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[apfelkernchen]

I had the shittiest day at work. Like… truly awful.

Please cheer me up by reblogging this with your best Jack Abbot gif 🥲

I need something nice to look at 😭

[reviewsandreadathons-blog]

I hate days like that!! I hope tomorrow is better!!

[somethingeh]

Aces Universe

[inspired by aces by the something specials & taylor olin]

jack abbot x reader, plus a little one on the way <3

Aces

Wanna Bet?

What's In A Name?

Pop

---

requests open!

[aphrodites-divine-nectar]

I hate that I have to be that person on release day, but if I see you all passing around the Shawn Hatosy “Yes, Chef” audio like a Google Drive heirloom, I am going to personally call Shawn Hatosy to snitch on you…

Quinn is a small, woman-owned platform built to pay writers and voice actors. Quinn is a team of 11 people! This is not like Netflix where pirating it is sticking it to a corporation. It is directly cutting the people who made it out of getting paid. It also violates their terms and can get content taken down, which ruins it for everyone.

Also, these audios are intimate. Voice actors are performing vulnerability and desire for an audience that is choosing to be there. They’re mature, interested, and engaged. Leaking that outside of that space is invasive. Do not leak it. Do not be a creep.

If it is good enough to be foaming at the mouth over within hours, it is good enough to pay a few dollars for. Do not be strange about art you claim to love.

Support the arts. Yes, Chef.

[pittmebabyonemoretime]

the three times you couldn't sleep // jack abbot pt. 1

You are convinced Jack only sees you as a friend, but behind his cool exterior is a man fighting a losing battle against his own desires. Across three restless nights, the boundaries of your friendship are tested as Jack struggles to decide if being happy and falling for someone who makes him feel human again is worth the risk.

genre: doctor jack x bookseller! reader, friends to lovers, age gap, rom com because i think i'm funny, eventual smut 18+ nsfw

(a/n: ahhh yes. the time has come for a new series for meee. i started a new job, so I haven't been able to write as much, but this one came to me while I was daydreaming at work the other day lol. let me know if you want to be tagged, this will be a three part series!)

“This fucking duvet.”

You flung the bulky thing off your legs, the fabric suffocating against your skin. You flipped the pillow, searching for a cold side that didn't exist. But it was useless the stuffing was flat, and every position felt wrong.

You looked over at your cat curled into a perfect, peaceful sleeping crescent in her tower. “Give me your powers, Luna.” 

Twisting onto your side, you reached for your phone. The screen’s glare was blinding in the dark.

5:00 AM.

Jack would be finishing his shift at the ER right about now. You pictured him: the black scrubs, the hair a little messy after twelve hours of chaos, and those tired, kind eyes. He’d be exhausted. You shouldn’t bother him.

But the restlessness won. You hit the call button anyway, your thumb acting before your brain could protest. You weren't actually expecting him to answer. The plan was to leave a goofy, sleep deprived voicemail about your vendetta against your bedding and call it a day. You’d give him something to laugh at on his walk home.

The first ring echoed in your ear. Then a second.

You were already inhaling to start your "Hey, it’s me, don't mind the 5 AM rambling" speech when the line clicked.

Before you could even start your planned monologue, his voice came through the speaker.

“You know, people usually wait until the sun is up to start harassing me,” Jack said. “Or are you just calling to check if I’ve survived the night? Because I’ll have you know, a toddler sneezed directly into my eyeball around midnight, so there’s that.”

The mental image of the professional Dr. Abbot being taken down by a toddler caught you completely off guard.

A sound escaped you that was anything but graceful. A loud, snorting, unrestricted honk of a laugh. It was the kind of ugly, wheezing laugh you reserved for private, but in your sleep deprived state, it slipped.

On the other end of the line, Jack let out a soft laugh of his own.

“God, I’m sorry,” you wheezed as you rolled onto your back. “I didn’t actually expect you to pick up. I was going to leave you a weird message about my flat pillows.”

“Lucky for me I beat the voicemail, then.” You could hear his footsteps against pavement and the distant chirp of a morning bird. “I’m just walking home. Shift ended a bit ago. I had to come in early yesterday to help with an emergency event so they relieved me earlier than usual.”

“Oh I’m sorry Jack.” The reality of his job and your current problem was sobering. He’d been up all night attending to people in need and you’re pissed about flip flopping in bed. “Are you okay?”

“I’m better now. The walk is quiet. And I have a strange girl laughing in my ear. It’s a good way to end the day. Or I guess start it.” Jack’s voice drifted through the line, you could hear his boots crunching on the pavement. “To what do I owe the pleasure of speaking to you this early? Has Luna been meowing for treats all night or are you just missing me?” You could see his smirk so clearly in your head now. And it sent flutters through your belly without warning.

“I wish it was the cat,” you sighed, shifting on your bed and trying to find a spot on your sheets that wasn't uncomfortably warm. “I just can’t sleep. I’ve tried everything. Counting sheep, white noise, flipping the pillow for the fiftieth time. I think it’s because I spent all day yesterday researching new books to stock the shelves with. Now, every time I close my eyes, all I see are SKUs, publisher prices, and ISBN barcodes dancing behind my eyelids.”

Jack hummed. “The hazards of the trade. Speaking of can you set aside the new V.E. Schwab book for me? I’ll come get it Saturday. I’m off. You working then?”

A small smile tugged at your lips. “You already know I’ve set it aside for you. It’s been sitting behind the counter with your name on it for three days. And just so you know, when you finish it, I’ll be expecting a full thesis from you because I finished it and I've had to keep my big mouth shut to avoid spoiling it for you.”

Jack laughed. “A thesis? I can do it.”

“You better,” you teased. “And yes, I’m working Saturday. Bright and early. Can you come on my lunch break? I want to actually be able to sit and talk with you. I miss you.”

There was a brief pause on the other end, followed by a sigh. “I know. I’m sorry about that. Things got hectic at work. We’ve got a crop of new residents on the night shift that need a lot of hand holding. And,” he hesitated for a fraction of a second, “I’ve taken up some SWAT shifts as well.”

The teasing mood evaporated instantly. Your brow furrowed, a knot of cold anxiety tightening in your chest. “I don’t like that one bit.”

“Yeah,” Jack said softly, his voice tinged with a guilty sort of honesty. “That’s why I didn’t tell you.”

“So now I’m awake because I’m mad at you.” you said, though the edge it it had softened.

“Don’t do me like that,” Jack countered. “You know I’m fucked up and don’t know how to quit.”

That had you going quiet for a bit. You stared up at the dark ceiling.

Jack was a sensitive soul who had spent a lifetime building a fortress around his heart. He stayed sane by thrusting himself into situations that forced him to remain focused on objectives because if he focused on that, he didn't have to focus on the person. 

He could minimize feeling by being useful.

It was his greatest strength and his most exhausting flaw. Case in point: being an ER doctor meant seeing some of the gnarliest shit imaginable. To save a life, he had to remove his own human emotions in the moment. But the problem with it was that habit of detachment had leaked into his everyday life, a slow acting poison.

He was working hard to unlearn that. He was trying to let himself feel the messy, inconvenient parts of life again. And most of all, the parts that included you. But then he’d go and sign up for SWAT shifts, retreating back into the safety of high stakes but emotionally simple.

“I know it’s a cliche and you hate to hear it and obviously I’ve told you this many times, but you’re not alone” you reminded him, clutching the phone a little tighter. “You’re talking to someone who cares for you always. Even if it is little old me. That counts for something.”

“It counts for everything.” he said softly.

Jack cleared his throat, the sound slightly muffled as he shifted the phone. “I’m about five minutes from my house. I’m going to tell you about everything I’m seeing and hearing. What I want you to do is set your phone on the nightstand and close your eyes. Just focus on my words. Nothing else.”

You let out a sleepy, skeptical huff, your head sinking deeper into the flat pillow. “Not going to work, Jack. But okay.”

“Oh, ye of little faith.” he murmured, and you could hear the smirk in his voice.

You did as you were told, fumbling to set the phone down and rolling onto your side. You squeezed your eyes shut.

“The sun is just starting to bleed through the clouds,” Jack began. “It’s that pale blue color of early morning. There’s a breeze hitting the oaks on 4th Street. You can hear the leaves rubbing together. There’s a guy three houses down, he’s already out in his driveway. He’s wearing an old cardigan and fumbling with his keys, getting into a beat up blue sedan..”

As he spoke, the world began to dissolve. You weren't in your sweltering room anymore. You were walking beside him in the crisp morning air. You listened to the description of a bird landing on a fence post, the smell of someone doing early morning laundry, and the thump of his boots on the sidewalk.

Suddenly, it worked. Your mind stopped racing to keep up with the world and started to drift. Your eyelids felt heavy.

The last thing you felt was the sheets and the fading sound of his voice. Just as the darkness claimed you, you swore you heard a whisper.

“Sweet dreams, sweetheart.”

The line went silent, but the warmth of the words stayed, tucked under your heart as you finally drifted off into a dreamless, peaceful sleep.

…

Saturday morning at the bookstore was busy enough. Your feet were already starting to ache and you had seven hours left in the shift. You were restocking a display of new releases, but your eyes kept drifting to the large front window.

Then you saw him. Jack was walking up the sidewalk. "Here comes your boyfriend," your coworker muttered from behind the register, her voice dripping with amusement.

You didn't even turn around, though you felt your cheeks heating. "Not my boyfriend," you snapped, attempting to look busy with a stack of paperbacks.

"Yeah, okay. Whatever you say."

The bell above the door gave a chime as Jack stepped inside. Even with the shop crawling with customers, the air seemed to shift the moment he arrived. You didn't stay behind the display. You abandoned the books and walked around the counter, meeting him halfway near the back of the fiction section.

Without thinking, you wrapped your arms around his waist in a huge hug. Jack froze for a heartbeat before he finally let out a long breath and wrapped his arms around you. When he squeezed back, it was the best feeling in the world. You leaned your head against his chest, closing your eyes and breathing him in. He smelled like clean laundry and the faint, lingering scent of the outdoors.

You were one step away from your fingers twisting into the hair at the base of his neck, but then you caught sight of your coworker over his shoulder. She was staring at you, shamelessly making a lewd hand gesture with a shit eating grin.

Your face went hot. You reached out a hand and flicked her off, then quickly disentangled yourself from Jack, steering him toward the counter. You reached under the register and pulled out the book he had requested.

"I hope you have no plans tonight," you told him, sliding the book across the wood, "because you won't be putting this down."

Jack reached for his wallet and laughed. "None at all. Reading this and rotting on the couch all day."

"My dream date. And you know that." you jested, leaning your elbows on the counter.

Jack’s eyes sparkled at that. He knew exactly what you were doing because you’d been flirting with him since the day you met. He’d flirted back from time to time, brief flashes of heat in his gaze or a hand lingering on your shoulder, but he’d never fully allowed himself to sink into it.

As he watched you ring him up, a thousand factors blew through his mind. The biggest one was the twenty year age gap. It still shocked him sometimes. You’d joked once about bridging the gap between generations, and while he’d laughed, it slightly hit a nerve. He was older, more cynical, more broken by the things he’d seen.

But then he looked at you.

You were beautiful. Gorgeous, really. His mind flashed back to that concert you’d begged him to go to. He remembered the way his jaw had nearly hit the floor when you showed up at his house in that outfit. He might be getting older, but he was still a man, and he’d spent the entire night looking everywhere but at your legs just to keep from pitching a tent in his pants.

He valued your friendship more than almost anything. But hearing you say you cared for him the other night.. Would it be so bad to let himself fall? he wondered. Would it really be the worst thing in the world to just be happy?

"Come on," you said, breaking his train of thought as you handed him his bag. "Let's go outside and sit on the patio. It feels nice."

You grabbed your sweater and started pulling him towards the side doors. Before you stepped out, you looked over your shoulder at your coworker. "I'm taking my break," you called out firmly. "Don't bother us!"

You could hear Jack laughing as he followed you out the door. 

taglist: @comicsandfanfics @inkstainedpagesoftheslytherins

[apfelkernchen]

Samira, girl, I get it. I’d have a panic attack too if I found out Abbot’s not in the ED anymore.

[da-pitt]

[nexxen24]

Give You the Sky -- Dr. Jack Abbot x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Dr. Jack Abbot X Female Nurse Reader

Words: 12,656

Summary: Six months ago you moved to Pittsburgh for a fresh start, one that looked like an escape from a marriage that ended years ago and a chance for you and your daughter to be safe. When you start a new job as a night shift nurse for PTMC you meet the attending Jack Abbot, a man with a heart of gold who doesn’t like to show it and for some reason calls anyone he likes sweetheart, you especially, even though you assume he'll just walk away like everyone else. But Jack doesn’t walk, he plants his feet in fertile soil and always intends to see it through for your problems are his and all he wants is for you to be happy. You, the very person who believes she doesn’t deserve it and the man who would do it all over again as long as he could possibly give you all the stars in the sky far above the dark and lonely hours of your shared night shift.

Warnings: Lots of mentions of abuse, you as the reader have an abusive ex who does appear and does retaliate twice both verbally and physically, mentions of guns, with one shown. Aggressive and abusive patient, towards you. Medical trauma, procedures, surgery and injuries because of abuse, allusions to suicidal thoughts. If Domestic Violence is triggering, please avoid.

Tags: The Pitt, slight spoilers for season 1 none for 2, Jack Abbot, Robby appears, Shen, Ellis and McKay appear, angst, majorly angsty, fluff, hurt/comfort, you are a nurse, 10 year age gap(Jack is 48, you 38), reader has hair long enough for a bun, no use of Y/N.

AN: Jack Abbot time baby. This may be my best work...Especially the last few thousand words of it. Also please heed those warnings, this one is a doozy. Dividers by @wispyxfae

Give You the Sky

“If I could grow wings, I would do anything. Just to keep you with me. Can't you see. If I could fly high, I would give you the sky.” 

PTMC 

Night Shift --- 3:30am

Six months ago you had no idea what your life was going to be. You were stuck in a two bedroom house on a quiet country road with a husband who claimed that women didn’t need to work. Your job was to grab him beer, cook roasts every sunday and make him the happiest man in the world despite a nursing degree under your belt. But then you had enough, you grabbed all your stuff, picked up your daughter from a sleepover and ran, consoling her on the way that she would have to make new friends come September. She was upset and you felt bad but Pittsburgh was a fresh start and PTMC was a new space to grow and get better and so far it had been pretty damn good. You trusted Amelia to stay home even at only 13 so you worked night shifts, running around an ED and making a real difference for the first time since you graduated with the degree. It felt correct, like you were exactly where you belonged and the staff at PTMC had only made it better. 

But a lot of them had no idea you were a single mom on the run, avoiding calls from strange numbers and always looking over your shoulder. At work you felt safe, protected and within a space where a huge part of the goal was keeping nurses like you safe and protected. Outside PTMC was where it got scary and you spent a lot of time at home, hiding in the dark and waiting for him to find you, to go looking for the woman who arguably stole his daughter right out from under him. But he was never really a father, just posing as one and letting you do all the work, all the house cleaning, all the parenting while he sat around and complained that his construction work didn’t make him enough money. You would’ve helped if he let you, would’ve put your skills to good use but he was always the controlling type and at least you got that freedom now, in the bowels of the ED. 

“Well…I think that should be it,” you muttered and administered some extra pain medication to a woman with a broken wrist. 

“It feels better.” 

“It’s what morphine is good for,” you said and she smiled, attempting a thumbs up but wincing. “I get the gesture.” 

“Thank you.” 

“Ask for a Dr. Ellis if you need anything more,” you said and she nodded, giving you a smile as you walked out of the room and sighed, stretching a bit since there were still four hours left and a mountain of work. 

“How’s 3?” 

“She’s good,” you said and added some more to a chart as Dr. Shen hovered above you, iced coffee in hand like it was glued to him. 

“Abbot has been looking for you.” 

“Why?” 

“He has this mother in four with a kid and I think he needs you to be there to placate the little bugger.” 

“He can’t?” you asked and already knew the answer as Shen laughed, loud and overly obnoxious. “I’ll find him.” 

“He’d been asking for a sweetheart,” he said and you rolled your eyes at Abbot’s nickname for apparently every nurse he deemed his favourite and yet he only used it on you. 

Dr. Jack Abbot, night shift attending, and the first to welcome you to the pit when you arrived, hell bent on making the place the best workplace it could be. He was always there to lend a hand on a difficult case, offer up advice for the weirder patients that came in and even place a hand on a shaky shoulder, a bright smile on his face. For someone who had been surrounded by bad men her entire adult life, he was a good one and you had been towing the line between friendship and something more for a few weeks. You felt like it was too soon, too much had happened but all Abbot saw was a woman who was as brilliant as she was beautiful and his…

“Sweetheart!” Abbot said with a grin as you caught him outside the room, a smile on his face despite the time of night. 

“Dr. Abbot,” you greeted and cocked a brow when he shook his head. 

“Call me Jack.” 

“We’re at work,” you pointed out and looked around the ED as he shrugged. 

“I don’t mind.” 

“Dr. Abbot,” you repeated and he sighed. “What do you need?” 

“I have a woman who came in complaining of chest pain and we need a CT and some other scans and her son won’t let us. He’s attached to her and I assumed you could calm him down enough to spend some time away from mom.” 

“Why me?” you asked since only Ellis knew about your daughter. 

“I don’t know,” he admitted and crossed his arms. “You just give off the correct energy.” 

“Wow…” 

“Did you drive here?” 

“My car is in the shop so I took the bus,” you admitted and cringed at the thought of that public bus that smelt like a mix of BO and old cheese. 

“I’ll drive you home and grab you a coffee.” 

“All for doing my job?” 

“And for saving my ass,” he added and you rolled your eyes but sighed and followed him into the room where a kid not older than six was snuggled against his mother who was asleep. “Ethan, I have someone for you to meet.” 

“No…” 

“I promise I’m nice,” you said and the kid looked back, eyes full of tears. “Ethan right?” 

“Yes.” 

“My good friend Jack here needs to do some scans on your mom to make sure she’s okay and we can’t have you there,” you said, voice kind and overly compassionate as the kid began to soften. “I know you’re scared but your mom is in the best hands and I trust Jack with my life.” 

“Really?” 

“Always,” you agreed and felt his hand on your shoulder as you got in close to Ethan, smiling to yourself and lowering your voice to a whisper. “Between you and me…He is the best doctor in the building.” 

“He is?” the kid asked as you glanced back at Jack who was smiling. 

“He is,” you agreed and the kid sighed, sitting up and you helped him off the bed as he held your hand tight and watched as a fellow nurse helped to move his mom out of the room. 

You and Ethan watched her go and he moved to a small chair to sit and wait as you sighed and turned to Jack, the same smile still plastered across his face. You told yourself he was simply pleased that you could get the kid off the bed, that you could make it so he could treat his mom but you saw below that smile, knew it meant a whole lot more. 

“Your patient,” you said and he nodded, giving your shoulder one last pat before following the kids mom out of the room as you sighed and sat next to him. “Do you like Bluey?”

“Of course.” 

“Good, me too,” you said and got an episode ready, handing the phone over to Ethan. 

“Was he your husband?” Ethan asked and laughed at a joke from the show as your cheeks reddened. 

“Uh…nope…” 

“He acts like my dad.” 

“Huh…he’s just nice.” 

“Yeah…my dad is nice to my mom,” he agreed and went back to the show as you cursed him and his lack of filter for putting too many ideas inside your head all at once. 

Jack Abbot was just a friend, an excellent doctor and a pretty good coworker and nothing more, with no extra thoughts lingering below the surface like a five yr old with no clue about love was suggesting. Adults could be nice to each other and still just be friends, they could smile wide and pat their shoulders and blush all the time and nothing could be going on below the surface. But your mind and stomach whirled at the thought of him, so much that you were starting to take Ethan’s words to heart.

A few hours later, you were walking towards Abbot’s car with a smile on his face as he mentioned a patient he helped right before he clocked out, a kid with a big smile on his face who desperately wanted to get rid of his loose tooth. He managed it…he got rid of the loose and the perfectly healthy one right next door because instead of tying it to a string he slammed the entire front part of his face on his bedframe. After some major pain meds for the broken nose and a dentist recommendation the kid was all smiles and assumed he was getting two dollars and not one after his genius. You and Jack both found it hilarious much to the annoyance of his parents and the very much not free US healthcare system but at least the kid was okay and the shift overall wasn’t half bad. 

“I thought you always go to the roof?” you asked since he didn’t that day, he just walked right out with you. 

“Only sometimes. Normally when the days get real hard.”

“Today wasn’t that?” 

“No it was not,” he said and unlocked his car, a 97 Ford Ranger XLT as you jumped in the passenger seat and hated to admit it was the most Abbot car, Abbot could buy. 

“It was a good shift. I had fun,” you admitted and he smiled. 

“I’m glad,” he said and grabbed a pair of sunglasses off the dash since it was just starting to rise as he breathed in deep, taking a moment before starting the truck. “So…what’s your go to for coffee?” 

“You are going to hate me.” 

“Never.” 

“Just wait,” you said and he raised a brow. “I always go to Starbucks.” 

“Oof…that has to change. Do you have time?” 

“Why?” 

“Because my favourite place is only good if breakfast is involved,” he said and you nodded with a smile as Jack grinned, shoved the truck in drive and headed off as your heart fluttered in a way that you assumed Ethan would approve of. 

Abbot’s perfect coffee shop was a small one covered in plants called Maritime Cafe that overlooked one of the three rivers that crossed through Pittsburgh and you allowed him to order what he thought was good before following the man over to a small park. The morning was already perfect, cold but nice out and very few people were wandering around a park at 8am which you were grateful for as you texted Amelia to grab some waffles and head off to school on your own. You didn’t tell her why you’d be late, just that work was busy and it seemed to placate her as you took a sip of your iced latte, Jack eagerly awaiting the review.

“Oh wow…what is that?” 

“Iced oat and honey latte.” 

“Wow…” 

“Better than Starbucks?” 

“A million times better,” you said and he smiled, taking a sip of his own, the same but with a bit less creamer. “How’d you find the place?” 

“A guy at my support group loves it.” 

“Support group?” 

“For vets,” he said and you nodded, slowly, not hearing about that aspect of his life. “You didn’t know?” 

“It’s only been six months.” 

“I guess,” he muttered and smiled. 

“What?” 

“It proves this isn’t just pity talking,” he said and you raised a brow. “I’ve had coworkers who only agree to morning coffee because they pity the traumatized attending who goes to support groups and can’t sleep in a bed most nights. You didn’t know, you’re here because of me.” 

“How long did you serve?” 

“Only about 5 years. I went to pay for medical school and got training there and became a field medic. It was a lot of fun when you weren’t getting shot at, those guys can sure joke.” 

“I assume it lingers.” 

“Yeah…laughs mainly…” he muttered and swirled the iced latte in his hand as you bit the croissant sandwich in thought. “I don’t remember the screaming, or crying or blood…but you never forget a laugh.” 

“Means they were happy,” you said and he nodded. “At least for a moment.” 

“Enough depression,” he said and chuckled. “Why did you move to the city?” 

“Uh…” you began and tried to think of an excuse that could cover a reason as big as an abusive ex husband. “I got divorced and needed to live somewhere that wasn’t a small town.” 

“Valid,” he said and held out the cup and you gave him a cheers. “To finding peace in Pittsburgh.” 

“Peace,” you agreed and the morning changed into a quiet one as you enjoyed the sun rising above the river and sipped on your coffee so long it got watery by the time it was done, but neither of you cared.

PTMC 

Night Shift --- 1:45am

Two months later and you were enjoying a pretty run of the mill shift, joking with Jack whenever you saw him and enjoying Shen and his iced coffees since you were also hooked. Sure it was the iced honey latte like Jack suggested all those weeks back but you loved them and always had a cup nearby, refilling whenever you found the time. The patients had been pretty standard for an early Tuesday morning and nothing had stood out and you hoped it would stay that way when Ellis bumped your shoulder. You glanced up and frowned when you realised she wasn’t smiling, she even looked a bit annoyed and you stood, worried something had happened to her. 

“Anything the matter?” 

“I have a patient and I need you.” 

“Isn’t Ally your nurse?” 

“She is but this one needs you.” 

“Okay,” you said and followed her to North 3 as she dismissed Ally and directed her to the kid with the coughing fit you were working on before. “Why me?” 

“My patient…she…she recently left.” 

“Oh,” you said and glanced at the woman inside the room who was nursing what looked like a broken wrist. “First time?” 

“Yep.” 

“Husband?” 

“Boyfriend.” 

“God,” you muttered and Ellis nodded in agreement as your hands began to shake. 

“I’m sorry…” 

“No…I am perfect for this,” you admitted and sighed before giving Ellis a nod and pulling open the door, introducing yourself as the new nurse in charge of her care. 

“Why the switch?” she asked and you sighed, taking a seat. 

“I left eight months ago,” you admitted and her eyes widened. “My colleague, Dr. Ellis assumed that I’d be a good fit.” 

“You did?” 

“I did. I left and never went back.” 

“How many tries did it take?” 

“That was my eighth across twelve years of marriage and two years of dating.” 

“He did all of that after so long?” she asked and you nodded. “I was only with Marco for a year but he just got so angry and it all came to a head after he used my twin to get me this appointment for a breast augmentation, she pretended to be me and signed the forms.” 

“Your sister?” 

“Yeah…Lilly and Holly, always the same, not when Holly got pregnant and they grew and I didn’t want kids so he chose the next best thing. When I came home still a B cup he threw me down the stairs and I ran, ended up here, with you.” 

“I am very grateful you chose to run after that.” 

“Me too,” Lilly agreed and smiled. “What was the trigger for you?” 

“We have a daughter,” you admitted and sighed, hands shaking so you squished them between your thighs to make it stop. “Eight months ago I came home and found her crying which was odd because she’s not a crier, never has been, even as a toddler and she was sobbing. This is a girl who broke her ankle playing soccer and tried to keep playing, she doesn’t get upset and yet she was and I was terrified.” Your mind flashed to that day, seeing her curled in a ball against a wall, hands over her head and sobbing. “I confronted Chris, my now ex partner and he claimed she was a brat and needed to be told what to do more often. He wouldn’t elaborate, was too drunk to even see so I got Amelia alone and asked and she said she left a cup on the sink and he freaked out and threw the cup at her. It missed or else he would not be alive but she was scared, she didn’t think her own dad could be that mean, I always kept it away from her, added my own bandages and closed the bathroom door when it got bad. That was my last straw…I packed up our stuff and ran three days later when he went on a business trip.” 

“How has it been, being away?” 

“An adjustment…but it’s the best thing I could have done for myself and for her and sure she might’ve been a bit annoyed but she loves it here and I have hope that we’ll be safe for a very long time.” 

“I hope so…” Lilly sighed and glanced at her wrist that was purple and swollen as you moved closed and placed a hand on it, applying a bit of light pressure to ground her and she looked like she appreciated it. 

“No matter what anyone says you did the right thing for you and a man like that doesn’t deserve you, he doesn’t deserve anyone. You’re not weak for running, Lilly,” you began and she looked up, eyes filled with tears. “You are in fact the strongest person in this entire ED.” 

“Thank you,” she said and you smiled. 

“Ellis will likely order an x-ray for that wrist and a head CT but you should be okay and we have an excellent social worker here named Kiara and a couple therapists if you need some help.” 

“I would like that.” 

“I can also call an organization here in Pittsburgh that specialises in these cases, if you’d like.” 

“I would,” she agreed and you nodded, standing and giving her hand one last gentle squeeze before heading outside to where Ellis was waiting. 

“How was it?” 

“A lot,” you said and she nodded, wrapping you in a hug. “I need some time.” 

“Of course, I can take care of the rest.” 

“Get in touch with the therapist on call or a referral for the morning. I’m going to get some air or something…” 

“Hey,” Ellis began and you turned. “I heard what happened…what he did…” 

“Yeah it was a lot.” 

“I’m damn glad I like women, you should try it some time.”

“I once thought about it…but that’s not me.” 

“No…you like bright eyed older attendings,” she shot back and you frowned, walking off without another word and hearing her laugh all the way across the ED. 

You wondered where Abbot was and stumbled across a trauma room to the south to spot your fellow nurse, a kind older gentleman named Harry fixing the sheet on what looked like a very bloody body as your eyes widened. You stepped inside and tried to avoid the puddles on the ground as Harry sniffled and gathered up some equipment that needed cleaning, likely getting ready to make the body presentable for the family.

“Harry?” 

“Oh…sorry…” 

“No, it’s okay…what happened?” 

“Oh uh…Air force vet…shot himself in the chest, we couldn’t save him. Dr. Abbot tried for the last three hours but it wasn’t enough…he bled out before we could get control of it.” 

“Where is Abbot?” 

“He said he needed air,” Harry said and you nodded, knowing exactly what that meant when it came to Abbot. 

For the last couple of months Abbot had ended up on the roof of PTMC at least once a night, normally closer to the end of the shift, waiting for his longtime friend and day shift attending Dr. Robby but sometimes you found him. There was a spot by the edge that had no railing and one wrong step led to a straight drop down onto the roof of another building and he liked to stand there, staring at it and contemplating life and patients. You caught him in almost a trance a month back after a kid died in a car accident and he had to be the one to tell his older brother that his one bad mistake changed his life forever. It was a bad night and you weren’t surprised to catch him there again, hunched over and staring at the roof like it was built specifically to haunt him. You wandered over and slipped under the railing, standing next to him and leaning on it as he sighed and moved a bit closer, leaning his shoulder on yours and letting out a sigh. 

“Hi.” 

“How’d you know I’d be up here…” 

“Harry,” you said and he nodded with a sniffle. “I’m sorry. I know that must’ve hurt, seeing him like that.” 

“I knew him…” 

“You did?” 

“Mark Connors, he served for six years in the Air Force. Came back with a busted up back and a heck ton of PTSD. He was lost, truly and utterly lost and I had been trying for a month to get him to talk to someone, even me but he refused, claimed he was fine and he showed up here…didn’t even know he owned a gun.” 

“You feel like you failed him,” you said and were mildly surprised when he nodded in agreement. 

“I feel like I need to look out for people like him, I made it through all that shit and it happened twenty-five years ago.” 

“You never felt like Mark?” you asked and half regretted it, assuming it was too deep of a conversation to have with a man who was technically a boss. 

“Everyday twenty-five years ago. I never tell someone this without proper context but there was a reason I only spent 5 years in the army,” he informed and stepped a bit away, pulling up his left pant leg. 

“Oh my god,” you said and he chuckled. “Sorry.” 

“No it’s okay. It’s a lot,” he agreed and smiled. “Mark being here on the twenty-fifth anniversary of this added piece of machinery is pretty funny in a morbid sort of way. I thought I had lost everything when I woke up without this damn leg but maybe I didn't. Maybe I could've lost a lot more.”

“I'm surprised you didn't go into therapy or a veterans hospital.”

“Those guys don't seek out those places,” he admitted and you frowned. “They're like Mark, they appear in an ED with a lot on their mind and sometimes not in the best state. I've seen shootings, stabbings, one guy lost both his legs overseas and got hit by a car two weeks after he got home. The war doesn't stop, it follows you, you learn to always run from something. If we stop we start to lose ourselves.”

It was at that moment that you realized you and Jack were quite similar. Both of you were runners, desperately trying to escape something and both those things felt like a war. In Jack's case it actually was a war, a bad one that took his left leg and changed his life and yours was simply a very angry man, which ironically tended to be the catalyst for a lot of wars. Chris wasn't full of PTSD, he was a normal guy who assumed men deserved the world because his dad taught him they did. You'd met his father once and he had some choice words about women as you and Chris sat outside on the porch and his mom served drinks, dolled up in a polka dot dress and an apron. Frankly that should've been the first red flag but you ignored it because you were young and he was pretty and life seemed so simple. It became complicated when Amelia came around, four months before you were married and you felt obligated to stay because that was what people in rural Oklahoma did, they stayed.

They got pregnant by accident and married the father because they didn't want to be the mom who gets gossiped about by even more moms wearing their polka dot dresses to church on Sunday. When you left, you left to find more and maybe Jack was that more. More life and more assurance that not every man in the world was the same. He showed real emotion towards Mark dying, his cheeks were still wet and you noticed his hands still shook when they weren't tight around his biceps. You moved closer, two soldiers fighting two very different wars but at the moment you were the same and sure he didn't know about Chris but he was helping just by being there. You told Lilly she was the strongest person in that ED without even realizing you also needed to tell it to yourself, you left him, you were in Pittsburgh and not Tulsa and even on a roof, standing in a spot without a railing, you were safe. 

And yes it was because of Jack Abbot, it was always because of him. 

“Thank you.”

“For what?” you asked and turned, eyes widening when you realised how close you had gotten. 

“Looking for me.”

“I needed space.”

“There's a lot of space other than the roof.”

“Maybe I needed the space you had,” you admitted and he grinned. 

“Watch it…this could be considered flirting.”

“I'm not in the market for a problematic age gap relationship.”

“I don't think we're that far apart…how old are you?”

“You're not supposed to ask that,” you shot back and he chuckled. 

“Okay…how old were you when 9/11 happened. It's the nicer way.”

“Thirteen,” you admitted and noticed that he stepped back a bit. “Too young?”

“I was 23.”

“Only ten years, could be worse.”

“Could be,” he agreed and reached out, hand landing on your waist as you realized he was trying to pull you against him in a way that was subtle. “Sorry…”

“Go ahead,” you said and he nodded, pulling you tight against him as you wrapped your arms around his middle and he let out a sigh. “How long are you going to stay out here?”

“Till it hurts less.”

“I like that idea,” you muttered and sighed as well, closing your eyes and drinking in his scent. 

A mix of black coffee, leather and the worry that this was a very, very bad idea. 

PTMC 

Night Shift --- 12:45am

The one thing that had forever sucked about working the night shift at an ED was the sheer amount of drunk people that tended to stumble through the doors every night. You always saw at least three per night and that night was no different as you administered an IV to one who reeked of tequila and kept eyeing you. You had been told you were the prettiest nurse in the ER and not just from Abbot but a few doctors and had noticed that patients, especially men, tended to perk up a little bit when you walked into the room. You could tell that this guy wanted to say something, he kept glancing up and down your navy blue scrubs, eyes lingering on curves you wanted him to ignore. He was drunk and thought the world of himself and it was making you annoyed. 

“God…how do you do this every night?” 

“I like helping people,” you deadpanned and he chuckled. 

“Is that the only reason?” 

“Well I’m not in it for the hours or the pay,” you shot back and he laughed, a loud and boisterous one that grated on your eardrums and made you cringe. 

“Also aren’t you a nurse?” 

“I am but we need more people to help since we’re short staffed so you’re stuck with me.” 

“Lucky me,” he said and smiled as you rolled your eyes. 

“Just be happy you only fell and didn’t do something worse,” you shot back and he glanced at the cuts on his legs and felt a welt on his forehead. 

“Would’ve been nice to have you require me to get a bit more undressed, check over all my injuries.” 

“I would rather poke myself with your IV,” you shot back and he didn’t laugh, he just stared and narrowed his eyes as you went quiet, not wanting to add anymore to his already annoying affection. “Alright…I’ll grab a doctor and you should be okay.” 

“I don’t feel okay.” 

“Has anything changed?” 

“No, but I feel some pain right here,” he muttered and pointed to a spot near his heart as you sighed and got a bit closer. 

The guy moved his button up Hawaiian shirt out of the way as you leaned in a bit, hoping he didn’t get hit or something and was bleeding internally which would make your night a lot more complicated. But everything looked fine and you were about to move back, step away and tell the guy to shut up and wait for a doctor when he reacted, grabbing the back of your neck and pulling you against his chest. You went rigid, eyes wide as he held the back of your neck in a vice grip and forced you to adjust so you could keep standing, legs shaking regardless since the moment was a direct reminder of what happened with Chris, not the last time, but so many before from the grip to the smell of alcohol on his breath. 

“Submissive, I like it,” he whispered and you felt tears in your eyes. “People say that nurses are sweethearts but you…you broke that rule. I don’t like it so you’re going to fix that attitude…” 

“Or what?” 

You froze, hearing Abbot’s voice from behind you and letting out a short sob that he caught wind of what was happening, that he was there to get you out of this mess and make everything better like he was good at. 

“Who’s this?” 

“A very angry ER doctor.” 

“Really?” 

“Your judgement is skewed but you must realise this violates a lot of rules.” 

“It might but she was mean to me.” 

“I’m sure my nurse is overworked and underpaid and doesn’t like being shit on by assholes who run their mouths after falling off a step because they had too much cheap tequila. You can excuse her indifference.”

“And if I don’t?” 

Abbot walked further into the room, stepping right next to the guy in the bed and placing a hand on his shoulder as he eyed him, going to move but he punched him in the face before he could. He jumped, howling in pain and letting go of you as Abbot stepped back, rubbing his knuckles that had a bit of blood on them since it looked as though he also broke the guy's nose and was pretty damn proud of himself for it. You stood, moving to the other side of the room as he nodded to security and they walked in, cuffing him to the bed as he placed a hand on your shoulder and guided you out of the trauma room and over to the breakroom. 

“Are you okay?”

“I’ll be fine,” you assured as he grabbed the side of your face and made you look at him, hazel eyes narrowing in thought as he rubbed a thumb along your cheek. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“That guy was a jackass and drunk, it’s never a good combo.” 

“God people are fucked up, nurses work their asses off and this is the thanks they get?” 

“I’m fine, Jack,” you said and he nodded, looking away and clenching his hands into a tight fist before he was quick to turn back and pull you into a tight hug, pressing his face to the top of your head as you relaxed in his grip. “I’m okay. Thank you for stepping in.” 

“I should’ve punched him harder.” 

“I think you broke his nose.” 

“Here’s hoping it grows back crooked.” 

“It would match his heart,” you said and he chuckled, kissing the top of your head as you froze, eyes wide and he did the same, pulling back so fast it was like he got shocked. 

“Uh…I’m so sorry.” 

“No…it’s fine.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“I’m okay. I do the same to my daughter after she gets her heart broken, I get it.” 

“Daughter?” he asked and your eyes widened since you had yet to mention Amelia to anyone besides Ellis. 

“Yeah, I have one of those, she’s 13 and thinks she knows everything.” 

“They always do at that age.” 

“Amelia is her name and she’s a menace.” 

“Is it just you and her?” he asked and your heart dropped, mind racing and you hoped he didn’t notice as you wandered over to the fridge for one of the La Croix the day shift nurse Dana left in it. 

“Yeah, we moved here together.” 

“Does she ever see the ex?” 

“No…he was never around,” you said and took a long sip, nose wrinkling at the bubbles as Jack narrowed his eyes. 

“Well that man is an asshole.” 

“I can’t help but agree,” you said and he chuckled, joining you at the table.

“So…uh…I have something that I’ve been meaning to ask, been a long time coming and I’ve debated on asking before or never…but now I want to bite the bullet and ask, see what you say.” 

“What?” You asked, heart pounding as he breathed deep.

“Would you like to get dinner sometime? I know a place that does Italian really well, it's never all that busy…”

“Uh…” 

“I swear no one from the ED would spot us.”

“No,” you said and his eyes widened. “Thank you for the offer but I'll have to say no. Maybe another time.”

“Of course, I'll keep the option open,” he assured and patted you awkwardly on the shoulder before clearing his throat and leaving the break room. 

You stared into your La Croix and sighed, loud, regretting it almost as much as the feelings themselves but it was too early…he was asking for too much too soon and you weren't ready. Maybe one day, maybe one day soon even but not today…despite it all…not today.

Lana’s Bar 

7:30pm

You didn't expect one of the worst days of your life to also be Parker Ellis's birthday but fate has a funny way of fucking people over. Ellis managed to convince you to go to a bar to celebrate her birthday, one near the ED with good reviews and cheap alcohol and you were currently nursing a beer as she tried to convince Santos, a day shift doctor, that karaoke was a good idea. You were sitting next to your personal favourite of the day shift, a woman named Cassie McKay who was also a single mom with an asshole ex and simply trying to make ends meet. 

“How has the night shift been treating you?” 

“Better than expected, I’m here,” you said and glanced at Ellis who had managed to get Santos up on stage, a surgery resident from the day named Yolanda cheering them on from the sidelines. 

“I heard about you and Jack…” 

“From who?” you asked and McKay nodded to Ellis as you sighed. “Is it wrong to kill her on her birthday?” 

“She’s a blabbermouth, it’s your fault for telling her.” 

“I was venting,” you shot back and she rolled her eyes. “Also I said no because it’s wrong to date someone who is basically my boss. I know I’m not a doctor but there’s that power dynamic…that difference in authority kind of a thing…I don’t like it.”

“Bullshit,” McKay muttered and sipped her IPA as you glared. “I think you’re scared.” 

“And if I am?” 

“Don’t be…he’s clearly crazy about you.” 

“You are the day shift, how would you know?” 

“A couple weeks back Abbot was still there, finishing up this guy who broke his ankle in an accident and he called me over to take over and mentioned how he was worried about you, you seemed distant and unlike the nurse he knows so well. I claimed it was probably just stress and he asked what he should do, if he could do anything to make you feel better and I jokingly said he should bake you something, you’ve always been a pastry fan.” 

“Bake me something?” you repeated and she nodded. “Oh my god.” 

“What?” 

“He brought in a container of brownies a few weeks back and made sure I got one…they were terrible but I didn’t care, he made them.” 

“See…” 

“Maybe I’ll tell him I changed my mind,” you said and McKay grinned as your phone started ringing and you excused yourself, expecting a call from a soccer camp Amelia had been bugging you about. 

Since the job was going well and the pay wasn’t horrible you could afford it and send her off to play soccer with some of her besties for the entire month of July. Her being accepted was going to be her birthday present since it was in May and you slipped out of the bar, walking to an alley a few feet away and answering the call. 

“Hello?” you said and smiled but there was no answer and when you pulled the phone back the contact claimed to be an unknown number. “Rude…” 

You rolled your eyes and pocketed the phone, pulling your cardigan closer since there was a chill for a slightly rainy night in March and you didn’t feel like catching a cold and missing work. You smiled at the thought of Abbot coming over to your small apartment, making some soup and his horrible brownies and helping you feel better…maybe even in more ways than one. You decided back in the bar to give him a shot but really wanted to at the moment and half debated calling him when you felt someone grab your shoulder. 

“Ellis? It’s not funny,” you said and chuckled, but the voice didn’t respond and you were about to look back and chide her when the figure slammed you against the wall of the alley so hard you dropped to the ground, winded and dizzy.

“Been a hot minute,” a voice said and you narrowed your eyes, one of them half shut cause blood was streaming from your forehead as a man you thought you’d never see again was standing above you. 

Standing there in dark jeans and a worn leather jacket was your ex-husband, or separated husband at least with a grin on his face as he knelt down, getting closer to your level. He stank of alcohol, the cheap stuff he loved and it was clinging to his breath like mold on bread as you tried not to barf. You assumed he was back in Tulsa, trying to figure out what he did wrong and failing at it but he was there, right in front of you and it felt like the entire world had just caved in on itself. 

“How’d you find me,” you said, voice shaky and mouth full of blood since the impact made you bite your tongue pretty hard. 

“You should really consider changing your name on Facebook,” he said and you cursed since that had been a very low priority when you moved. “Sure you blocked me but I’ve kept in contact with your best friend, we’re even together and she helped me discover where you ran off with our daughter. Fathers have rights, hun, you should know this by now and this one doesn’t like it when those rights get taken.” 

“Maybe if you didn’t threaten her she’d still be yours,” you shot back and he growled, reaching back with his foot and kicking you square in the ribs as you sucked in a deep breath, feeling something shift. 

“You have until the end of the month…three weeks…to bring Amelia to my hotel. You will not tell her why, just that her dad wants to see her and she’ll be spending some time in Tulsa so we can reconnect. I would recommend not going to the cops.” 

“Why?” 

“Because I move faster,” he said and showed off his phone as your breath caught. 

On the screen was a live video feed of what looked like your front door and even though it was nearing 9pm, Amelia was just coming home since she had a late practice and spent time with a friend and was waving to the mom in the car. You bit your lip to keep from crying and gave him as he reached back and grabbed your hair, right at the base of the ponytail and pulled your head up so you could look right at him. 

“Do we understand?” 

“Yes.” 

“I’ll leave the address on the ground. Tell her to pack, she’ll need a few months.” 

“When will you bring her back?” 

“Only time will tell,” he shot back and dropped your head, your forehead smacking on the ground as you cried out and he rolled his eyes. 

“I’ll see you in Apirl…sweetheart.” 

He walked off, leaving you sitting there and trying to catch your breath but every deep suck in was agonising and you knew that he had to have broken something with that kick. But you didn’t need anyone inside seeing you like that, or someone at the ED, you just needed a bed and a clear head and some way of getting out of the current situation. You had always been a determined person, set on getting out of tricky situations by yourself and this would be no different. You limped home, still unable to really suck in a deep breath and texted Ellis that you got sick from a bad beer and needed rest. She told you to get better soon and you laid on your bed and cried yourself to sleep with Amelia sleeping in the room next door, the one person you cared about protecting more than even yourself.

PTMC 

Night Shift -- 12:45am

You spent three days at home resting, hoping that the bruises on your face and stomach would disappear and maybe you could go back to work and actually feel normal and it worked for the most part. Ellis caught the shift, she spotted your slight limp and you made up an excuse about falling down your stairs and needing a couple days to recover which she bought with narrowed eyes but didn’t say much more. You hoped that no one would look too close, spot the bruises hidden behind makeup and you could survive the shift and continue resting at home. But your side was also killing you, deep purple from the bruises and you have debated asking someone to order an x-ray for a patient and show up instead. Chris had one hell of a foot on him, heavy enough to do some real damage and you stopped by the desk after dropping off a chart, eyes going crossed from the pain. 

“How are you doing, sweetheart?”

You jumped despite yourself, arm hair raising like a scared animal as Jack clasped a hand on your shoulder and grinned like always. It wasn't his fault that that nickname now scared you, it made you think of him…of his dirtier and the dark alley where no good thing could ever happen to you. He eyed you, looking concerned as you breathed in deep, closing your eyes and keeping the panic at bay since you weren't in the alley, you were with Jack and he was safe. He'd always be safe.

“Sorry. Didn't sleep much last time.”

“All good.”

“What are you up to?”

“Just got done with a patient, came in with road rash and a broken wrist because of a bike accident,” he said and showed off some photos of pretty nasty road rash. “I sent them off to Robby.”

“Still hate the bike?” You asked and he nodded.

“I keep telling that old man that he is an old man and he has to stop but he won't listen.”

“You should move to the day shift so you can berate him all the time.”

“I can't, I wouldn't see you enough,” he claimed and you blushed as Jack grinned. “Sorry.”

“You know I said no to you.”

“Still hurt,” he assured and sighed, wandering off to do something else as you rolled your eyes and felt a sharp stab in your left side. 

“Hey!” Ellis called and added your last name as you looked up. “Trauma incoming. Car accident.”

“Right behind you,” you said and sighed, grabbing one last sip of the La Croix on the desk before running after her. 

“What do we got?” Ellis asked and turned to the paramedic who was assisting in dragging the young man onto the table.

“Ben Simpson, 24, crashed into a tree going 150 miles, his friend in the passenger seat died on scene. We started to lose him on the drive over but he's stable.”

“Cheers, thank you,” Ellis said and they nodded, running off as you grabbed a pair of scissors, cutting away his pants and revealing a lot worse than road rash. 

“Ellis?”

“God that's broken,” she muttered and you nodded, suddenly feeling a bit faint which was odd for someone who didn't tend to feel woozy at the sight of blood. “Hey, you good?”

“Yeah,” you muttered and stepped back as Harry took over, wobbling a bit and grabbing the door jam, your back slamming into Abbot's.

“Hey, what's happening here?”

“24 yr old with a bad tibia fracture after crashing his car into a tree.”

“GCS?”

“Haven't done it yet.”

“Why?”

“Ask her.”

“Sweetheart,” Jack asked and grabbed your shoulder as you took one look at him and his pretty eyes before collapsing. “Shit.”

“Check this,” you croaked out and pulled up the hem of your scrub top as his eyes widened. 

“What?” Ellis asked and Jack swallowed hard.

“Massive internal bleeding.”

“What?”

“Call the OR!! Now!!” 

“But…”

“Shen!!” Jack cried and the man ran over, sliding to a stop in the doorway as his eyes widened. “Help Ellis.”

“On it,” he said and stepped over you and Jack as he cradled your head in his lap, Ellis making the call for an empty OR. 

“Stay with me,” he muttered and ran a hand through your hair as your eyes got droopy, heavy from pain and a regret for not acting sooner, for not choosing to trust him and that mistake might even cost you your life.

“Jack…”

“Stay with me…”

You woke up and immediately closed your eyes, practically bombarded with light and blinked a couple times to force your eyes to adjust, spotting a head of greying hair, resting on a pair of arms as Jack slept at the end of your bed. You shifted, feeling a jolt of pain and felt around your side to find a large bandage and assumed you were in some sort of recovery wing. The last few words you remembered were OR and his pleading voice for you to stay with him and were half tempted to reach out and touch him, run a hand through that hair you loved when someone tapped the edge of the room and you looked up to find Robby. You’d seen him around when he did the hand off from the day shift, tired eyes and often a bit hunched over since he had worked at PTMC for likely longer than you’d been alive…or at least you assumed it felt like that. 

“Hi.” 

“Hello,” Robby greeted and walked in, stepping with care to not wake Jack who let out a soft snore. “He’s been here for hours.” 

“He didn’t go home?” 

“Nope, we tried to convince him but he refused.” 

“I assume this is a recovery room?” 

“You’d be correct,” Robby said and you sighed. “You had a perforated bowel caused by a broken rib, it was causing some nasty leaking and a small bit of internal bleeding. You said that you fell?” 

“We have these annoying stairs outside our townhouse,” you said and Robby narrowed his eyes. “I slipped coming home late from Ellis’ party.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Are you saying I’m lying?” you asked and he shook his head, putting his hands up. 

“Never said that.” 

“Good…cause I fell,” you assured and Robby nodded, giving your shoulder a small pat before he moved back to the main door. 

“Wake him up so he can go and sleep at home,” he said and you nodded as Robby paused, hesitating in front of the door. “Tell Jack. He cares.” 

“I’ll tell him I fell,” you said and Robby nodded, sighing and smacking his hand on the door which caused Jack to bolt upright, eyes wide as you rolled your eyes. 

“Sorry.” 

“No, you’re fine.” 

“How are you?” 

“I’ve been better,” you said and he nodded, sitting up and stretching, eyes heavy with bags under them. “How long have you been here?” 

“A few hours. Your surgery didn’t take long and I fell asleep waiting for you to wake up. When you collapsed…” He went quiet and your heart ached, wanting so badly to tell him what really happened but Chris was already in a bad mood and you were worried he’d do something to Jack if he went after him. “I was scared…”

“I’m sorry.” 

“No…it’s not your fault. But did you fall? Ellis said you did.” 

“I did,” you assured and prayed he wouldn’t see through the lies as he eyed you, watched your face like he wanted to commit it to memory. “I’ll be fine. It was a simple routine surgery and I’ll sleep it off and head back into work like nothing happened.” 

“Why didn’t you come in?” 

“I didn’t feel it. I thought it was fine.” 

“Well…” 

“Don’t go all sarcastic on me,” you said and he chuckled, standing and stretching, the hem of his day old scrub top riding up but you weren’t looking. 

“Sorry. If you need anything while you’re recovering, call me.” 

“Like?”

“Dinner…Company.” 

“Oh yeah I’ll be sure to keep you in mind,” you said and he chuckled, giving your knee a pat and walking over to the door, stopping before he walked out. 

“I mean it…This isn’t me being sarcastic or trying to get you to say yes…I mean it.” 

“You want me to stay with you,” you said and were shocked to see a dusting of red take over his cheeks. 

“Yeah…It would be nice.” 

“I’ll do my very best, no sarcasm at all.” 

“Thank you,” he said and patted the door before he walked out as you leaned back a bit, your smile wide and cheeks warm with the best feeling in the world. 

Maybe it was love…maybe it was something more but it was making everything infinitely better.

Your Townhouse 

One Week Later

You were all set to head back to work in a couple days, stomach much better than it was when you woke up and your spirit was high despite a looming deadline always in the background of Chris and his plans in April. But you still had time to come up with a way to placate him and chose not to think about it, to focus on Amelia who had two weeks off for spring break and the dinner you made, elaborate and fancy since it had been a while. She was rambling about her excitement for the soccer camp in July since it was her birthday two days ago and you revealed the gift, the big and amazing one she called the best gift she’d ever gotten. You laughed at that comment since she also got a Nintendo Switch to play with her friends online but were grateful that a soccer camp for the summer was enough to please a newly fourteen yr old girl. 

“Sylvie told me two weeks back that she’s going and now I am, we’re gonna have so much fun,” Amelia assured as she washed the pan you used for dinner, practically bouncing and getting soap everywhere. “Also the sink of doing that thing again…where the water is really slow.” 

“Shoot…I’ll phone a plumber,” you said and reached for the device to do just that when the doorbell rang and your blood ran cold. “I’ll get it.” 

“Cool.” 

You walked over, half tempted to grab a small container of pepper spray you kept in your purse but chose to look through the peephole instead, see if it was someone worth defending yourself over and to your shock it wasn’t. You eyed the door before pulling it open and spotting Jack standing outside it, a plastic tray of plastic wrapped cookies in one hand and a smile on his face. 

“Hello.” 

“Hi, sorry to show up unannounced.” 

“No problem, we were just having dinner.” 

“I can come back?” he asked right as Amelia wandered over. 

“Who are you?” 

“This is Dr. Abbot from work.” 

“Have you ever fixed a sink?” she asked and your cheeks went red. 

“Uh…I have before. Why?” 

“Can you fix ours? We have tools.” 

“I can run home and grab more, I’m not far,” he offered and your cheeks flushed deeper as you cursed your daughter inside your head. 

“Perfect, we have more than enough dinner,” she singsonged and wandered back into the house as you turned to Jack. 

“You don’t have to fix our sink. She was joking.” 

“So it works?” 

“Well…” 

“I have no plans, I wouldn’t mind.” 

“Yeah but you’re…” 

“I’m what?” 

“We’re having fajitas, come hungry,” you said and grabbed his tray of odd looking cookies as Jack nodded and walked back over to his truck to go and grab the tools he claimed he had a lot of. “What the hell were you thinking?” 

“That you need to get out more,” she shot back and grinned. 

“Amelia…he’s a coworker…” 

“Derek Shepherd was a coworker…didn’t stop Meredith.” 

“This isn’t Greys.” 

“If only,” she said and sighed, almost wistfully as you dropped the tray on the counter and sucked in a deep breath. 

“I might kill you.” 

“Hey…he made you cookies…he obviously likes you.” 

“No he doesn’t,” you shot back and she grabbed one, biting into it with a smile. 

“Dark chocolate,” she muttered and your eyes widened. “I remember them being someone’s favourite.”

“Yeah…so what,” you said and grabbed one yourself since you had to wait for dinner, hating to admit they were both delicious and your favourite. 

Touche Jack Abbot…touche.

A little while after Jack returned with his case full of tools and enjoyed the dinner you prepared he was on his knees and looking over the sink which was causing you too many problems. He had also chosen to work without the lower half of his right leg and you eyed the prosthetic from afar, seeing how it connected to what was left, which was a good amount of calf just below the knee. He looked back and caught your stares as your cheeks flushed and you turned back to the bottle of beer you had grabbed from the fridge.

“Alright, I think I got it,” he said and stood, bracing himself on the counter and flicking the tap and to your surprise it worked like a charm. 

“Oh my god, you just saved me like hundreds.” 

“Tell Amelia to keep an eye on her bracelets,” he said and tossed a small gold chain on the table. 

“She’ll be getting a job to pay for it next time,” you said and he chuckled, expertly hopping his way over to the chair across from you. 

“The hospital needs someone to drain the bed pans.” 

“Oh perfect,” you said and laughed as he did the same, grabbing a sip of his beer. “Seriously…thank you.” 

“It’s not a big deal, I’ve been fixing my apartment for years.”

“A bachelor pad?” 

“Nowadays.”  

“Oh…Did you have someone else there before?” you asked and he nodded, pulling out his phone and tapping a few apps before turning the screen around to reveal a beautiful woman, arms wrapped around a much younger Jack. “You were married.” 

“Yep. Her name was Lucy, she died about 10 years ago.” 

“Died?” 

“Cancer. Thyroid, they told her she had a thirty percent chance of dying and she still did so I stopped believing in odds after that.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay, she was incredible but it was also a decade ago, she’s faded a bit since then, like my hair colour,” he said and ran a hand through a patch of grey as you rolled your eyes. 

“It looks great.” 

“Thank you for lying,” he shot back and you rolled your eyes as he pulled out a chain, a pair of dog tags and a wedding band with a small diamond sitting on it. “I keep her close.” 

“I bet.” 

“You separated right?” 

“Yeah, a few months ago,” you said and your blood went a bit cold. 

“What an idiot,” he muttered and your eyes widened. 

“What?” 

“He’s an idiot. Separating from you, he should get checked.” 

“What if I was the problem?” 

“I find that hard to believe,” he said and leaned down to pull the prosthetic back on, doing it in record time before standing and walking around your kitchen to adjust it, coming to a stop next to a shelf of trinkets. “Any woman who collects porcelain animals is never the problem.” 

“Do you know that from experience?” 

“My wife collected them,” he admitted and you smiled. “You remind me of her, maybe that’s why I agreed to fix your sink, you both have this spark about you.” 

“A spark?” 

“Yeah, a spark,” he assured and you raised a brow. “She loved to talk me down off the ledge, did it a hundred or so times since and this might be controversial…she was my therapist.” 

“Damn…Wow…Problematic workplace relationships seem to be your thing.” 

“Maybe,” he muttered and took his seat back, smiling at you. “She did a lot more than help with my head…she changed my entire life.”

“I wish I could have met her.” 

“Maybe you already have,” he muttered, barely above a whisper and your eyes widened as he stood, finishing off the bottle and placing it by the sink. “Anyways…Unlike you…I have to work in an hour.” 

“Oh right…you need to get going.” 

“I will,” he assured and grabbed his bag as you walked him to the front door. “Thank you for dinner and the company.” 

“I had to pay you somehow.” 

“Yeah but…I would’ve done it for free.” 

“Jack…” 

“Yes?” 

“About that dinner…” 

“Yes,” he said and got a bit closer, the air between you smelling of coffee and leather as you breathed in deep, still scared but willing to risk it. 

“I’d like to join you one day,” you said and looked up at him, shocked to see him so close, noses basically touching. 

“Can we start with breakfast after your first shift back?” he asked and you chuckled. 

“Eager much?”

“Maybe,” he said and dropped the bag on the stoop, reaching up and placing a hand on each shoulder as you swallowed hard. 

“I’d like that.” 

“Perfect…I’ll look forward to it. Count the days.” 

“Stop being such a romantic,” you shot back and he responded by placing a hand under chin, moving it up and forcing you to look into his eyes, those wide hazel eyes with the word love basically written across his pupils. 

“You bring it out,” he explained and you chuckled. “I go all soft.” 

“I won’t tell anyone at work.” 

“Go right ahead, I won’t deny it,” he shot back and was about to lean down, to close the gap when someone honked behind you and you jumped, separating and banging your shoulder against the doorframe. 

“Uh…have a good night,” you said and he nodded, hand brushing yours for half a second but he let it drop and grabbed the bag, walking back to his car with a grin on his face. 

You waited until he left, shutting the door to the truck with a slam before you stepped inside and closed the door, sliding down it and letting out a loud sigh since it felt like your heart was beating too fast. 

“You are so screwed,” Amelia declared from her spot by the top of the stairs since the townhouse was three stories with a basement. 

“You shouldn’t linger.” 

“I wasn’t.” 

“Then how do you know?” 

“You’re happier than normal,” she shot back and grinned, taking a big bite of one of his cookies. “I like it…and him.” 

“You just met him!” you called and she laughed. 

“Go get your McDreamy mom, I approve,” she shouted and you sighed, running a hand down your face, cheeks redder than ever. 

But a big part of you didn’t care and maybe you were Meredith and he was your McDreamy, the gorgeous attending with a heart of gold. 

The First Day

6 Days Later

Six days after he fixed your sink and you were an hour out from the first shift back, nervous as all hell and trying to make your hair look just right. So far it was being pretty annoying and you settled on a messy bun, casual but effortlessly cute and walked out in your scrubs as Amelia chuckled from her spot on the couch, catching the extra effort. 

“Mrs. Marge is next door so if you need anything, talk to her. You have a leftover plate of spaghetti in the fridge and be in bed by 9pm okay?”

“I know.” 

“It’s been a second since you’ve been alone.” 

“I’ll be okay, I’m 14 now,” she shot back and you rolled your eyes. 

“Yeah for eight days,” you said and kissed her forehead as the doorbell rang and your eyes narrowed.

“Who is that?” 

“Jack said he might give me a ride if he’s free but I didn’t get a text,” you said and checked your phone but the last one was all about his excitement for the date that coming morning. “Maybe he forgot.” 

“Have fun with him.” 

“You be quiet.” 

“I made sure we have earplugs so enjoy it,” she said and you rolled your eyes, shoving her and putting in one wireless earbud, intending to listen to some music on the way since Jack never drove with the radio on. 

“You won’t need them,” you called and she scoffed as you smiled and pulled open the door. “Why didn’t you--”

“Where is she?” Chris deadpanned and your eyes widened, spotting the gun in his hand, pointed right at you and he clicked it, signaling the safety was off and his weapon was loaded. 

“She’s on the couch.” 

“Tell her to pack.” 

“It’s March 18th.” 

“I don’t care, tell her to fucking pack,” he shot back but you stayed put, heat pounding when he stepped closer, resting that gun above your belly button. 

“Put the gun down and I will.” 

“Or?” 

“Or you shoot me and tell her yourself,” you shot back, voice low as he nodded and put it in the waistband of his jeans, not bothering to click the safety off as you called Jack from behind your back, grateful for the headphones. 

“Sweetheart?” 

“Come on in,” you said and hoped he wouldn’t hang up. 

“Thank you,” he said and shoved past you. 

“Wait!” you called and he turned. “Take your shoes off, we’re civil here.” 

“Sorry,” he shot back and pulled off his boots, moving upstairs as you followed. 

“Sweetheart, was this a pocket dial? I mean to call about not being able to come get you, I slept in believe it or not. Also…who is that?” 

“Amelia,” you said and she looked up, eyes going wide. “You remember your father right?” 

“Father…” Jack muttered and you hoped he was starting to get it. 

“He showed up unannounced and really pulled the trigger on my plans,” you said and eyed Chris as your daughter nodded, switching off her console and shoving it on the table. “I can’t get to work, stuck here with him and his trigger finger of a temper, right hun?” 

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Chris asked and you swallowed hard. “Whatever. Amelia, go pack.” 

“Why?” 

“Because I’m taking you to Tulsa, you’ve been gone too long and I have rights, good fucking parental rights.” 

“Careful Chris, you wouldn’t want to abuse that power,” you said and could hear a sharp intake of breath from Jack, glad he finally got it. 

“I’m calling a buddy of mine, they’ll be there soon, keep him calm and get off the phone, you’ll be safe.” 

“Are you done?” 

“Perfect,” you said and moved up the last step, fake tripping and dropping the headphone out of your ear, ending the call as you went. “Sorry…I’ve always been clumsy.” 

“No shit. Pack, Amelia.” 

“No,” she shot back and his eyes narrowed. 

“Pack…right fucking now.” 

“You’re not my dad anymore,” she cried out and jumped up, running over to you as he glared and pulled out the gun. “I’m staying here.”

“I didn’t ask!” Chris yelled and began to wave the gun around as she started sobbing. “Pack your fucking bag and get in my truck.” 

“NO!”

“Fine…sit there and I’ll do it,” he said and gestured to the couch as you complied despite her protests. “God…thank fuck. I didn’t want to use this. Don’t move.” 

“Roger,” you said and he rolled his eyes, stalking off to her room. 

“Mom?” 

“It’s okay. We have help coming,” you whispered and she nodded, curling against your side as you held her close. 

Chris spent the better part of twenty minutes stumbling around the townhouse and shoving things into a duffle bag he found in a closet, preparing Amelia for their journey back to Tulsa. You hoped that Jack was right, that he had someone and closed your eyes, wishing for this all to cease, for the nightmare to be over when a booming voice came from outside.

“What?” 

“This is the police!” it called and he froze. “We have your home surrounded, come up with hands up or release the hostages.” 

“The fuck?” he asked and turned to you, eyes narrowed. 

“Do what they say.” 

“You called them?” 

“So what?” 

“I told you not to,” he said and pulled out the gun, pressing it to your forehead but you didn’t budge, didn’t even flinch since that man had won too many times. “What? You’re not scared?” 

“No. I’m not. You’re just a pathetic waste of a man with a gun in your hand who got a job because his father had one and that’s all you’ve ever been. I should have left years ago, the first time you hit me to feel good about yourself but now I see, I had nothing to fear and I’m right now one half of the strongest person in this room.” 

“Who the fuck is the other half?” 

“The young woman who will learn never to fear a man again,” you shot back and let her go, shoving Chris before he could blink as the guy crashed to the floor right as the door swung open. 

In seconds he was surrounded by men in camo uniforms and massive guns as you sighed, spent and stood back to let them do their work, cuffing him as the guy muttered something about a pathetic bitch that you knew wasn’t you. You thought of Lilly and her story and how she returned a few days later to get her wrist checked, assuring that the guy was in custody, awaiting trial for assault and she was happy, happier than she’d ever been before. She called you strong, said it was thanks to women like you in the ED that she was safe and that the world needed more nurses with tragic backstories, a comment you laughed at. You wouldn’t call your backstory tragic, you’d call it a reminder to trust yourself and your instinct and to run when things get tough and protect the people that mean the most. 

“Holy shit, mom.” 

“I agree.” 

You looked up to find Jack, standing by the stairs in the same camo printed ensemble with a bullet proof vest declaring him as medical and he smiled, walking over and pulling you into a very tight hug. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“What for?”

“I lied to you,” you admitted and his eyes narrowed. “I didn’t fall down the steps, it was him, Chris did it. He found me outside Lana’s and beat me up, threatened to take Amelia and I didn’t say anything because I thought I could do it myself, I was scared to let someone else care. But then you fixed the sink and made my favourite cookies and reminded me that there are in fact people left to trust in this world. I was going to tell you at breakfast, let you in but then he showed up.” 

“Hey…I’m not mad,” he assured and moved you and Amelia out of the house so it could be looked over, just in case he tried something while he was rummaging around. 

“I should have trusted you.” 

“I get it, I really do.” 

“I trust you now,” you said and he smiled, looking over at the cop car with Chris in the back. “You could always beat him up, they wouldn’t care.” 

“Maybe I’ll spit on him before he drives away,” he said and you chuckled. “Also…I lied to you. I don’t call all my favourite nurses sweetheart, only you.” 

“I figured,” you assured and a cop let you know the house was clear as Jack gave him a thumbs up but you stayed out on the lawn, enjoying the cool, night air. 

“You changed everything when you walked into that ED.” 

“Really?”

“You walked in with so much life, all you wanted to do was help people and it reminded me of why I chose this job, why I go to work all the time and spend so much of my life desperately trying to save people. Before you got there I debated quitting, too many lost patients and failed cases and I was sick and tired of spending all night suffering when I chose the night shift because I couldn’t sleep in the first place.” He placed a hand on each shoulder and looked you in the eyes. “But then you appeared and asked where we needed help and looked so damn excited when we saved this little kid who was coding that it was infectious. You acted like you wanted to save the world and all it took was a couple people in an ED, a couple lonely people having the worst day of your life and your one goal was to make it better…and you did.”

“You’ve been sitting on that a while.” 

“Give or take ten months.” 

“What a long crush,” you said and he smiled. 

“So long and I’ve also been waiting to find something else to believe in besides work, something like you.” 

“Something like Lucy,” you guessed and he nodded, cheeks flushing. 

“She told me to find something else that could keep me alive and I assumed she meant work, saving people, keeping others alive but she didn’t…she meant something like this. You have saved me more than any of the patients you saved and more times. A light in the darkness, something to find comfort in when the shift gets too dark or the roof is too tempting.” 

“Do you think she’d approve?” you asked and he shrugged. 

Fate is funny, it always had been and no sooner did that question leave your mouth did a soft breeze shake the tree at the end of your short front lawn, a small fluttering of early spring leaves hitting the ground.

“I think she does.” 

“Yeah, she might,” you said and he laughed, loud and quiet all at the same time, something full of love yet only for you and him to hear. 

“I’m not going into work, can I stay here and we can go to breakfast in the morning.” 

“Yeah,” you agreed and he grinned. 

“Also…this might be too soon…too forward but…” 

“I know,” you said and he eyed you. 

“What was I gonna say?” 

“That you love me,” you said and he scoffed. 

“God no, I was gonna say the breakfast place was going to ruin breakfast forever but felt it was too soon,” he shot back and you rolled your eyes. 

“Really?” 

“Fuck no,” Jack said and lifted your chin up enough to pull you into a kiss, ten months of yearning shoved into every last second of it. “I just wanted to say it myself. I think I might love you, sweetheart.” 

“Good, cause I think I might as well,” you said and glanced at the car with Chris just as it drove away. “He never did, I was always an accessory or a house cleaner but this…this is real love…and besides, he never liked my trinkets.” 

“See…he should get checked.” 

“That he should,” you agreed and he turned, wrapping an arm around you as you made your way up the steps and back inside but you stopped him right inside the door. “Amelia might call you McDreamy.” 

“Like the show?” 

“You know it?” 

“Too many people reference it in the ER,” he said and you chuckled. 

“And?” 

“I’m fine with it…Only if I don’t die in a car accident.” 

“Let’s hope,” you said, “or else I will have to ask for signs.” 

The tree outside rustled again and you chuckled as he leaned down and gave you another kiss. “I’ll be fine. Better than fine. There’s a lot to love right now.” 

“A lot indeed,” you agreed and pulled the door tight, locking it and following Jack up the stairs.

A whole lot of love, still yet to come. 

Maritime Coffee

A Whole Lot of Love Later

“Excuse me?” you asked and the barista looked up, bags under her eyes and you couldn’t really blame her. 

“Yes?” 

“I ordered two iced lattes but I only got one,” you said and she cursed. 

“Sorry…what’s the name?” 

“It’s under Abbot,” you said and she nodded, running off to grab the second as you grinned since that had been one of the first times you had gotten to use it. 

“Here you are, sorry,” she said and handed over the second iced honey oat latte as you smiled.

“All good,” you said and grabbed it, making your way out of the shop and over to the small bench overlooking a river. “Sorry about the wait.” 

“What happened?” Jack asked and you handed over the latte as he took a sip, smiling to himself. 

“She forgot one.” 

“Long day?” 

“Probably, I can relate.” 

“We are going back next week.” 

“Don’t remind me,” you said and he chuckled as you eyed the tan line peaking out from under his t-shirt, evidence of where you had been the last two weeks. “Oh…I ordered under Abbot.” 

“Wow…first time?” 

“First time,” you said and smiled. 

“You still have to change your ID.” 

“I will,” you said and leaned in close, shoulder rubbing his. 

“It’s a good name huh?”

“The best,” you agreed and leaned down for a kiss before you watched a few boats go by, enjoying the warmth despite it being March. 

Even though there wasn’t a cloud in sight and the air could be considered humid, you felt cool air every couple minutes and spotted a tree on the walk back to your shared home, leaves rustling in the breeze.

[emrysmerlinambrose]

Jack Abbot is not a cop nor is he SWAT walk with me for a second.

It's easy to miss and if you don't know this exists you wouldn't have the reference but Jack is with the Pittsburgh Tactical EMS, we know this cause he has a patch on his arm with the Pittsburgh TEMS logo on it.

TEMS is not associated with any law enforcement they are just a different type of EMS. TEMS is someone who is EMS who is also trained with a firearm who goes into high risk situations (like SWAT situations) and acts as a medic. In the event that they needed to be handed a firearm they have to be trained so they know how to use it. That is the only thing that makes them different from typical EMS. He is as much a cop as any EMS is; yes they will work alongside law enforcement just like standard EMS does. That doesn't mean he is a cop!

Calling Jack copaganda interesting considering a) he isn't a cop, b) the show already doesn't show the cops in good light, and c) that he was shown at the end of season 1 to be against the police. Are we forgetting that when McKay was getting arrested at the end he was the one hardcore pushing back (yes Robby got them to leave but he was the first trying to get them to back off).

The more I see in this fandom the more and more I agree with the people who brought up that y'all don't actually like this show you just want to complain and gripe.

[richonnefan50]

Again he works Tems he did not quit being a doctor to be a cop . It like him in the military he was a combat medic( someone correct me but I’m not sure if that mean he was actually in battle or just station there to be a medic ?) . And yes Hashimi gonna roost him wearing swat gear 😭

[justa-gremlin]

Me on Thursday when Dr.Abbot finally show up

[rotteninthepitt]

the night shift fighting for med student reader’s attention

nobody likes working night shifts- even some of the night shifters. but especially the med students who are already running on energy drinks and spite.

luckily all the med students at the pitt had either not started or already finished their mandatory night shifts- that is until it’s your turn. leaving you alone with the undivided attention of the four night shift doctors…

dr abbot was kind- if not a little cranky towards the end of the shift. he’s almost insistent on eye contact- subtly tilting his head to follow your eyes when he talks to you. he made sure you didn’t crash during your first shift, allowing you however many breaks to breathe or make coffee as you liked. he’d pat you on the back after a good catch and praise you under his breath after a save.

he made sure to give you space while still managing to always be there when you needed him. that being said… this is an er- its chaotic, constantly moving and requires you to have good special awareness- so even when he reminds himself to back up he’s not that surprised when you turn around and start talking to him cause you knew he never really left.

dr ellis is much more straightforward. she’s more than happy to complement you or call you out on something you could’ve handled better. you were used to tough love or just.. tough statements in general- but something about parker reminding you these patients need you to be on the top of your game made any complaint or disagreement disappear on your tongue.

oh and the first time you saw her smile- it was so over for you. you chased that high of being the one to make her laugh like you were being paid to. little did you know parker was very well aware of the fact and smugly glances over to walsh or abbot whenever you make a silly joke and look at her wide eyed and hopeful that she found it funny.

dr walsh intimidated you the most at first. she was sarcastic and strict. her arms were almost always crossed and she was perpetually locked and loaded with a snarky come back for anything dr abbot said.

she rarely ever talked to you- and when she did it was typically because of a patient but every other shift you’d get a rare quip from her. usually something about your age or how you follow ellis like a puppy. the sudden friendly jabs always threw you off guard- taking a second to blink at her before awkwardly responding. it took you a while to realize her teasing was meant to make you flustered.

and dr shen? he doesn’t even have to try. because when you eventually grow overwhelmed from abbot’s constant stare, ellis’s flirts, and emery’s smirk he knows you come running to him… he listens to you rant or just lets you sit in silence- always offering you a sip of his watered down ice coffee. he rubs your back when your tired and offers a kind, ‘just a few more hours kid’. he always helps you tie your surgical gown for you if you’re on a case together and need to wear one.

but don’t think for a second his casualness means he isn’t interested- he will absolutely slip in a seemingly sweet comment that can easily be picked apart and become a conversation with hr. once he commented about how flexible he thought you are, dragged his eyes down your body- then just looked back up at you, smiled innocently, and walked off. yeah… john is decidedly not immune to you- he’s just more.. strategical than the others.

[abigailspinach]

[reviewsandreadathons-blog]

AGREED. That shit is still traumatizing.

[kcrlfs]

a long rant about the culture on the pitt twitter, the early season 2 discourse, and the state of the pitt fandom in general.

it genuinely saddens me that a show like the pitt, one that's so needed right now in a country that's currently quite literally systematically reversing course on every progressive reform that's been made for decades and decades, is being torn to shreds regularly on social media by people who ignore all of the things it's doing right. it's never woke enough, it never addresses everything perfectly, no one can sit down and watch more than one episode before jumping online to complain about all the ways they feel like the show has already fucked up, or complain about the ways they're so sure it will fuck up in the weeks to come.

part of the reason why twitter has become so unbearable to me lately is because there are a few accounts on there that absolutely hate this show. they hate it, they think everyone involved in making it is evil, they take every possible opportunity to speak critically about it, they only amplify negative press, and for some reason they continue watching the show.

whether that's to feel morally superior to the people that enjoy it, to hate "ethically" by having full knowledge of what's happening, or (most likely) because consuming it weekly it gives them additional fuel for their complaints, they keep watching. they insist they want nothing to do with this show and it's constantly disappointing them, but they remain some of the loudest people in the entire fandom.

i have no issue with media i enjoy being criticized, and i don't feel guilty for enjoying the work of quote-unquote problematic artists. the issue for me is when it crosses into the realm of what feels like a hate campaign. some of the accusations i've seen leveled at noah wyle, at john wells, at the writers of this show in general are deeply, incredibly over-the-top.

using tracy ifeachor's departure from the show (something we know absolutely nothing about the circumstances of) to accuse the people making the show of being racist and anti-black; alleging that this show was made so that the people at the top could continue years of abuse of their power (something that quite literally no one has claimed); claiming a behind-the-scenes conspiracy to use women of color in order to get people interested in the show and then systematically write them off...

i'm barely even scratching the surface.

to get into the amount of absolutely baseless and insane claims that have circulated would take weeks, and i've genuinely given up hope of ever being able to dismantle all of them. i saw a tweet yesterday that called noah wyle "the most racist man alive." i've seen quote-unquote "fans" of this show writing practical dissertations that read like they hope the women of color on this set are being mistreated so they have additional evidence for their twitter threads. i've seen people saying they "can't wait for the documentary about all of this to come out", and i read that and think... all of what?

the way the pitt was cast means so much amazing, young, diverse undiscovered talent got to be put in the spotlight (people who don't work in the industry may not realize, but it is unbelievably rare for a show to invest so much faith and time and material in new talent). the writer's room includes several women of color whose skill allow the show to feel like it's actually representative of the demographics of the people that make up the healthcare industry. the pitt was the first production to finalize a union contract with their production assistants, a historically underpaid and overworked on-set position. because of the show's format, it employs the same background actors across the entire season, giving background talent months of consistent paid work. so many people involved in the production have raved about the set feeling non-hierarchical, feeling like being part of a theatre troupe, feeling like a place where they're supported both personally and in the work.

and outside of any of that, there's the work of the show itself. i don't believe any art should be above critique even (and especially) if it's portraying current events and systemic issues, but the pitt has made a measurable impact outside of its viewership. healthcare workers say this show has made it easier for their families to understand the work that they do and the way that it stays with them. people have attested that it's opened up conversations for them about things like end-of-life planning and organ donation (a study by USC found individuals were 27% more likely to seek out information about becoming an organ donor after watching this show, and that the impact was particularly great among black audiences, who are historically overrepresented on transplant lists and underrepresented in terms of donors). noah wyle and his mother joined nurses to speak to congress this summer about mental health support for healthcare workers. some of the protocols that were portrayed during the mass-casualty event in season 1 are now being implemented in actual hospital emergency rooms.

at its heart, this is a show about imperfect people doing their best, made by imperfect people doing their best. i desperately, desperately wish for all of us to recognize that none of us are perfect either. none of us are without bias, none of us are free of mistakes, none of us have always acted in ways we're proud of. i see that reflected in the doctors and nurses and patients on this show, and i wish i could see it reflected more often in this fandom as well.

i've been dogpiled plenty on twitter in the past few months for expressing the above, and i'm not naive enough to think that that's not going to happen here as well. i've been called every name in the book, insulted in turns of phrase i've quite literally never heard before in my life, and sent actual death threats. i'm sure the people that have been harassing me relentlessly for months will have an absolute field day with this post as well, but i am at my core a lawyer's daughter who was raised to argue at the dinner table and i don't want to let the the loudest, meanest people control the experience of being a fan of this show.

i think the pitt is important. i think it's important for television and it's important for hollywood and it has the potential to be important for the country, and i would like to see it continue to succeed, and hopefully find an audience that's less obsessed with turning the entire fandom into a war zone & more open to understanding.

[ragingbookdragon]

Jack Abbot sends his residents and nurses the same group text like clockwork at the end of shift before the weekend, just:

“Have a good weekend. Don’t add to the population. Don’t subtract from the population. Stay out of PTMC unless on call, the newspaper, and jail. And if you do end up in jail, establish dominance quickly.”

[feminismandmedia]

[image description: a tweet by user @indigenousAI saying

"fun fact: as a DV survivor i cannot register to vote because doing so makes my address public. anyone who is fleeing or hiding from an abuser is automatically disenfranchised from the political process and this is a feature, not a bug"]

[taehyungsgrowl]

I don’t know of the original poster might not be aware

but!

if you’ve been a victim of domestic violence, sexual assault, or stalking, you can enroll into the address confidentiality program (free of cost!) and be registered to vote as an absentee voter and your name and address will not be made available for the public

it is super easy to get enrolled - the application takes like 5 minutes, but it has to be with someone who is certified to do it (most likely an advocate! try going to a family justice center in your area or calling the Attorney Generals office in your area!!!!)

ALSO : 

you don’t need to have any police reports or have a protection order to qualify!!! you just have to sign stating that you’ve been a victim of one of the aforementioned crimes.

[orgy-of-nerdiness]

Links to the info for every state in the Wikipedia article:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Address_confidentiality_program

Address confidentiality program - Wikipedia

[debthedemi]

Reposting as Primaries and General Voting are coming up.

[rop3bunn7]

this also works for legal name changes, theres a waver.

[rr-after-dark]

peanut - jack abbot x reader, platonic!robby x reader

from the "material girl" universe

Summary: Hosting your Halloween party turns into a visit to the ER when you discover an adult-onset peanut allergy.

Tags/Notes: fluffy stuff, pitt cast costumes, a little robvadi for the freaks in chat sorry

Content: reader described in active anaphylaxis (blood pressure drop, hives, airway closure, vomiting, needle epinephrine)

A/N:

@honestlystop sent me this for my 3k game

hello hello! the BIGGEST congrats on 3000 followers—it’s so incredibly deserved because your writing is such a gift to the fandom. my emoji prompt is: 🥯… specifically with the hope of learning more about material girl! reader’s nickname “peanut” sending you success and joy in this new year!

so i decided to just actualy finish this fic that was supposed to come out last halloween

Word Count: 3.3k

The house is decked out for your annual Halloween bash. Well, this year it’s an October 28th bash since you’re engaged to a doctor and emergency room teams don’t take Halloween off. Everything is splashed in sparkly purple and orange (and pink, naturally) decorations, spooky music pumps through speakers disguised with billowing fog, bowls of candy and chocolate sit on every flat surface, and your spread of themed snacks and cocktails is perfectly in place.

Robby arrives later than he’d planned because Jack eviscerated him over text when he said he wasn’t planning on wearing a costume. It had taken an hour at Spirit Halloween to get a velvet cape and some surprisingly convincing pointy caps for his teeth. The ED’s crew is already here, those who aren’t on call several cups deep on Witch’s Brew, Scary Marys, or Poison Apple Martinis. He grabs a beer from the ice bucket and makes the rounds. A handful have gone all out: Dennis and your sister are dressed as Tinker Bell and Peter Pan, Langdon and Abby are Danny and Sandy from Grease, Trinity is in a black latex catsuit that her current girlfriend can’t stop eyeballing. The others have taken Robby’s route, though. Mel’s wearing her regular clothes with a pair of mouse ears. Cassie has a beard drawn on with a brow pencil after a shift and explains that she’s dressed as Robby, which gets a good cackle out of him.

He spots you and Jack over by the kitchen looking sickeningly sweet, so he heads over to greet the happy hosts. He opens his arms for the mandatory hugs and then accepts your scrutiny of his half-assed but still valid costume.

“Vampire,” you observe, amused and pleased. Then you give him a conspiratorial smile and poke him on the chest. “How fitting since you suck.”

He throws a hand dramatically over his forehead. “I’m wounded.” When his smile subsides, he squints at your couple’s costume. You’re in a hot pink satin gown that stops just shy of sky-high heels, your waist and cleavage ridiculous, with a matching sparkly pink feather boa drapead around your elbows. Jack’s in a vintage-style suit, gray slacks high, shoulders broad and padded, tie short. He’s also wearing one of those wide-brimmed hats. Robby tries, “And you two are…a hot girl and her pervert grandpa?”

“We’re Barbenheimer,” you explain with an eye roll, gesturing like it’s obvious. “Don’t you remember that international sensation or is your memory fading in your old age?”

Robby grips his heart. “Another cutting blow, Barbie.”

You narrow your eyes and admonish, “That’s Superstar Barbie to you, Dracula.”

“Then it’s Count Dracula to you.”

Jack chuckles and squeezes your hip. “And you can both keep calling me ‘doctor.’ Fucking menaces, the two of you.”

A flash of pink and black from the corner of your eye takes your attention. Your hand flies out to catch Victoria’s elbow before she can sneak by. You’d managed to convince her to wear the outfit, but you hadn’t yet gotten her courage high enough to show it off to the one man she really wants to see her rocking it. So, naturally, you meddle. Pushing Victoria in front of yourself and keeping an iron grip on your waist so she’ll face forward, you grin and say, “Robby, isn’t Tori’s costume the cutest thing you’ve ever seen?”

Oh, god. He’s going to die. He’s actually going to drop dead from a heart attack right now.

Victoria Javadi, the recent medical school graduate – very recent, he has to remind himself repeatedly every time he catches himself flirting – is wearing a full pastel pink and black Playboy bunny costume, ears and collar and all.

Robby’s cheeks go red as his eyes rake over her. He’s physically unable to stop himself from staring at her accentuated waist, her exposed legs, her plump lips. He swallows hard and literally rubs his hands over his face to get himself to break eye contact with her tits. Then he squeaks out, “Very cute. Very, ah, flattering. Gorgeous. Pretty, I mean. Nice. Good.”

You smile wide at his state and pat Victoria on the back. “See? I told you he’d think you look hot.” You push her toward Robby and suggest, “Robby, why don’t you grab Tori a drink? Have fun, get comfortable, loosen up.”

When they’re both a few paces away, nervously talking as they go toward the food table, Jack rolls his eyes and pulls you close. “You’re such a meddler.”

“You’re the one who told me Robby likes her back,” you lilt, all sing-songy and innocent. Then you lean in, press your lips to his ear, and murmur, “Now that everyone’s here and occupied, you wanna go upstairs and get some air with me?”

Jack’s hand drags down from between your shoulders, over the small of your back, and ultimately settles on your ass. He gives it a firm, wanting squeeze and then confirms, “Meet you there in five minutes? We shouldn’t be too conspicuous.”

You snort and reply, “Right, of course, it’s not like half of them caught me sucking you off near the ambulance bay last week.”

“And I’d like to avoid a repeat performance,” he says, drawing you in for a slow kiss. “See you soon, kitten.”

You kiss him one more time and then make a discreet exit, ascending the staircase quickly and quietly. Once you’ve gone up the steps and closed the bedroom door behind you, though, a wave of dizziness nearly has you on your ass. You sit on the bed for a minute, catching your breath. It’s easy to write off as a result of the dancing and greeting; hosting can be tiring. After a second to focus, you head into the bathroom and touch up your hair and makeup.

The sound of Jack coming into the bedroom makes your heart flutter the way it always does. Spotting your pink outline, he joins you in the bathroom right away.

“Hey there, superstar.” Jack holds you from behind and kisses up your neck. His hands rove across your stomach and hips and you take a deep breath of his aftershave, his presence and his strong arms steadying you. When he feels you leaning just a little too much weight against him, he kisses your temple and checks, “Feeling okay?”

“I’m a little woozy,” you admit as you lean against his sturdy chest. “Just need to get some air.”

Jack’s eyebrows knit together and he carefully turns you around, that serious, concerned expression taking over his face. He searches your face and checks your forehead with the back of his hand. “When did you last eat?”

Your face scrunches up as you think back on the day. “Shoot, I totally skipped dinner getting ready for the party. I’ve only had Reese’s for, like, three hours.”

Jack gives you a soft kiss and says, “You need something to eat. Stat. Doctor’s orders.”

Tucking against his chest, you tease, “You told me doctors don’t really say ‘stat’ like they do on Grey’s.”

“And they usually don’t fall for ridiculously beautiful patients, but here we are,” he chuckles with another quick kiss. “You want me to bring you something or are we going back in?”

“I’ll come with you.”

Three Snickers bars later, you try to convince yourself that you're feeling much better as you twirl through the crowd of your friends and family, laughing and talking and- Woah. You’re dizzy again and this time it’s not being fixed by a bite to eat or a drink of water or a hefty dose of denial. Where did Jack go? When did the lights get so bright? Fuck, someone must’ve turned the music way up because your ears are pounding and ringing and your skin feels tight like a drum being beaten. You’re disoriented and confused and the whole world is swimming and you topple right into a wall.

“Hey, shit, are you okay?” Robby catches you as you stumble. You try to give him a smile but it comes off crooked and absent. “How much have you had to drink?”

“I’m fine,” you slur, “only had one poison apple martini.”

“Then you need to sit down, Barbie, because I think your blood pressure is tanking.” While he guides you to the floor so you don’t crumple, he checks you over. Hives nearly the color of your dress creep up your chest and neck, blotchy and mean and growing by the second. Dammit. He scans the room and shouts just as he would in the hospital, “Javadi, call an ambulance. Whitaker, find Jack. Mel, come help me out over here.”

You blink hazily up at him. Your limbs are heavy and your tongue feels weird and thick. “What’s going on, Robby?”

“We’re gonna figure that out. Focus on breathing nice and slow for me.” Mel squirts a dollop of hand sanitizer into Robby’s hand and applies some herself. He tells Mel, “Get her legs up and take those damn heels off her. Keep her blood flowing.” He checks your pupils with a pen light that you can barely focus on and asks, “Are you taking any medications or drugs?”

As your brain starts turning to fuzzies and static, you manage to squeak out, “Buspirone.”

Robby’s hands still for just one second. You’re on the same medication as him, but he had no idea you even had anxiety. For some reason, the knowledge twists around in his gut. It feels intimate. Secret. He lets out a long breath and focuses on being a doctor. “Do you feel sick to your stomach at all?”

You go to shake your head no and the world spins. Your eyes flutter and the lights suddenly seem all flickering and dancing, alien and strange.

Robby steadies your head with one of his big hands. He murmurs, “Try to stay still. I’ve got you.”

With her fingers on the inside of your wrist, Mel informs him, “Her heart rate’s skyrocketing but it’s going thready.”

Robby nods tightly, going through the mental list, and asks, “Are you having trouble breathing?” When you respond by wheezing, vision spotting black and white, he mutters, “I believe that’s a yes.”

He opens up your mouth carefully and checks your airway with his penlight, swearing under his breath to see your throat swelling up. Right before his eyes, you start to go pale, perfectly manicured nails trying to claw at your throat as fear blooms in your pupils. Your hands are covered in more of those mean red hives that burn and itch. He’s never seen you looking helpless before and it genuinely terrifies him. He’s triaged thousands of traumas, but seeing your lips turning purple as you lose oxygen chills him to his bones. It paralyzes him like he’s never experienced in all his years in medicine.

Seeing Robby’s frozen distress, Mel straightens up, takes a deep breath, musters all her courage, and barks to the gathering crowd, “If anyone here has an EpiPen, hand it to me right now!”

Relief floods her system when she hears a handful of people shuffling around. Indiana Jones hands over an orange auto-injector and Mel thanks him with a nod. She maneuvers over your body and bumps into Robby, who’s still staring down at you with an expression nobody around him can read. He doesn’t hear Mel the first few times, only registering it when her small hands shove him hard on the arm. “Robby, move! I need to get her thigh!”

You’re only vaguely aware of the thick needle piercing through your dress into the meat of your thigh and the stinging rush of liquid that follows. Finally you’re able to sputter in a breath and it turns into a sob right away. It’s that sound that flicks Robby’s brain back on. He sees you gagging as you try hard to catch your breath, lungs and stomach fighting each other as you panic. He carefully rotates you onto your side and holds your hair out of your face as you curl up around yourself and vomit up a stomach full of Halloween candy.

The EMTs are there by the time Robby’s guiding you through some deep breaths and encouraging you to sip water from his bottle. While they load your woozy body onto a gurney, Robbt rubs the bruising spot on his bicep from where Mel pushed him and praises her, “Good work, Dr. King. Thank you.”

The EMTs start to push you out toward the ambulance, but you reach out and catch Robby by his shiny cape. Sniffling back tears that ruin your intricate makeup, you plead, “Mikey, don’t let them take me alone. I’m scared.”

Robby curses under his breath and grabs his mousy resident running up to the scene, your extremely, extremely drunk and currently useless sister right behind him. “Whitaker, where the hell is Abbot?”

Out of breath, Dennis shakes his head. “Can’t find him anywhere.”

“What the fuck?” He gives you a tight smile that comes off half comforting and climbs into the ambulance next to you, taking your shaky hand in his. “Looks like it’s just you and me, peanut. We’re gonna be alright, though, promise. I’m sure Jack’ll meet us there.”

Voice wobbling with discomfort and emotion, you confirm, “You’re gonna come with me?”

He nods and gives your hand a squeeze. “I’ve got you.”

Still crying as the ambulance rushes down the street toward PTMC, you whimper out, “You called me peanut.”

“Yeah, your puke was, like, half peanuts. You must’ve had a lot of-” When you wrinkle your nose at the image, he remembers Jack saying you’re squeamish and reroutes the conversation. “You didn’t know you’re allergic?”

Your heart rate starts to steady and you’re able to pull in a stable breath. With knitted eyebrows, you tell him, “I wasn’t a year ago. Jackie’s favorite cookies are peanut butter blossoms.”

“Looks like he’s gonna have to give those up,” Robby sighs. You’re still holding his hand with no sign of letting go. “We’ll get you set up for a prick test with an allergist to be sure, but it’s a common adult-onset allergy.”

You give him a mischievous smile as your head starts to feel pleasantly light. “Feels like I’m already doing a prick test getting stuck with you.”

He snorts, “Sounds like that diphenhydramine is kicking in. Stronger side effects with your other medication. Feeling nice and relaxed now?”

You give him a slow thumbs up but don’t try nodding. “All good in the hood.”

As the ambulance stops harshly in the bay, a wave of nausea rolls over you and you let out a sniveling cry. Robby’s cool hand touches your hot face, grounding you back to earth, and he says, “Just breathe, kid. We’re at the hospital. Gonna get you some fluids, make sure your heart and oxygen’s all fine, and you’ll be good to go.”

The ambulance doors open up and you pulse your fingers in his hand. “Thank you, Michael.”

You’re absolutely hopped up on meds to counteract the adrenaline shot when Jack arrives at the hospital. You're in a private room feeling sleepy and blissed out and sipping an apple juice that a nice, pretty boy nurse brought you. He shoves open the door to your room and rushes to your side, immediately scanning your vitals as the automatic blood pressure cuff gives another reading.

With wide eyes and slightly swollen red lips, you grab his forearm and inform him seriously, “Jackie, I’m so sorry to tell you that I’m deathly allergic to peanuts.”

“So I’ve heard,” Jack replies softly, sitting down in the chair by your bed and taking your hand in his. “How are you feeling by now?”

Your lip wobbles as you inform him, “I guess this means I have to resign my candidacy for the role of Mrs. Abbot.”

His eyebrows shoot up to his hairline; he knows it’s gotta be the drugs talking, making you disoriented and delirious, but he still scoffs, “And why would that be, princess?”

You whine like it’s obvious, “Because you love peanut butter!”

He stifles a laugh and assures, “I love you more.”

“Promise?”

“Yes,” he chuckles, rubbing his hand up and down your arm, “I promise I love my fiancée more than peanut butter.”

You accept that for a second but then wail loudly, throwing your head into his firm chest, “What about your granola bars?! You eat those every shift!”

“I love you more than those, too, sweetheart. I’ll switch to the salted caramel ones instead.”

You sob gently as he tries hard not to laugh at your drugged-up suffering. “And your favorite cookies.”

He rubs your back, kisses the top of your head, and soothes, “I’m sure we can make them with almond butter.”

You pull back at that, tears streaming down your cheeks, and sniffle. A big lopsided grin spreads over your face. “You’re so smart, honey bunny. I love you so much.”

“I love you, too.” He presses a kiss to your forehead and says, “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you, baby. One of my old patients from the VA called and I took it outside and I guess Dennis is really, really bad for looking for people when he’s drunk.”

“Is everything okay with your patient?”

“Everything’s fine,” he replies softly. He leans forward and kisses your forehead. You’re such a sweetheart that you’re asking about some random patient while you’re literally in a hospital bed. When he pulls back, he cups your face and says, “They’re getting ready to process your discharge. Since you’ve got a doctor at home to watch for rebound anaphylaxis, I’m busting you out of the joint early.”

You grab him by the back of the head, surprisingly hard for how weak you are, and kiss him with clashing teeth. As he laughs against your mouth, he’s just glad Robby gave you mouthwash before his arrival. “My knight in shining armor. I miss my jammies; hospital gown blue isn’t my color.”

Jack brushes your cheek with his thumb and coos, “Everything’s your color.”

You twirl a finger around one of his curls. “Careful, mister, or you’re gonna end up with your dick in my mouth.”

He smirks and promises, “Maybe tomorrow, champ. You need about twelve hours of sleep before anything like that.”

You pout. “Spoil sport.”

There’s a gentle knock at the door followed by Robby’s voice. “You kids decent in there?”

Jack leans back in the chair and calls, “Come on in, brother.”

Robby slips into the exam room with a warm, tired smile, wearing his black scrubs.

“Mikey!” You reach out grabby hands so he’ll hug you, which he does, not even pretending he isn’t relieved to see you conscious and functional (albeit still loopy from the drugs). You hold his scratchy beard between your manicured hands and say seriously, “You saved my life. I love you so much.”

“Dr. King saved your life,” Robby corrects with a chuckle, patting your hand with his. He extricates himself from your woozy affection and glances quickly over your chart before handing Jack a brown paper bag. “I just stopped by to bring you this. You are now the proud owner of your very own EpiPen. I know it’ll be annoying with all your different cute purses, but you should keep it on you at all times in case something like this happens again. I got you scheduled for a follow-up with an allergist to see if you’ve developed any other allergies since they tend to come in clusters.” He turns to Jack and says, “Make sure she hydrates. Rests. Avoids-”

“I actually also went to medical school, doc.”

He rolls his eyes and teases, “God forbid I try to give our girl the best possible care.”

Our girl.

Robby usually calls you Jack’s girl or his buddy’s fiancée, like you’re an accessory in his life no matter how hard you try to get close to him as a person. Never his friend. Never like he values you as much as Jack does. Never ours.

Your drowsy heart turns into glitter and you reach out to take his hand. “Thanks for taking care of me, Mikey.”

He gives your hand a squeeze like he did in the ambulance and looks at you with the tenderness of an older brother. “Always will, peanut.”

Jack Abbot taglist (1-50): @fveapplestall @acn87 @takethistoheartxxx @cesnaflyer @a-sleepy-golden-storm @dreamamubarak @ccarisi @olivethesillycat @violet-ink @madprincessinabox @chippedowlmug @caterpillarskimono @cherryplasmids @disassociation-daydreams @favoriteimagines2000 @in-the-pitt @artsymaddie @stellaforstar666 @h-the-comet @els-marvelvsp @gremlinkat1992 @carmybearz @rainyraze @mydarlinggardenia @millajay @4rtem4r @daylightandthedreamer @ichiban94 @captainoates @annariddle @thebirdandthebee @lover-girlxx @czarina55 @everythingbutnormal @wittyogredemon @hiireadstuff @aryacoulson @alice-fell-to-far @maxmegara @cari87 @m14mags @secretgardens-inmymind @thepittff @thelightnessofthebeing @honestlystop @milou64

[science-hoes]

My fav S2E1 moments:

- Shen still jinxing things

- Shawn Hatosy’s hot ass wife Kelly Albanese with a dog in her purse

- Robby saying the practice dummy is an organ donor and will donate microplastics to us 😭

- Javadi’s red, white, and blue earring set

- Emma having ALL OF THE THINGS in her pockets and having to take them out lol

- Samira is the prettiest girl in the world

- Dana saying the mom who left the baby is probably just having a smoke

- Robby and Al Hashimi having so many close contact moments where Robby has to awkwardly back up like he knows he’s not supposed to be that close in public (they are 100% fucking)

- Dennis making the med students observe a moment of silence for the nursing home patient with Robby watching so proudly

- Langdon giving a heartfelt apology to Louie for stealing his benzos and Louie saying at least they helped you 😭

- Mel “I LOVE BOBA” King

- Whitaker using Garcia’s toothbrush???

- “Rabbit-bitch” and “Jackrabbit”

- New dad Donnie

- Jesse saying little and serving face

- Shamsi (Javadi’s mom) threatening Robby to convince her daughter out of emergency medicine (“Same time next week?” robby is a lil shit)

- Samira “SIRI TURN ON DO NOT DISTURB” Mohan

- Ellis looking gorgeous for all 15 seconds

- Ogilvie “is there anything I missed? 🤓” Joy “social skills 😒”

- Robby’s glasses 🤤

- Cassie is Horny