"
"Status?"
Parker sighed at his persistence. "She's going to be fine, but for now, we won't know the extent of her head trauma until she wakes up. Memory loss is still possible—"
Jack barely let her finish before pulling both surgeons into a hug, his voice barely audible as he whispered a string of thank yous. "Thank you. Thank you. Thank you."
The two surgeons eventually left to give Jack and his wife some time alone.
Jack walked into the room slowly, his eyes immediately finding you. You looked so peaceful despite everything, and somehow that made it worse. He pulled a chair beside the bed and sat down, carefully taking your hand in his.
"Shit, I'm so sorry."
His thumb brushed against your knuckles.
"For everything that I said. Don't leave me, please. I—I can't do this without you."
He looked at your unconscious face, his other hand moving to gently caress your hair.
"I love you."
His voice broke.
"I've always loved you."
He had been sitting beside you for who knows how long, definitely long enough for Robby to eventually come in and substitute for him, but Jack refused to leave until exhaustion finally got the better of him.
A faint groan woke him up.
Jack's eyes opened immediately, and when he felt your fingers twitch against his hand, he stood up so suddenly that pain shot through his prosthetic after hours of wearing it. He ignored it completely.
"Hey, hey. You're okay. I'm here, baby."
Your eyes slowly opened.
"W-what happened?"
"You got into an accident, but you're fine." His voice was shaking. "S-Shen and Parker saved you."
He swallowed hard, his eyes searching your face.
"Y-you remember me, right?"
You stared at him for a moment, still confused and groggy from the medication.
"Jack..."
Jack let out a shaky breath, his eyes immediately filling with tears.
"Oh, thank God."
He took your hand again, almost afraid to let go.
"Just let me apologize, please. I'm sorry for what I did and said. I never meant any of them. I—I was scared that I'd lose you like I lost Natalie, and I started to isolate myself. I couldn't stay home. Not with you there, reminding me that I could lose you at any moment and fuck—I made it worse. I didn't mean to. Everything I said was a mistake. I didn't mean any of it and I'm so sorry."
He was practically rambling now, words coming out faster than he could think.
"You would've never gotten in an accident because of me."
His grip tightened around your hand.
"I can't live without you."
You looked at him, your eyes still heavy.
"Jack, calm down..."
He immediately quieted.
"I was hurt, Jack. It's been weeks since we last spent time together and my head was so full of thoughts that maybe you stopped loving me. That maybe I was incompetent and nothing like Natalie. I couldn't handle it."
Jack's expression softened, and he shook his head.
"Don't you ever think that."
He leaned closer, gently brushing his thumb against your cheek.
"I'm sorry for ever making you doubt yourself, baby. I could never replace you, let alone think of that. I'll spend my entire life making it up to you. J-just don’t leave me.”
You looked at him for a moment before giving him the smallest smile.
"What? Of course I won't leave you, Jack. I love you too much for that."
Jack's teary eyes met yours, and for a moment, neither of you said anything. He simply stared at you as if he needed to make sure you were really there, that you were really awake, that you were still his.
Then, without thinking, Jack leaned forward and smashed his lips against yours. The kiss was rushed and desperate, but still gentle, like neither of you wanted to let go after everything that had happened. His hand stayed wrapped around yours while his other hand rested carefully against your cheek.
When he finally pulled away, his forehead rested against yours.
synopsis: Frank crushing his benzos then sprinkling it on your pussy and letting him eat you out.
warning: MDNI, smut, oral (f!receiving), fingering, squirting, pussy drunk, under the influence, drug use, VERY inappropriate use of benzos, overstim, no use of y/n, mild language, pet-names for reader
a/n: pardon any grammar errors and don't hesitate to reach out if i left out some warnings, tysm!! i'd rlly appreciate comments, likes, n reblogs lololol
Frank's drug addiction didn't come of as alarming, considering that everyone is a little fucked up. That certainly didn't stop you either from being sprawled on the white sheets of his bed. As you wait for Frank to get something from another room, you lay naked and hair disheveled from your previous orgasm.
Waiting for him felt a little long, maybe because you were impatient or desperately needing another orgasm to erase all the stress from the ER.
"Sorry for the wait, baby." Frank walked through the doorway, holding a small ziplock. As he approached the side of the bed, he raised his hand and shook it in front of your face. "You okay with this? Ill do something with this, alright?"
You nod.
"Use your words, sweetheart." He said as he nuzzled his face on your neck while settling on the bed. "Yes-- Please, need you s'bad."
"Good girls have patience, hmm?" He tilted your chin to look at him. Settling in between your legs, he tapped your knee lightly. "Spread them for me, yeah? Can you do that for me?"
Slowly spreading your legs, he starts to open the ziplock. The desperate need for touch, your throbbing clit made you shut your eyes while waiting for some kind of action from him.
You felt a slight tingle from your pussy, slightly propping your upper body with your elbows to see that he sprinkled the powder on it. "Damn Benzos are clinging to you so well, shit. Looks so fucking good on you."
"Frank, please--"
Cutting you off, he sank right down then his tongue latching on your clit urgently. "Oh, shit-- Mhm!" Your hands started to grasp on his hair subconsciously and slightly pushing his head harder for more pressure. His mouth started to lower down on your hole and started to push his tongue in. Doing so, the top of his nose nudged your clit. Tears welling up on your eyes when you start to feel overstimulation. You start feeling the wet mess dripping down on the lower crevice of your ass.
Your mind kept drifting between the feeling of him and the pleasure building inside you. Without warning, his slender fingers pressed against your entrance before slowly pushing in to the second knuckle. Angling them upward, he applied pressure to the sensitive spot deep inside you.
"R-right there! Oh yes yes please just don't stop"
"You're really that needy? You're even riding my fingers--" He cuts himself off, switching from catching the dripping mess with his mouth on your clit to licking his fingers clean. "Mhm-- pussy s'good. You're doing so fucking good."
"Frank, wait! It feels different-- ngh!"
The sensation building up felt different, like a big orgasm but it's not like the usual one.
You tried to kick your legs away but he slips his arms under your things to anchor you onto his mouth. "Don't come yet, fuck. Let me enjoy this a little longer."
"I- I can't-- s'too much--" Lifting your hips in different ways to try and stop the unfamiliar orgasm but his tongue inside just kept hitting spots. Though his tongue wasn't reaching deep enough, his nose felt so good on your clit.
"Frank! Please--!"
Unable to hold it any longer, your orgasm crashed through you. A sudden splash of wetness dampened parts of your thighs, but God—the look on Frank’s face.
His hair was slightly damp, a glistening sheen trailing from his nose down to his chin, the tint of his lips impossible to miss, with faint traces of powder dusted along the side of his cheek.
synopsis: Frank crushing his benzos then sprinkling it on your pussy and letting him eat you out.
warning: MDNI, smut, oral (f!receiving), fingering, squirting, pussy drunk, under the influence, drug use, VERY inappropriate use of benzos, overstim, no use of y/n, mild language, pet-names for reader
a/n: pardon any grammar errors and don't hesitate to reach out if i left out some warnings, tysm!! i'd rlly appreciate comments, likes, n reblogs lololol
Frank's drug addiction didn't come of as alarming, considering that everyone is a little fucked up. That certainly didn't stop you either from being sprawled on the white sheets of his bed. As you wait for Frank to get something from another room, you lay naked and hair disheveled from your previous orgasm.
Waiting for him felt a little long, maybe because you were impatient or desperately needing another orgasm to erase all the stress from the ER.
"Sorry for the wait, baby." Frank walked through the doorway, holding a small ziplock. As he approached the side of the bed, he raised his hand and shook it in front of your face. "You okay with this? Ill do something with this, alright?"
You nod.
"Use your words, sweetheart." He said as he nuzzled his face on your neck while settling on the bed. "Yes-- Please, need you s'bad."
"Good girls have patience, hmm?" He tilted your chin to look at him. Settling in between your legs, he tapped your knee lightly. "Spread them for me, yeah? Can you do that for me?"
Slowly spreading your legs, he starts to open the ziplock. The desperate need for touch, your throbbing clit made you shut your eyes while waiting for some kind of action from him.
You felt a slight tingle from your pussy, slightly propping your upper body with your elbows to see that he sprinkled the powder on it. "Damn Benzos are clinging to you so well, shit. Looks so fucking good on you."
"Frank, please--"
Cutting you off, he sank right down then his tongue latching on your clit urgently. "Oh, shit-- Mhm!" Your hands started to grasp on his hair subconsciously and slightly pushing his head harder for more pressure. His mouth started to lower down on your hole and started to push his tongue in. Doing so, the top of his nose nudged your clit. Tears welling up on your eyes when you start to feel overstimulation. You start feeling the wet mess dripping down on the lower crevice of your ass.
Your mind kept drifting between the feeling of him and the pleasure building inside you. Without warning, his slender fingers pressed against your entrance before slowly pushing in to the second knuckle. Angling them upward, he applied pressure to the sensitive spot deep inside you.
"R-right there! Oh yes yes please just don't stop"
"You're really that needy? You're even riding my fingers--" He cuts himself off, switching from catching the dripping mess with his mouth on your clit to licking his fingers clean. "Mhm-- pussy s'good. You're doing so fucking good."
"Frank, wait! It feels different-- ngh!"
The sensation building up felt different, like a big orgasm but it's not like the usual one.
You tried to kick your legs away but he slips his arms under your things to anchor you onto his mouth. "Don't come yet, fuck. Let me enjoy this a little longer."
"I- I can't-- s'too much--" Lifting your hips in different ways to try and stop the unfamiliar orgasm but his tongue inside just kept hitting spots. Though his tongue wasn't reaching deep enough, his nose felt so good on your clit.
"Frank! Please--!"
Unable to hold it any longer, your orgasm crashed through you. A sudden splash of wetness dampened parts of your thighs, but God—the look on Frank’s face.
His hair was slightly damp, a glistening sheen trailing from his nose down to his chin, the tint of his lips impossible to miss, with faint traces of powder dusted along the side of his cheek.
synopsis: Frank crushing his benzos then sprinkling it on your pussy and letting him eat you out.
warning: MDNI, smut, oral (f!receiving), fingering, squirting, pussy drunk, under the influence, drug use, VERY inappropriate use of benzos, overstim, no use of y/n, mild language, pet-names for reader
a/n: pardon any grammar errors and don't hesitate to reach out if i left out some warnings, tysm!! i'd rlly appreciate comments, likes, n reblogs lololol
Frank's drug addiction didn't come of as alarming, considering that everyone is a little fucked up. That certainly didn't stop you either from being sprawled on the white sheets of his bed. As you wait for Frank to get something from another room, you lay naked and hair disheveled from your previous orgasm.
Waiting for him felt a little long, maybe because you were impatient or desperately needing another orgasm to erase all the stress from the ER.
"Sorry for the wait, baby." Frank walked through the doorway, holding a small ziplock. As he approached the side of the bed, he raised his hand and shook it in front of your face. "You okay with this? Ill do something with this, alright?"
You nod.
"Use your words, sweetheart." He said as he nuzzled his face on your neck while settling on the bed. "Yes—Please, need you s'bad."
"Good girls have patience, hmm?" He tilted your chin to look at him. Settling in between your legs, he tapped your knee lightly. "Spread them for me, yeah? Can you do that for me?"
Slowly spreading your legs, he starts to open the ziplock. The desperate need for touch, your throbbing clit made you shut your eyes while waiting for some kind of action from him.
You felt a slight tingle from your pussy, slightly propping your upper body with your elbows to see that he sprinkled the powder on it. "Damn Benzos are clinging to you so well, shit. Looks so fucking good on you."
"Frank, please—“
Cutting you off, he sank right down then his tongue latching on your clit urgently. "Oh, shit—Mhm!" Your hands started to grasp on his hair subconsciously and slightly pushing his head harder for more pressure. His mouth started to lower down on your hole and started to push his tongue in. Doing so, the top of his nose nudged your clit. Tears welling up on your eyes when you start to feel overstimulation. You start feeling the wet mess dripping down on the lower crevice of your ass.
Your mind kept drifting between the feeling of him and the pleasure building inside you. Without warning, his slender fingers pressed against your entrance before slowly pushing in to the second knuckle. Angling them upward, he applied pressure to the sensitive spot deep inside you.
"R-right there! Oh yes yes please just don't stop"
"You're really that needy? You're even riding my finger—" He cuts himself off, switching from catching the dripping mess with his mouth on your clit to licking his fingers clean. "Mhm—pussy s'good. You're doing so fucking well."
"Frank, wait! It feels different—ngh!"
The sensation building up felt different, like a big orgasm but it's not like the usual one.
You tried to kick your legs away but he slips his arms under your thighs to anchor you onto his mouth. "Don't come yet, yeah? Fuck, let me enjoy this a little longer."
"I—I can't— s'too much—" Lifting your hips in different ways to try and stop the unfamiliar orgasm but his tongue inside just kept hitting spots. Though his tongue wasn't reaching deep enough, his nose felt so good on your clit.
"Frank! Please—!"
Unable to hold it any longer, your orgasm crashed through you. A sudden splash of wetness dampened parts of your thighs, but God—the look on Frank’s face.
His hair was slightly damp, a glistening sheen trailing from his nose down to his chin, the tint of his lips impossible to miss, with faint traces of powder dusted along the side of his cheek.
