DisneyCW

I will post Storie images memes of all my favorite movies shows and much more.

[snoopysupe]

⋆˚꩜.ᐟ CLARK KENT MASTERLIST :

HUSBAND!CLARK M.LIST

DAD!CLARK M.LIST

SMALLVILLE!READER M.LIST

KNIGHT!CLARK KENT M.LIST

SUPE!READER M.LIST

BAKER!READER M.LIST

MISC. FICS

THE OFFICE MINI SERIES

⋆˚꩜.ᐟ ITS ALL IN YOUR HEAD(CANONS)

late night finds

photo collage

reddit ragebait

my girls

cloned

like a virgin

⋆˚꩜.ᐟ MISC.

in the moodboard

[delespresso]

Fiyero Files

𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐒 𝐈𝐓 𝐀𝐋𝐋

weekend games were normal in shiz, but fiyero has a different idea of a game when it comes to the girl who caught his eye

𝐑𝐄𝐑𝐔𝐍

fiyero's arrival in shiz university had everyone in a frenzy, but especially a certain lady from winkie country

𝐃𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

the constant back and forth was totally out of total detestation. . . right?

𝑫𝒓𝒂𝒃𝒃𝒍𝒆𝒔 𝑺𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔

DIVINE

SPELLBOUND (coming soon)

[multiplefandomsonewriter]

One Chicago x Reader Masterlist

Connor Rhodes

Heartbeat Promise (Connor Rhodes x Nurse!Halstead!Reader)

Unexpected Reunion (18+ MDNI) (Conor Rhodes x Assistant!Reader)

Emergency Love (Connor Rhodes x Paramedic!Severide!Reader)

Blazing Hearts (Connor Rhodes x Paramedic!Severide!Reader)

From Exes to Lovers (Connor Rhodes x Nurse!Reader)

Lovers Forever (18+ MDNI) (Connor Rhodes x Fiancée!Nurse!Reader)

Surgical Serenad (Connor Rhodes x Surgical Resident!Reader)

Will Halstead

Unspoken Desires (Will Halstead x Doctor!Reader)

First Time Fears (18+ MDNI) (Will Halstead x Reader)

Daniel Charles

A Hug to Remember (Platonic!Daniel Charles & Platonic!Oakley Finn)

Knock Knock. Who's There? Nightmares (Platonic!Daniel Charles & Platonic!Oakley Finn)

Jay Halstead

Dispatched Love (Jay Halstead x Reader)

"I Got You." (Jay Halstead x Intelligence!Girlfriend!Reader)

Antonio Dawson

Heartstrings Tangled (Antonio Dawson x Reader)

From Tough to Tender (18+ MDNI) (Antonio Dawson x Reader)

Undercover Temptation (18+ MDNI) (Antonio Dawson x Reader)

From Colleagues to Lovers (18+ MDNI) (Antonio Dawson x Intelligence!Reader)

Gossip and Glances (Antonio Dawson x Intelligence!Reader)

Flirting with Risk (18+ MDNI) (Antonio Dawson x Intelligence!Reader)

Love in Sickness (Antonio Dawson x Sick!Reader)

Undercover Desires (18+ MDNI) (Antonio Dawson x Cop!Reader)

Shattered Lives, Mended Hearts (Antonio Dawson x Paramedic!Reader)

Drunken Confessions (Antonio Dawson x Halstead!Reader)

Fighting Fate (Antonio Dawson x Intelligence!Reader)

Love Conquers All (Antonio Dawson x Halstead!Twin Sister!Reader)

Lost in Lust (18+ MDNI) (Antonio Dawson x Intelligence!Reader

Frostbitten Love (Antonio Dawson x Firefighter!Paramedic!Reader)

Undercover Seduction (18+ MDNI) (Antonio Dawson x Intelligence!Halstead!Reader)

In the Line of Fire (Antonio Dawson x Reader)

Hank Voight

Snapshot of Justice (18+ MDNI) (Hank Voight x Intelligence!Reader)

The Silent Treatment (Hank Voight x Wife!Baker!Reader)

Love Under Fire (Hank Voight x Wife!Reader)

Blake Gallo

Two Hearts, One Firehouse (Blake Gallo x Severide!Reader)

Kelly Severide

Taming the Flame (18+ MDNI) (Kelly Severide x Paramedic!Reader)

Sizzling Heat (18+ MDNI) (Kelly Severide x Paramedic!Reader)

Heatwave of Emotions (18+ MDNI) (Kelly Severide x Paramedic!Reader)

Broken Promises, Rekindled Flame (Kelly Severide x Paramedic!Rhodes!Reader)

Through Thick and Thin (Kelly Severide x Paramedic!Rhodes!Reader)

Ignited Desires (18+ MDNI) (Kelly Severide x Firefighter!Reader)

Wounded Hearts, Unbreakable Love (Kelly Severide x Paramedic!Herrmann!Reader)

Flames of Courage (Kelly Severide x Firefighter!Reader)

Passionate Nights (18+ MDNI) (Kelly Severide x Reader)

Saving Grace (18+ MDNI) (Kelly Severide x Fiancée!Paramedic!Reader)

Fireside Romance (18+ MDNI) (Kelly Severide x Paramedic!Reader)

Snowy Embrace (18+ MDNI) (Kelly Severide x Reader)

Beneath the Bubbles (18+ MDNI) (Kelly Severide x Reader)

Sweet Treats and Teasing (Kelly Severide x Reader)

Bride To Be To Bride (Kelly Severide x Reader)

Love At First Sight... Again (18+ MDNI) (Kelly Severide x Dawson!Reader)

Hearts in Conflict (18+ MDNI) (Kelly Severide x Firefighter!Reader)

Undercover Hurt (Kelly Severide x Firefighter!Reader)

Christopher Herrmann

Surgical Sparks (Christopher Herrmann x Wife!Pregnant!Surgeon!Reader)

Peter Mills

Sparks Fly (18+ MDNI) (Peter Mills x Firefighter!Reader)

[vinyljonas]

olivia

joe has missed you since the moment you broke up, and he'll do just about anything to show you how much he wants you back

rating: pg-13, no smut, angst with fluff

word count: 5.9k

masterlist of all my work if you wanna read more :)

authors note: listen he sang part of this song at my second show and I can't stop thinking about it okay, and yes it is still reader insert and no ur name doesn't have to be olivia, just trust me haha. and for the purpose of this story, he hadn't sang it yet. okay i'll shut up now

----------------------------------------------------------

It was finally winter in New York. Sure, the Rockefeller tree had gone up weeks ago, and Macy's was already decorated, but you those didn't matter. The first snow of the season had coated the fire escapes by your window, and that was the true arrival for you. And god, were you relieved.

Winter meant less outings, less activities, less times you had to go out of your house and pretend like everything was fine when it really, really wasn't.

It didn't help that you knew exactly what day it was as soon as you opened your eyes. December 22nd.

Joe was back in Brooklyn.

It wasn't lost on you that he was probably back very frequently and you were just unaware. Hell, you knew exactly how to get to his place still - could probably do it with your eyes closed. And you were sure that if you got on a train right now, he'd be there. But something about knowing exactly where he was had your gut souring a bit. You tried your hardest to spend the morning busy, tidying up the house and tackling a few things for work.

But it didn’t keep it out fully.

How long had it been now? 3 months? 3 and a half? It didn't matter, it still felt just as raw as the first day sometimes.

It had been the right decision, for both of you. Right?

You shook your head quickly, not letting yourself start the slide down into memories you fought hard to keep tucked away. You didn't have the time or energy today.

But everywhere you looked, there he was. The candle he'd gotten you for your birthday was still perched on the coffee table. His toothbrush was still in your bathroom. As embarrassing as that was, you didn't feel like you could throw it away. Even when you went to go get dressed, you spotted the few sweatshirts of his you'd snagged on their hangers in the back of your closet.

"Fuck," you grumbled. It was going to be a long rest of the day. You grabbed something warm, throwing on your boots and trudging out the door, determined to keep it together. You made your way down your countless stairs, out onto the street, opting to walk rather than take the train in hopes of clearing your mind.

The cold air did help, and you popped into your favorite coffee shop, head on a swivel. No familiar faces besides the barista, Tilly. You let out a sigh of relief, moving to the end of the line that was surprisingly long for a lunch rush. You ordered your usual and threw in a sandwich to lighten the mood, card ready as you made it to the end.

"Oh, somebody already paid for yours today," Tilly said. They were a bit sheepish when you looked up at them, eyes narrowed.

"Who?"

"Uh.... I was asked to keep it anonymous. And also asked to give you this," they murmured, reaching under the bar and grabbing an envelope that they passed to you.

You saw your name scrawled on the front in a handwriting you couldn't mistake if you tried. Of course he would know - you'd frequented here for years, and brought him here almost weekly when you were in the city.

"When was he here?"

"Also not supposed to tell you that, but he may or may not have been here at opening. Off the record."

"What are you, some double agent now?" You kept it light, knowing it wasn't Tilly's fault anyhow. No one was good at saying no to Joe Jonas - yourself included.

"Coffee will be right up," they answered with a small smile.

You let out a sigh, moving to your favorite arm chair to wait. The white envelope was stark against your leggings, and you chewed your cheek as you stared at it. How could such a little piece of paper feel so heavy?

After my coffee, you thought. If whatever was inside was going to make you upset, you might as well get to enjoy your coffee first. But once you got your order, you couldn't even make yourself take a sip - you just had to bite the bullet.

Sitting everything down, you slotted your finger under the seal, pulling until it gave way. Inside were two things - a small note, written on a scrap of paper that he'd borrowed from the shop no doubt, and a lanyard with something attached.

You started with the note, the same familiar scrawl covering it in black ink.

please. just come listen, thats all I ask. xxx, J

You read it 5 times over before you could look away and empty the rest of the envelope, already knowing what it would be. Sure enough, the thin plastic attached to the end was achingly familiar, down to the block letters at the bottom stating 'BAND SUITE'. Immediately, you found yourself in a memory.

-------

"So all I have to do is wear this, and I can just go wherever? Seriously?"

"Seriously. Though I would prefer you to keep it to the more security-manned areas, for my sanity," Joe teased, placing the lanyard around your neck. "I have the suite decked out for you, but if you want to venture backstage or anything you're more than welcome."

"Decked out you say?" The butterflies his protectiveness gave you had you deflecting out of necessity. It was your first show of his since tour had just started, and you weren't sure of the ins and outs yet. "What does that mean?"

"You'll see," he grinned. "You wanna come up to stage for sound? Get the whole experience."

"Of course I do." You took his hand and let him guide you through the floor seats, to a gate in the barricade you wouldn't have even noticed. He looked just as comfortable there as he had that morning walking around his apartment, as if the huge stage and massive set up was just another night.

He guided you up the stairs with a strong hand, jogging up behind you and heading to his mic. You wandered down the catwalk, unsure of exactly where you were supposed to be but loving the view - the thought that it would be full of people in just a few hours floored you.

After a few moments, you felt familiar arms snake around your waist and you relaxed back into his chest, easing into a gentle sway that he guided.

"Your suite is up there." He pointed to a small pane of glass above the 200s. "If you turn the light on, during the show, it'll be just bright enough for me to see you," he murmured, kissing your head.

"Is it like that in every arena?"

"Most of them. Depends on the angle of the glass and the stage, but you can almost always tell someone's up there if the lights on. "

"Joe, mics!" Nick called out from behind you both. Joe didn't budge at the sound, just ducked down to kiss you again.

"Anything in particular you wanna hear?"

You melted. It always felt weird to ask him to sing for you, but it was still one of your favorite things and he knew it.

"Surprise me," you said, kissing him again before he jogged back upstage, leaving you to sit down and watch soundcheck unfold.

---------

The sound of a ringtone pulled you back into the coffee shop. Your latte had gone tepid on the table, and you sighed, tucking the lanyard back into the envelope before anyone else saw it.

It was time to go home. The mixture of emotions inside you were threatening to bubble over, and you weren't sure which one was going to make an appearance first - the sadness, the anger, the butterflies, the excitement. But you knew damn well you weren’t going to take the risk of doing that in the middle of your favorite coffee shop. 

You kept it together, the sniffles easily disguised outside in the city wind. But once you made it through the doors, with only you to see, it wasn’t as easy to ignore. What was happening? You hadn’t spoken in over a month, you’d been avoiding social media like the plague, you’d hidden all the pictures in your phone. How did he still have such a hold over you, where one measly little envelope could cause all this? 

And then it hit you - of course he did.

God, you'd been in it so deep. Deeper than you really wanted to admit to yourself if you were honest. And you'd really thought that he was too. But after almost nine months, he still couldn't say it. Just three words that he couldn't seem to get out, even when you asked. And that had been enough. So you'd called it. Told him to work on it, and that maybe some day your paths would cross again, even though even you knew the chances of that were slim at best unless he wanted it.

So, you cried. You sat down on your couch and watched the snow fall softly outside and cried, letting it all flood back to you. You'd spent so long pushing it down, locking it out, and you couldn't do it anymore, not with his handwriting in your hand and knowing that he knew you so well that he didn't even have to ask where you'd be on a snowy Monday morning.

But when you let the wall come down, it wasn't what you thought. No, it wasn't him leaving your apartment with puffy eyes, or the first post you saw of him at his show, living his life like normal afterwards. Instead, you were back in the first night you met.

------------

"Yeah, I know the owner here. We’re chill.”

“Right.” You tried to keep your tone neutral - kind even. But the ego of the man who simply wouldn’t leave you alone was getting to you, and you were struggling to keep it nice. You sipped your cocktail to keep yourself from saying anything else, scanning the bar. It was a bit busier than you were used to on a Wednesday night, but you didn’t mind.

Maybe someone would see you and swoop in to end your misery.

“Yeah, he told me that these glasses were imported. They make a really cool ringing sound when you tap em, look watch.”

He took your drink rather abruptly from your hand, using the corner of his phone to tap at the base.

You weren’t sure if the glasses were just shit or if he was more drunk than you thought, but two taps was all it took for the entire thing to shatter, your drink cascading down you along with splintered glass.

Your shirt was soaked, though it had somehow missed the majority of your pants. It coated your shoes, and you felt the sting before the warmth as a stray piece of glass cut the top of your foot.

“Oh fuck!” He exclaimed. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” All kindness was gone from your voice. Heaven forbid a girl want to have a nice, uninterrupted night out. “Just - leave me alone, alright?”

“I’m sorry, fuck dude my bad. What was your name again? Olivia? I’ll pay your tab.”

“Don’t bother. Just go, please.” He wasn’t even close to your name, but you sure as fuck didn’t want to give him your real one.

He walked away in a bit of defeat as a bartender came over to begin the clean up process. You did your best with a few paper thin bar napkins to mop up your shirt, then moving down to your shoes. It was mostly a lost cause, and you dabbed a bit at the small cut, hoping the alcohol was enough to keep it clean until you got home.

“Olivia? Here.” You heard him say above you.

“Dude, can you not take a hint?” The words came out before you looked up, and you immediately regretted it.

Holy fuck. That was a very familiar face standing above you, hand outstretched with a bandaid pinched between two fingers.

“I’m- I’m sorry. I thought you were someone else,” you apologized immediately, taking the offering and blushing bright red as you stood up.

“You mean you thought I was that douchebag over there? No harm no foul. You okay?”

God, he was beautiful. Even in the dim lights of the dive bar his eyes had a sparkle to them that made it hard to answer.

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine. You’re… are you who I think you are?”

“Probably. Hi, I’m Joe. And you’re Olivia, if douchebag was correct?”

“Douchebag was not correct actually. I’m Y/N.”

“Fake name?” Joe grinned. “I like your style. Done that a few times myself.”

“I can imagine. What’s your go to?”

“Sometimes Adam, sometimes Kyle if I’m feeling particularly annoying. Here, let me get that for you.” He reached over and took the bandaid back that you didn’t realize you were still holding.

And you could have fallen over when he knelt down in front of you, placing the bandage over your small cut with gentle fingers.

What the fuck was happening?

“You uh, carry bandaids often?”

Jesus. What were you even saying? You wanted to take the words back out of the air, but to your surprise, Joe laughed.

“Not usually, but my security has a mini first aid kit. Speaking of, if you wanna come hang over by us, I doubt what’s-his-face will try to mess with you.” He pointed over his shoulder, and you noticed him chew his lip just barely.

“Thank you so much, truly, but my shirt is soaked. I should probably go change, and -“

“I have a sweatshirt you can borrow.” The words practically jumped out of his mouth, and you couldn’t quite place his tone.

Was he… nervous?

“Sorry, I’m probably freaking you out. To be honest, I was trying to come talk to you all night but he got there first. If you wanna go home, that’s fine I don’t mean to pressure you. But if you want to stay, the shirts yours.” There was a genuineness to his tone that had you folding almost immediately.

“Well-“

Just as you started, you saw the same man from earlier reappear over Joe’s shoulder, looking for you no doubt with a fresh cocktail in his hand.

“Yep. Yeah, I would love to go over there. Sure.”

Joe quirked an eyebrow at you.

“He’s right behind me isn’t he?”

You smiled and gave him a small nod, making him grin.

“Well then allow me.” He offered you his arm like a true gentleman, not even flinching at the stickiness you could feel on your skin.

And you watched as he guided you right past the man from earlier, plucking the drink from his hand on the way and throwing him a wink before passing it to you and leading you to the far side of the bar.

———————————

That damn sweatshirt was still in your closet. You’d left in it that night, half because you had to and half so you had an excuse to see him again.

You hadn’t needed it. He’d texted you the next morning and the rest of it was history. God. The two of you talked about that night all the time, always laughing at the absurdity of it. The chances of running into each other, the fact that Joe had been so nervous to approach you, how he’d ‘never seen anyone look a so beautiful in such shit lighting’. You always countered and said it was the other way around, proud of how it would make him blush every time.

But there was an ease there too. A comfort from the first time you’d looked up at him. An instinct almost, that he was going to be a part of your night, and many nights after that.

You missed it. Desperately.

But was it worth the risk?

You went back and forth in your own mind for hours, committing and then backing out over and over, all to yourself. By the time five o’clock rolled around, you knew it was now or never. You were sure of one thing; if you didn’t at least give it a shot, you’d be stuck in a loop of what ifs for the foreseeable future.

“Fuck it,” you mumbled, grabbing the envelope and your coat before you could convince yourself otherwise. Besides, he didn’t have to know you were there.

The commute was a blur, from the Uber to the walk up to the venue. You were grateful that someone guided you to your suite - you were so foggy that you weren’t sure you could find it alone.

Walking in took your breath away. It was just like it was the first night. Well, almost the same.

The blue hydrangeas in the vase were a newer addition - the roses he used to buy you always made you sneeze, and he was convinced you were fully allergic. He’d taken you to botanical gardens to find an alternative you loved in June.

He’d also added your favorite Christmas candies, replacing the usual assortment of classics. But otherwise, all of your favorites were there, waiting for you. He’d even remembered to throw a blanket over one of the seats, knowing you got cold.

Joe had thought of everything, and even that was enough to have your throat tight. God, it almost smelled like him, as if he had been there just a moment before.

Your imagination was going to kill you.

You couldn’t make yourself sit down the entirety of pre show. You listened to everyone below singing, occasionally scanning the crowd while you paced past the windows. Could anyone down there see you? To be safe, you flipped the lights off, glad the arena was bright enough for you to still see. 

The next attempt of distraction was the candy on the counter, but the chocolate felt sticky in your mouth, making you almost nauseous. You poured yourself a glass of water that went down quickly, and chased it with gum to try to bite it back. 

As you crumpled the wrapper, the suite went black and screams erupted below as the show truly began. 

Fuck. 

You shouldn’t have come to this, this was going to be too much for you and you knew it. Stupid, this was a stupid idea. 

The pre show video began to play on the screen and your breathing sped up. Part of you wanted to run back out the door, but you found your body moving towards the windows, drawn in. Was he already under the stage? Did he know you were here? You couldn’t think straight, especially as you saw the stage open up. The fog, then Nick and Kevin. 

And there he was. 

The screams were deafening, but you could still hear your own gasp. God, even from that far away he looked so beautiful. He was in his full blue denim outfit - your favorite of the ones he’d picked for tour. His hair had gotten just a bit longer, his curls a bit wilder. It wasn’t until the camera picked him up that you saw the hint of dark circles under his eyes. Their makeup team was good, but you knew where to look.

The way he moved was almost intoxicating. Such confidence, but still that endearing smile you knew he was sending to anyone he made eye contact with. He’d always said it was his favorite part of the show - making people feel seen, and special. 

You watched as he looked up, eyes scanning until they found your windows. And on that high definition screen across the arena, you could see his face fall at the darkness he found. 

It only lasted a moment before he clicked back into his stage mode, but you knew he wasn’t blocked to walk back upstage when he did. Was he hiding his face? 

Part of you couldn’t imagine that he would care that much. He was the one who couldn’t say I love you after all. Right? But then you pictured him that morning, standing outside of the coffee shop in the snow, waiting to drop off that damn envelope. And it made it that much harder to ignore what you knew deep down. 

Still, you tried. Through the next songs you sang along, trying to ignore the pit in your stomach. You’d remembered the meetings where they’d picked the general outline, how for the first few minutes you’d had to sit on the other side of the room as they filmed for a backstage feature. And once the cameras were gone, Joe had motioned you over to sit on his lap while they discussed, his ink pen trapped between his lips between his scribbled notes. You’d been so at peace then, so happy. 

You watched as Joe tried on 5 different christmas hats during Coming Home This Christmas, and then they dispersed, with Joe coming down the catwalk. 

“Brooklyn!”

His cheer was met with screams that made your ears ring. 

“Wow, it’s so nice to be here tonight. As some of you all know, I have a place here in Brooklyn, whether you’ve seen me just walking around or you’ve watched me try and fail to parallel park here recently.”

You laughed despite yourself. 

“And all these signs are so creative! So many choices, so many things I cannot read outloud. Hmmmm, okay let’s go with…”

You watched as he played a few fan games, landing on a few classic songs that everyone went wild for. It was truly amazing, watching them pull a performance together so quickly for songs that they hadn’t sang in years. 

The rest of the show went off without a hitch, up until you noticed something out of the ordinary towards the end of the set.

You were surprised to see a stage hand scurry out and pass Joe a guitar. He rarely played on stage, and you knew for sure this wasn’t part of the set list. Joe put his mic on its stand, weight shifting nervously for a moment. You caught Kevin give him an encouraging nod before he disappeared back behind the pillars, Nick doing the same. 

Something was up. 

“Man, I love this city, and I especially love this burrow. It’s full of people I love, some of them I know are here, some of them I hope are.” 

His eyes wandered up to your suite again. 

“But I wanted to do something special tonight, for you guys and for them. And you guys won’t know this song because it’s actually the first time I’ve ever performed it so… bare with me, pray I don’t mess it up cause I’m real nervous, uh, this song is called Olivia.”

You froze. 

He began to strum, and then he began to sing. 

Later on, Olivia held on my mind

I spent all night rehearsing a line

'Cause when I thought I saw you standing in the corner, I thought fate had arrived

I swore I got a glimpse of your curly hair

Like you were wearing something I used to wear

Then I'm back in Brooklyn, laughin' 'bout the guy who spilled your drink everywhere

The laugh that came out of you was almost a sob. 

Olivia, how much time has gone by?

Olivia, do you still think about those nights?

The tears were full on now, hot and sticky on your cheeks. His next verse got lost as you tried to keep it together, to fully understand what was happening. The man you loved - still loved, despite everything, was really out there, on stage, singing about you in a way that only you would understand. 

How could it ever be anybody else? You tuned back in, trying to commit it all to memory as the song began to wind down. 

Now I'm unraveling with unanswered questions

Do I even wanna know the truth?

Olivia, how much time has gone by?

Olivia, do you still think about those nights?

Or is it too late to say it now? I'm too afraid, but I'm not proud

Of holding back the words I wish I said, Olivia

Again, his eyes flitted up to you. He had no idea you were even there, and yet he did all this in a hope that maybe you were. 

You dashed to the back side of the suite, knowing exactly what you had to do. 

–--------------------------------------------

JOE’S POV

It felt almost pointless to keep singing. The suite was dark, though he’d sworn in one of his dozen glances that he’d seen a shadow move behind the glass.

Wishful thinking. 

The crowd was liking the song, which felt good, though he didn’t exactly feel like looking for the positives. So instead he closed his eyes and continued to sing, not daring to open them in fear of knowing exactly where they would land. He only had to hold it together for a few more songs, and then he could let the misery back in that had been threatening to take him under all day.

Or is it too late to say it now? I'm too afraid, but I'm not proud

Of holding back the words I wish I said, Olivia

Olivia

Olivia, oh

Olivia, oh-oh

To his surprise, it was Nick’s voice in his ear, spoken into one of the backstage mics that fed to the monitors. 

“Told you she’d show.”

His eyes flew open and sure enough, up above the two hundreds was a small square of light, with an achingly familiar silhouette standing alone. 

She was there. 

Thank god the song was over, because he couldn’t get another word out.

She was there.

“Thank you!” He managed to get out into the mic before he turned away, jogging back behind the pillars. He saw the stage hand follow him, confused, but it didn’t matter. He had to take a minute, to compose himself. She’d actually come. She’d gotten his note, and she’d chosen to come, to hear him out.

That tiny bit of hope he had left, that he’d clung desperately to since the last time he’d seen her, fluttered in his gut.

Was she okay? Was she happy? Would she regret coming, leave before he could even find her and actually tell her what he wanted to say?

He’d never wanted to be done with a show faster in his life.

He used all those years of experience, all those shit days where he didn’t want to, all the times he’d had to suck it up - that’s what he channeled to get through the last few songs. He hoped the fans wouldn’t hold it against him if they noticed.

When the lights cut for pre-encore, he couldn’t get off stage fast enough.

He took the darkness as a chance to catch his breath, staring up through a small gap to see the suite still aglow - though he couldn’t see her silhouette anymore.

Had she left? He prayed to a god that he hadn’t spoken to in a long time that she was still there, still listening. And that maybe she’d give him a chance to fix things.

————————-

You had left the suite under the disguise of the encore cheers, heading to find someone from the boys team.

You’d only done this once before, and you prayed you remembered the right steps.

Sure enough, just like Joe had promised all those times ago, they let you backstage without a single issue, just as the cheers erupted again and the boys went on stage for their final two songs. You couldn’t have timed it more perfectly if you tried.

It was useful in times like these that Joe was a creature of habit. He was almost as strict about his post show ritual as he was his pre - off stage, in ears out, stage clothes off and immediately into something more comfortable, then decompress in his dressing room for a few minutes before making a plan with the boys.

You borrowed a pen from one of the sound crew in the back, scribbling on the backside of the envelope you’d carried with you.

it’s not too late to say it. xx olivia

You left it in plain sight, tucked into the shallow pocket of his denim jacket where you knew he’d see it when he changed, and headed to his dressing room to wait.

It felt like it took ages. The sound was more muffled behind the door, but you were pretty sure you heard when the encore completed and everyone shuffled down the stairs. There was more chatter outside the door as people passed Joe’s dressing room, and even though you were waiting for it, you still jumped when the doorhandle twisted.

And there he was.

He’d changed into a pair of cargo pants and an oversized tee, but you hardly noticed it. No, you were more focused on his eyes, which were frantic until they landed on yours. You could see them soften at the sight of you, and it made your heart flutter in your chest.

“Hi,” you offered after a moment of silence.

“Hi.” His voice sounded a bit tired like it always did after a show, but there was a hint of nerves in there that you weren’t used to.

He closed the door gently behind him, moving a few steps in but stopping a few feet away from you. The silence was palpable, and you could tell by the look in his eyes that you were going to have to break it.

“That show was incredible, you all sounded great.”

“Thank you. I’m sorry I’m being weird, fuck, I just. I didn’t know if you would actually come. And of course I really really wanted you to come, but now you’re here and…”

“If it makes you feel better, I wasn’t totally sure I was actually going to come up until an hour before the show, so. Fair enough.”

“I’m really glad you did.” His tone was so soft, so genuine. He’d inched forward a foot without even realizing it. “It’s so nice to see you. I’ve missed you like hell.”

“I’ve missed you too. A lot,” you admitted, cheeks blushing scarlet.

There was a beat of silence, tension growing in the ever shrinking space between you.

“That song was beautiful by the way,” you complimented him, voice a bit softer than you meant it to be.

“Thank you. I meant every word of it. And I figured it was safer not to put your actual name in it, but I hoped you’d understand it.”

“I appreciate that,” you smiled. “Did you see my note?”

He nodded, tapping his back pocket to indicate he’d kept it with him. You waited on bated breath to see what he would say - if he would actually be able to get it out.

He took a breath, so big you saw it move his chest before he blew it out, and then he began to speak.

“You are my best friend, the best partner, the best person I know, and I have missed you every second since I walked out of your apartment. I miss waking up next to you, I miss hearing you laugh, I miss our coffee dates and our nights in and our stupid inside jokes and you. I just miss you, and having you in my life.”

“And I knew from that first night in that shitty bar that you were going to destroy me. I have never felt something that strong that fast, and being honest with you I fought it. I fought it hard because I knew if I gave in to it all the way I would never be able to get back out. And if you decided that I wasn’t enough, or you didn’t want to deal with all this extra shit -“ he waved around his dressing room -“ I knew that would kill me.”

“And so I tried to keep it at a distance. I tried to protect myself, to convince myself that I wasn’t in it that deep, even though every single thought I had all day was about you. And then you told me you loved me, and it was the best day. But I couldn’t say it back, because then it would be something you could take from me if you decided to go, and I don’t know that I would have survived that. Which sounds so fucking stupid coming out of my mouth right now, but I’m just trying to be honest and tell you everything.”

You hadn’t realized you were crying until you heard your own sniffle during his pause.

“And then you asked me. You asked me to say it, and I don’t know why but I froze. It scared me so badly, and that whole time I’d tried to protect myself from the one thing I ended up causing. And I need you to know that I don’t blame you one bit for breaking up with me. It was fully justified, and I didn’t realize how fucking stupid I was being until you did it. And you didn’t deserve to be treated that way, to not have someone be able to reciprocate you being vulnerable like that. And I’m so, so sorry for putting you through that.”

He looked up at you, eyes almost pleading behind the tears he had welling up.

“But, if it really isn’t too late, I just wanted to say that I love you. I love you so much, and I’m pretty sure I’ve been in love with you since that first night in the bar, and I’m still in love you, and I have been every day since even when we weren’t together. Not a day has gone by where I haven’t been thinking about you, and I’ve been miserable without you if I’m honest. And I don’t want you to feel pressured, and I’m just now realizing this is probably putting you in a terrible position right now so if you need me to go, or need some time I can-“

It only took three steps to get to him, and then you were kissing him.

God, it was so much better than you remembered. Your imagination hadn’t done it justice. His hands felt huge as they cupped your cheeks, holding you to him like he was never going to let go.

You kissed him to tell him you loved him back, to tell him you forgave him, that you missed him, that you understood. You’d tell him later, but you hoped he felt it in the way you wrapped your arms around his neck.

When you finally broke off for air, he didn’t let go. Instead, his arms dropped to your waist, pulling you into a bone crushing hug. And he just held you, swaying just barely, as if he would be content to stay there with you forever.

“I love you too by the way, but you knew that,” you teased, resting your head on his chest. He kissed the top of your head.

“Still?”

“Still,” you smiled. “But you can write me a song anytime.”

“Bet,” he grinned, kissing you again with a smile still on his lips.

[natti-ice]

every time i remember my favorite person isn’t real

[fluentmoviequoter]

Sorries

Pairing: Lev "Oz" Ozdil x fem!ex!reader

Summary: Four months after Oz dumped you because he heard you cheated on him, you're abducted from your home. During their investigation, Oz learns that what he heard may have been wrong, and it might be too late to apologize.

Warnings/Word Count: angst, r gets abducted, discussions of infidelity, one crude comment (it needed to be said), canon typical case elements, hospital scene, fluff and comfort. 2.1k+ words, requested

Directory | High Potential Masterlist | Request Info | Taglist

Lev wakes with a scream strangled in his throat, the sheets twisted around his legs. He reaches out to your side of the bed instinctually, sighing heavily when he feels the cool, empty space. Four months without you, and his instincts to reach for you in the toughest moments remains.

Pushing his fingers through his tousled hair, Lev considers calling you. The day he told you — no, yelled at you, his mind reminds him — to get out of his sight, you’d promised him that you’d wait, be there to talk whenever he was ready. He was so heartbroken, so devastated and confused, at the time that he’d told you he would never want to hear your excuses. The look on your face when he slammed the door haunts him. There really was no reason he shouldn’t have trusted you, no justification to believe what your coworker Lizzie said about you and what you did when Oz wasn’t around.

Knowing he won’t be able to get back to sleep, Oz slips out of bed, straightens the sheets and the comforter, then walks past the downturned picture frames in his living room to reach the kitchen. For the first time in a while, he hopes a case will cut his time home alone short. Anything to outrun the memories of you.

Oz feels like outrunning your memory is a never-ending marathon. In fact, he’s met officers training for marathons that get more sleep than he does. Now, sitting at his desk, Oz begins to wonder if the universe is trying to tell him something or if curses are real.

“We don’t know much about this woman,” Karadec explains, tapping the case board below the victim’s photo. “It seems that she was abducted at or near her home. Her car is still there, and officers kept the friend who called 911 from entering to disturb a possible scene.”

“And we’re here why?” Morgan asks. “Shouldn’t we be at the house trying to find answers about who she is and why someone would kidnap her?”

“We’re getting there,” Karadec assures her.

“But you think he’s back,” Daphne knows.

“Who’s back?” Morgan wonders.

“The press named him Snatch,” Oz explains. “Unsub serial kidnapper. Most of the victims have never been found. Those that were had been through so much they didn’t want to or couldn’t tell the police anything.”

“I watched a documentary on him. You think we can catch him now?”

“You’re our lucky charm,” Daphne says. “So, let’s get started.”

Lev hesitates before he steps into the house, paper booties covering his shoes and gloves on his hands. It looks exactly like he remembers.

“Everybody freeze,” Morgan demands. “Oz, is there something you want to tell us?”

“Me?” he questions softly. “No.”

“Okay, question for the group. When you come into a new house, what’s the first thing you look at?”

“How clean it is,” Daphne says.

“Natural sight lines,” Karadec adds. “Or where the light comes in.”

“Both valid answers and things the average person does. That and they notice whether or not there’s a discernable smell. You know what they don’t do, Oz?” Morgan continues. “They don’t look at the couch like they expect someone or something to be on it, and their eyes don’t track automatically to pictures. Unless they’ve been in that house before.”

“Oz?” Daphne murmurs.

Karadec steps forward and pulls a picture frame off the fireplace mantel. He doesn’t show Morgan and Daphne, but he looks at Oz and says, “Tell us what you know.”

Oz nods, then murmurs your name. “We dated for a while. Broke up about four months ago.”

“And you didn’t think to tell us that before?” Daphne exclaims.

“I don’t know anything about why she would be abducted,” Oz defends. “I haven’t spoken to her since I found out she cheated on me.”

Morgan hums, her brows raised as she taps the back of the couch.

“Does the house look alright?” Karadec asks. “Anything noticeably out of place?”

Oz turns, taking in your space. You spent a lot of time here together. The couch you watched movies on, the kitchen you danced in while baking. Even the photos of you and Oz, cheek to cheek and smiling, displayed next to souvenirs you bought together.

“It looks the same,” Oz decides.

“I’ve looked at everything in these three rooms and unless I find something pretty damning in the bedroom, I’m confident in saying that this girl is still in love with you,” Morgan tells Oz. “And, sorry to burst your bubble, but there’s less than a two percent chance she cheated on you. That had to have been a misunderstanding.”

Daphne raises her hand to Oz’s shoulder, her voice soft as she checks, “Could that be true?”

“N-no,” Oz answers. “I had way too much proof.”

“Then you know who she allegedly cheated with?” Karadec asks.

Oz says the man’s name without thinking. Then, he blinks and wonders, “You think he has something to do with it?”

“Can’t hurt to check.”

“I’ll find his address,” Daphne offers.

“Don’t bother,” Oz interrupts. “I know where he lives.”

Oz wants to knock on the door — he wants to the stereotypical cop knock that scares everyone who hears it. But Karadec leads the way up the walk and knocks three times on the door. Devin’s door.

“Uh, hello, officers,” Devin greets, wearing a football jersey and fraying basketball shorts.

This is what you went for? Oz wonders. Unless, of course, you didn’t cheat and it really was a misunderstanding.

Devin leans to his left and asks, “Oz?”

“We have a few questions about the girl that apparently cheated on Oz with you,” Morgan blurts out.

“Morgan,” Karadec chides immediately.

Devin doesn’t look away from Oz as he says your name. “We were never like that, man. She’s like my sister. I mean, I asked her to go ring shopping with me a few months ago because I couldn’t pick a ring for my girl.”

“You’re engaged?” Daphne clarifies.

“Yeah. Wait, is she okay?” Devin questions.

Morgan says your name for clarity and adds, “No, she was abducted.”

“Oz, man, I’m so sorry,” Devin offers. “Come on in, I’ll tell you what I know, but I have no idea who’d do something like that.”

Oz steps over the threshold and sees a picture of you smiling with your arms around another girl. Devin’s fiancée, he assumes.

“Lizzie,” Oz blurts out before Karadec can start asking the important questions that will help find you. “She told me you were…”

“Lizzie?” Devin repeats with a laugh. “Yeah, that tracks.”

“What does that mean?” Morgan inquires.

“We should focus,” Karadec tries. Daphne shakes her head at him, then returns her attention to Oz and Devin.

“You know Lizzie always had a thing for you, right, man?” Devin counters.

“So, it was nothing more than a rumor,” Morgan tells Oz. “A rumor started by a girl ready to give you a shoulder to cry on.”

“We need to find her,” Oz insists, attempting to ignore the weight of guilt and fear settling in his stomach. “Now.”

“Who’s Lizzie?” Morgan asks.

“Morgan, we’re working the case now,” Karadec snaps.

Morgan grimaces, then mutters, “I know. Who is she?”

“Got a location and a name,” Daphne alerts, holding a signed affidavit up over her head. “Patrol is looking for our abductor now, but Lizzie claims the house is empty.”

“Let’s go,” Karadec says. He stands, then points and says, “Not you, Oz.”

“I’m going,” Oz argues firmly. “You can’t stop me.”

“Less arguing, more saving people,” Morgan encourages, pushing Oz toward the door.

It takes twenty minutes to find the place Lizzie said you were being held. She swore that the man she helped wasn’t Snatch, claiming he was too young and that he just had a bone to pick with you specifically. Daphne got a text during the drive that she was telling a different story to the prosecutor, one that made her a bit more involved and did in fact involve other women. But the hunt for Snatch would continue.

“I can’t believe you trusted this girl over your girlfriend,” Morgan muses as they approach the backdoor of the condemned property.

“Let’s go over all my mistakes later,” Oz hisses.

He and Morgan stay at the door while Daphne and Karadec clear the house. When Karadec calls out for Oz, he rushes inside. He falls to his knees at your side and pulls the restraints off your wrists and ankles, then carefully removes the bandana gag from your mouth. Without thinking, Oz holds you to his chest, his eyes closed as he mutters gratitude for finding you.

“I’m so sorry,” he says, pulling back to see you.

You lift an aching arm and push him away, shaking your head.

“Hey,” Daphne says, taking Oz’s place. “I’m Detective Daphne Forrester. There’s an ambulance pulling up. Do you think you could get outside if I helped you?”

“Yeah,” you whisper. “Please get me out of here.”

“Of course.”

“You should go to the hospital with her,” Morgan advises Oz. “You have a lot of amends to make, and she needs to know that you know.”

“She doesn’t want to see me,” Oz argues.

“But she deserves to know the truth,” Karadec argues. “Go.”

You’re admitted to the hospital for observation, then given IV fluids and precautionary antibiotics. You spent nearly forty-eight hours in that house, surrounded by dust and mold, unable to move or hydrate, so the doctors want to ensure that you aren’t facing any long-term effects before they send you home.

Staring at the television on the wall across from your bed, you don’t see Oz enter with an overfilled paper grocery bag. When he sets it on the chair beneath the window, you turn your head toward him.

“Thanks,” you say before looking away again.

“You can kick me out,” Oz begins. “But I need you to know that I’m sorry. For everything. I’m sorry for believing that you’d do that, I’m sorry for being a child about it and not talking through everything, and I’m sorry for kicking you out that night and avoiding you since then.”

“It’s fine,” you mutter, shrugging one shoulder. “You don’t trust me. Doesn’t matter now.”

“It’s not fine,” Oz replies softly.

“No, what wasn’t fine was you hearing a rumor and believing it over me,” you snap. “Oz, I loved you. I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you and you through it all away because someone said one thing that gave you an excuse to admit that you didn’t love me enough to try to save it!”

“I did love you,” Oz interrupts. He had planned to let you air your grievances, to take every verbal or emotional or maybe even physical punch you directed at him. But he can’t let you keep going believing that he didn’t love you. “I still do. That’s why the idea that you could leave me was so hard. I- I didn’t want to believe it, but when she told me… Just hearing it destroyed me, made me so upset and confused that I couldn’t figure out how to deal with it.”

“So, you pushed me away?” you question, wiping an angry tear from your cheek. “And you didn’t even tell me what I did until after you broke my heart. If you’d just asked me, I would have told you everything.”

“I’m sorry,” Oz repeats. “I never should have listened to Lizzie. And I should have come to you in love and not anger.”

“Lizzie?” you repeat. “Lizzie was just trying to get in your pants.”

Oz barks a laugh at your blunt explanation, then nods and moves closer to your bed. “I realize that now. Devin said the same thing.”

“You talked to Devin?”

“Yeah, when we were looking for you. He cleared some stuff up, reminded me how stupid it was to take Lizzie’s words for truth.”

Offering your hand, you admit, “I understand why it hurt you like it did. And I believe that you were confused and scared, so you acted rashly. Thank you for saving me.”

Lev nods, pushing your hair off your forehead so he can kiss your temple. “I can take you home when you get discharged, if you want.”

You shake your head immediately, clutching his hand. “I don’t want to go home,” you explain. “Not for a while. I think it’ll just remind me of opening the door and Lizzie being there, then him grabbing me.”

“Okay,” Oz agrees, nodding kindly. “Would you maybe want to stay with me for a few days?”

“You- you’d be okay with that?” you check.

“Of course I would. I love you.”

“I love you too. But you’re going to have to make it up to me. With sugar and kisses and letting me pick the movies for the next fifty movie nights.”

“Deal,” Lev murmurs before kissing your knuckles.

“Lizzie,” you scoff. “You’re so lucky you’re cute.”

“I’m lucky,” he agrees.

Oz Taglist🏷️ @maialopez23 @kmc1989 @sogoodtoheritsvicious @hiireadstuff @amesayjpg @wh1sp @maxmayfieldswife @chelseyyouraverageluigi @xzaraparkox @waywardhunter95 @alohastitch0626 @xyrillekl @secretlifeofmarta @person-005 @geekyandnerdyy @redvelvetdreamscom @khrysty-arrlein @hoforfictionalmen-andwomen

[fluentmoviequoter]

Honeybunch

Pairing: Nick Wagner x fem!single mom!reader

Summary: Your daughter (nicknamed Honeybunch) has Nick Wagner wrapped around her finger. He loves her, protects her, and treats her as his own. In response, she changes his entire life with three words.

Warnings/Word Count: fluff, brief angst, Honeybunch is 4, immunization shots, mentions of kidnapping, Nick is soft and protective and touchy, girl dad!Nick, very vague reference to Kev and Ethel in Shameless. 2.9k+ words, requested

A/N: Pictures from Pinterest for aesthetic purposes only! Girl dad Nick Wagner is now a crucial part of my brain and I would give him the world.

Directory | High Potential Masterlist | Request Info | Taglist

Nick Wagner knows better than to check his phone in the middle of a stakeout. Or he used to, at least. Smiling at the picture on his lockscreen, he flicks his eyes up again to ensure the suspect hasn’t exited his residence.

“Everything okay?” Karadec asks, writing something in his field notebook.

“Fine,” Nick answers flatly. “Can I ask why you offered to watch the guy’s house instead of putting someone else from your team on it?”

Karadec shrugs one shoulder. “They’ve got other cases they can work.”

“And you don’t?”

“Sir, all due respect, but my team has been monitoring this guy’s finances, his phone calls, text messages, acquaintances… they deserve a break from him. If I can give them a few hours of reprieve, I’m going to.”

Nick nods, slumping in the seat as he watches the covered front windows of the house. “I like that approach, Detective.”

Karadec hesitates to respond, then says, “Thanks.”

Sighing, Nick glances at his phone again, telling himself he’s just checking the time and not looking to see if he has any new texts.

“Somewhere to be?” Karadec asks lightly. “I can handle this if you need to go.”

“I’m good,” Nick assures him, thinking about the smiling girl on his phone until the door opens and the suspect takes a careful step outside. “Move in? Your case, your call.”

“Let him get to the corner,” Karadec advises. “We won’t let him back in the house.”

Nick’s phone buzzes, and he smiles to himself, looking forward to checking that message after he slaps cuffs on another bad guy.

Nick pushes the door open and removes his key from the lock, then knocks.

“Nicky!” someone yells inside.

With that call, it’s as if the weight of the LAPD has been lifted off Nick’s shoulders. He closes the door, then drops to his knees when rushed footsteps approach him.

“Nicky!” your daughter repeats, laughing as she throws herself into Nick’s arms, trusting him entirely to catch her, to hold her, to protect her.

“Hi, Honeybunch,” he greets, holding her close as he stands.

She laughs at the nickname, burying her face in Nick’s shirt as she clings to him.

“Where’s Mom?” Nick inquires, bouncing her slightly.

“She’s making me dinner.”

“Dinner? Just for you?”

“Mmhmm.”

Nick sighs, patting his stomach. “Man, I sure am hungry,” he muses.

“No mac ‘n’ cheese for you!”

“Oh, now we’re not sharing,” you mutter to yourself in the kitchen. “But when I was trying to have ice cream last night, the key to world peace was sharing.”

“Ice cream is different,” Nick answers. He smiles when you turn toward him, an easy smile on your face as you greet him. “Nothing fair in love and ice cream… and mac and cheese, apparently.”

“She’s been pestering me for it for a week!” you exclaim dramatically, tickling your daughter’s side when you say pestering.

“She deserves it,” Nick decides, twisting her out of your reach. He drops his voice to whisper, “Babe, don’t make her turn on me.”

Your daughter squeals in excitement before resting her cheek on Nick’s shoulder, a bright smile on her face.

“What if I make extra mac and cheese for us?” you bribe, batting your eyelashes.

“What if I want something else?” Nick asks lowly.

“Chicken nuggets,” your daughter interjects decidedly, nodding once.

“Yeah,” Nick agrees, matching her nod. “Chicken nuggets.”

“What do I look like, McDonald’s?” you whisper as you step toward the fridge.

“Definitely not McDonald’s,” Nick decides. He dips his chin to confer with Honeybunch, who helps him decide. “Chick-fil-A, if anything.”

“I guess I’ll take it. Honeybunch needs to go to bed early,” you inform him.

She pouts, and Nick frowns at you.

“We’ve got an early doctor’s appointment,” you defend.

Nick’s eyes snap to yours, his brows pinched as he repeats, “Doctor?”

“Just her yearly check-up,” you explain, rubbing his arm. “She’s fine.”

“I’ve got some time between meetings, if you want me to come with.”

Smiling, you remind him, “That’s Honeybunch’s decision.”

“Hey,” Nick coos, drawing her attention up. “Want me to come with you tomorrow?”

“We get ice cream after?” she checks.

“Absolutely,” Nick answers. He doesn’t give you time to speak before he looks at you and murmurs, “She holds great power. Did you see how she looked at me?”

You give him the same look to remind Nick where she gets it, but it garners a different response when you do it.

Karadec and Morgan are arguing. It’s as consistent as the coffee pot in the bullpen being empty every morning. Nick is waiting for an opportunity to weigh in, but it doesn’t come before his phone chimes with a reminder.

“I’ve gotta go,” Nick announces. “If you come up with anything useful, I’ll have my phone.”

“Where are you going?” Daphne inquires.

“Doctor’s appointment,” Nick answers distractedly, focused on texting you that he’s on his way and already has a car seat.

“Are you sick?” Oz adds.

“Not my appointment,” Nick murmurs as he walks out of the room.

“Whose is it?” Morgan calls after him.

“You heard that but not me when I tried to remind you that there’s a witness waiting,” Selena deadpans. “Selective hearing seems nice.”

Nick wipes Honeybunch’s tears, his own eyes glassy as he kneels beside her.

“Don’t wanna,” she insists quietly.

“I know you don’t want to,” Nick replies. “But this shot will make sure you don’t get sick. That’s really good because you don’t want to get sick, do you?”

Honeybunch shakes her head, then wipes her nose with the palm of her hand. Nick smiles, reaching past her to get a tissue. He cleans her hand, then gets another to wipe her nose. You’re sitting in the chair beside the examination bed, watching them interact. Honeybunch might not have Nick’s chromosomes, but there’s no question that she is his daughter.

“It hurts,” Honeybunch insists.

“Not for long,” Nick promises. “It’s a tiny pinch and then bam, you’re healthy. Kinda like a magic trick.”

She shakes her head, unconvinced that it won’t hurt. You’d weigh in, but you already know that Nick will have more success than you. Honeybunch has him wrapped around her finger. The part that makes you cry happy tears after Nick rocks her back to sleep after a nightmare is that she loves him just as much as he loves her.

“What if Nick holds you while you get the shot?” you suggest. “He can tell you a funny story, so you won’t even feel it.”

She seems to consider it for a moment, then changes her mind and shakes her head. Still, she moves forward and wraps her arms around Nick’s neck. When she turns her face toward him and closes her eyes, you move silently toward the door.

The nurse walks in with light steps and the shot ready to go. Nick drags his hand down Honeybunch’s arm while he tells her a story about something Ingrid did last weekend. The nurse moves in his wake, giving her the shot. The nurse nods at you when she’s done, so you follow her out of the room.

“You ready to be here until she turns 18?” you check. “Thank you so much; that’s the first time she’s ever responded like that. It’s usually hours, if not days, of tears.”

“Of course,” she responds. “It’s what I’m here for. The doctor is on her way back, but I just wanted to… Look, I’m sure you know this, but you’ve got something special with him.”

With Nick, she means. The man who treats your daughter like his own — who drives across town at midnight because she suddenly decided there’s a monster under her bed, who holds her while she gets a flu shot, who would give her anything she asked for.

“I do know,” you reply. “Sometimes I worry he gives us more than he gets.”

“He’s not worried about that.”

“How can you-”

“I see a lot of parents. Engaged, scared of needles themselves, more concerned with their phone or their nails than their kids. And I see a lot of couples. The new parents who are mad at each other because one or the other won’t get up and feed the baby in the middle of the night. The soon to be empty nesters clinging to one another because their world is changing again. But you two? You two have something special and you both carry yourselves like you know it.”

“Thank you.”

“And it doesn’t hurt that he’s gorgeous, right?” she jokes, winking as she lightens the mood.

“Certainly does not. I’m out of my league here,” you respond with a laugh.

“No, you’re not.”

Your brows lift, but the doctor returns and interrupts before you can ask what exactly she means by that. In the room, Honeybunch has noticed the Paw Patrol bandage on her arm and is telling Nick why Marshall is better than Chase. You think for a second you can see his heart breaking.

“You’ve got a healthy monkey here,” the doctor says. “Wait, no, that’s the wrong chart. Child! You’ve got a healthy kid here.”

Honeybunch giggles, clutching Nick’s hand as he stands beside the exam table. The doctor tells you about how healthy she is, checks her vaccine record, and then invites you to ask any questions you have.

“Is it time for ice cream?” Honeybunch inquires.

“That’s the most important question a patient has ever asked,” the doctor muses. “I’ll send the nurse back in to check you out. You’ve got a lovely mon- kid here.”

Neither you nor Nick have ever corrected someone who assumes Honeybunch is yours and Nick’s. Because she is.

You’re in a meeting when Nick calls. It’s the middle of the day, so your heart drops to your stomach. Stumbling over your words, you excuse yourself and find somewhere quiet to answer the phone.

“Nick?” you ask immediately.

“Is Honeybunch at daycare?” he questions.

“Yeah, I dropped her off this morning because I have a meeting. Why?”

“There… Baby, there was a threat,” he admits. “Officers are en route now and I’m heading over there, too.”

“What kind of threat?”

“I don’t know.”

“Nick.”

“I really don’t know. I heard the radio transmission and ran out of the station. As soon as I know something, I will let you know.”

“I- Should I go home?” you ask. “Or be ready to come pick her up?”

“That’s up to you. If you want me to take the rest of the day and take her home until you finish your meetings, say the word.”

You try to take a deep breath, but it feels as if it gets trapped in your throat. “I’m scared,” you confess.

“I know,” Nick hums, the sirens on his car almost as loud as him. “I’ll do everything I can to keep her safe.”

“Keep yourself safe, too,” you demand. “Let me explain the situation and then I’ll head home.”

“Go to mine,” Nick invites. “It’s closer and I can bring her straight over.”

“How do you know it’s closer?”

“What?”

“You said your place is closer. It is. How’d you know?”

“I check in on you.”

“Ah,” you realize, smiling to yourself. “I stalk you sometimes, too.”

“I’ll keep you updated,” Nick promises. “Drive safe.”

He ends the call before you can remind him to take care of himself. The daycare center is surrounded by police cars when he steps out of his unmarked cruiser, the sirens silencing when he shifts into Park.

“What’ve we got?” he asks a lieutenant.

“Apparently this was all a big misunderstanding,” the man grumbles. “Half the kids are elated and touring our shops right now and the other half are inside crying for their mommies because we came in guns blazing.”

“What kind of misunderstanding?”

“From what I've gathered, a dad came in to pick up his kid for an appointment, not realizing that the mom got him five minutes before. When he heard ‘he’s not here,’ he made a comment about leaving with a kid. Someone overhears, think it’s a kidnapping threat, calls 911, and now the cavalry is here.”

“Good to know we can roll out quickly for the next valid threat,” Nick grumbles. “Let the kids have fun until you get another call.”

“Yes, sir. There’s a detective and a social worker around here somewhere talking to the dad. Just in case.”

Nick nods as he maneuvers through the crowd of cop cars. It’s a good precaution to take, but his thoughts have shifted entirely to Honeybunch. She’s either out here somewhere talking to police officers or sitting inside, scared. He’d gamble she’s out here, but he decides to check inside first.

Two daycare center workers are attempting to calm the children gathered inside. Nick knocks and requests one of them buzz him into the main area of the center. He scans the group twice and doesn’t find Honeybunch.

“Looking for someone?” the worker who let him in asks.

Nick offers her name, and she smiles.

“She’s outside with Officer… Pena, I think.”

“Thanks.”

Nick rushes back outside, his eyes narrowed as he searches the parking lot.

“Nicky!” someone yells.

He exhales, relieved as he runs toward Honeybunch. She meets him halfway — it’s more like one-third of the way while Nick covers the other two-thirds, but she fancies herself a fast runner in her new shoes.

“You okay?” Nick checks, holding her close.

“Officer Pena has a K-9!” she exclaims. “Like Chase!”

“You want to go home?” Nick checks. He’ll take her to see all the K-9s she wants another day.

“Can we get lunch?” she inquires, rubbing her stomach. “I’m hungry.”

“Yeah, we’ll get lunch,” he promises. “As soon as I tell Mom you’re okay.”

“She had a meeting.”

“She did. She’s waiting with Ingrid to see you.”

“Ing!” Honeybunch cheers, clapping her hands together.

Nick pulls her up into his arms, waves off a police officer with a question, and secures Honeybunch in her car seat. He’s surprised Morgan hasn’t commented on the fact that he keeps one in his cruiser. Maybe Karadec didn’t tell her about it. He can’t decide which is more telling of their characters.

You’re waiting in the driveway when Nick arrives. He opens the backdoor, keeping a hand on you as you pull Honeybunch out of her car seat. She’s already telling you about Officer Pena’s K-9 before you unbuckle the first restraint.

“But you’re okay?” you check when she stops to take a breath.

“Yeah!” she answers. “And Nicky bought us lunch.”

She runs inside to see Ingrid, and Nick’s hands find your waist.

“She’s okay,” he promises.

“I’m going to kiss you so hard later,” you sigh, leaning against his chest.

“I need to interrupt your meetings more often,” he muses.

“… The blood was at an angle and- oh my gosh.” Morgan jumps when she sees a little girl gazing up at the donuts on Oz’s desk. “Who are you?” she checks.

“Honeybunch!” Nick calls, stepping into the bullpen. “You can’t run off like that.”

“Donuts,” the girl — Honeybunch — points out.

“I’ll get you donuts later,” Nick promises as he takes her hand.

“Uh, Captain?” Morgan asks, looking at their joined hands. “Who’s this?”

“Honeybunch,” Daphne answers for Nick. “Better question: who is she to you?”

“You have a child,” Karadec deadpans, stepping out of Soto’s office.

“I like your skirt,” Honeybunch interrupts, smiling at Morgan.

“A very smart child,” Morgan praises. “Thank you. Hey, who is Nick?”

“Nicky?” Honeybunch repeats, tipping her head.

She reaches up, and Nick takes the cue, hoisting her into his arms.

“Nicky’s my dad,” Honeybunch explains softly.

Nick freezes, his eyes wide as his hand stills on her back.

“Is he?” Morgan asks, just to say something because everyone else looks how she feels. “Is he a good dad?”

Honeybunch nods once. Morgan recognizes the motion as being one of Nick’s signature nonverbal responses.

“He’s the best,” Honeybunch answers.

“He really is.”

Your voice draws everyone’s attention. You wave from the doorway, watching Nick turn toward you slowly.

“I’m getting donuts,” Honeybunch tells you, unaware that she just changed Nick’s entire life in three words.

“She can have one of these,” Oz offers.

“Really?!” Honeybunch checks.

“If he’s sure he wants to share,” you agree. “But please don’t feel like you have to. She knows the power she holds with those puppy dog eyes.”

“Even better,” Morgan whispers.

Honeybunch returns to her own two feet, moving toward Oz as he tips the box so she can see her options.

“You alright?” you ask Nick, tracing his cheekbone.

“She called me her dad,” he mutters.

“Well, what’d you expect? You are.”

“What does she want for Christmas?”

“It’s not even summer yet.”

“We should get her a car.”

“She’s four.”

“And I’m her dad.”

Smiling, you pat Nick’s chest and affirm, “Yes, you are. The best dad ever.”

Bonus:

“I think she’d look good in a G-Wagon,” you muse.

Nick tries to follow you up, chasing another kiss. “The car thing was a joke,” he groans, holding your hips as you smile down at him.

“No, it was an impulse reaction to you being the happiest I’ve ever seen you.”

“I can think of one thing that would make me happier.”

You lift your eyebrows, expecting you know where this is going.

“And Honeybunch already said she’d be a great flower girl.”

“That is not what I thought you were going to say,” you blurt out. “Was that a proposal?”

Nick uses your surprise to pull you down against him, brushing his lips against yours before he promises, “You’ll know when I propose.”

Nick Wagner Taglist🏷️ @person-005 @dreamerxo12 @jennifer0305 @notanotherpotter

x reader Taglist🏷️ @anonymousmuffinbear @kmc1989

[fluentmoviequoter]

Honeybunch

Pairing: Nick Wagner x fem!single mom!reader

Summary: Your daughter (nicknamed Honeybunch) has Nick Wagner wrapped around her finger. He loves her, protects her, and treats her as his own. In response, she changes his entire life with three words.

Warnings/Word Count: fluff, brief angst, Honeybunch is 4, immunization shots, mentions of kidnapping, Nick is soft and protective and touchy, girl dad!Nick, very vague reference to Kev and Ethel in Shameless. 2.9k+ words, requested

A/N: Pictures from Pinterest for aesthetic purposes only! Girl dad Nick Wagner is now a crucial part of my brain and I would give him the world.

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Nick Wagner knows better than to check his phone in the middle of a stakeout. Or he used to, at least. Smiling at the picture on his lockscreen, he flicks his eyes up again to ensure the suspect hasn’t exited his residence.

“Everything okay?” Karadec asks, writing something in his field notebook.

“Fine,” Nick answers flatly. “Can I ask why you offered to watch the guy’s house instead of putting someone else from your team on it?”

Karadec shrugs one shoulder. “They’ve got other cases they can work.”

“And you don’t?”

“Sir, all due respect, but my team has been monitoring this guy’s finances, his phone calls, text messages, acquaintances… they deserve a break from him. If I can give them a few hours of reprieve, I’m going to.”

Nick nods, slumping in the seat as he watches the covered front windows of the house. “I like that approach, Detective.”

Karadec hesitates to respond, then says, “Thanks.”

Sighing, Nick glances at his phone again, telling himself he’s just checking the time and not looking to see if he has any new texts.

“Somewhere to be?” Karadec asks lightly. “I can handle this if you need to go.”

“I’m good,” Nick assures him, thinking about the smiling girl on his phone until the door opens and the suspect takes a careful step outside. “Move in? Your case, your call.”

“Let him get to the corner,” Karadec advises. “We won’t let him back in the house.”

Nick’s phone buzzes, and he smiles to himself, looking forward to checking that message after he slaps cuffs on another bad guy.

Nick pushes the door open and removes his key from the lock, then knocks.

“Nicky!” someone yells inside.

With that call, it’s as if the weight of the LAPD has been lifted off Nick’s shoulders. He closes the door, then drops to his knees when rushed footsteps approach him.

“Nicky!” your daughter repeats, laughing as she throws herself into Nick’s arms, trusting him entirely to catch her, to hold her, to protect her.

“Hi, Honeybunch,” he greets, holding her close as he stands.

She laughs at the nickname, burying her face in Nick’s shirt as she clings to him.

“Where’s Mom?” Nick inquires, bouncing her slightly.

“She’s making me dinner.”

“Dinner? Just for you?”

“Mmhmm.”

Nick sighs, patting his stomach. “Man, I sure am hungry,” he muses.

“No mac ‘n’ cheese for you!”

“Oh, now we’re not sharing,” you mutter to yourself in the kitchen. “But when I was trying to have ice cream last night, the key to world peace was sharing.”

“Ice cream is different,” Nick answers. He smiles when you turn toward him, an easy smile on your face as you greet him. “Nothing fair in love and ice cream… and mac and cheese, apparently.”

“She’s been pestering me for it for a week!” you exclaim dramatically, tickling your daughter’s side when you say pestering.

“She deserves it,” Nick decides, twisting her out of your reach. He drops his voice to whisper, “Babe, don’t make her turn on me.”

Your daughter squeals in excitement before resting her cheek on Nick’s shoulder, a bright smile on her face.

“What if I make extra mac and cheese for us?” you bribe, batting your eyelashes.

“What if I want something else?” Nick asks lowly.

“Chicken nuggets,” your daughter interjects decidedly, nodding once.

“Yeah,” Nick agrees, matching her nod. “Chicken nuggets.”

“What do I look like, McDonald’s?” you whisper as you step toward the fridge.

“Definitely not McDonald’s,” Nick decides. He dips his chin to confer with Honeybunch, who helps him decide. “Chick-fil-A, if anything.”

“I guess I’ll take it. Honeybunch needs to go to bed early,” you inform him.

She pouts, and Nick frowns at you.

“We’ve got an early doctor’s appointment,” you defend.

Nick’s eyes snap to yours, his brows pinched as he repeats, “Doctor?”

“Just her yearly check-up,” you explain, rubbing his arm. “She’s fine.”

“I’ve got some time between meetings, if you want me to come with.”

Smiling, you remind him, “That’s Honeybunch’s decision.”

“Hey,” Nick coos, drawing her attention up. “Want me to come with you tomorrow?”

“We get ice cream after?” she checks.

“Absolutely,” Nick answers. He doesn’t give you time to speak before he looks at you and murmurs, “She holds great power. Did you see how she looked at me?”

You give him the same look to remind Nick where she gets it, but it garners a different response when you do it.

Karadec and Morgan are arguing. It’s as consistent as the coffee pot in the bullpen being empty every morning. Nick is waiting for an opportunity to weigh in, but it doesn’t come before his phone chimes with a reminder.

“I’ve gotta go,” Nick announces. “If you come up with anything useful, I’ll have my phone.”

“Where are you going?” Daphne inquires.

“Doctor’s appointment,” Nick answers distractedly, focused on texting you that he’s on his way and already has a car seat.

“Are you sick?” Oz adds.

“Not my appointment,” Nick murmurs as he walks out of the room.

“Whose is it?” Morgan calls after him.

“You heard that but not me when I tried to remind you that there’s a witness waiting,” Selena deadpans. “Selective hearing seems nice.”

Nick wipes Honeybunch’s tears, his own eyes glassy as he kneels beside her.

“Don’t wanna,” she insists quietly.

“I know you don’t want to,” Nick replies. “But this shot will make sure you don’t get sick. That’s really good because you don’t want to get sick, do you?”

Honeybunch shakes her head, then wipes her nose with the palm of her hand. Nick smiles, reaching past her to get a tissue. He cleans her hand, then gets another to wipe her nose. You’re sitting in the chair beside the examination bed, watching them interact. Honeybunch might not have Nick’s chromosomes, but there’s no question that she is his daughter.

“It hurts,” Honeybunch insists.

“Not for long,” Nick promises. “It’s a tiny pinch and then bam, you’re healthy. Kinda like a magic trick.”

She shakes her head, unconvinced that it won’t hurt. You’d weigh in, but you already know that Nick will have more success than you. Honeybunch has him wrapped around her finger. The part that makes you cry happy tears after Nick rocks her back to sleep after a nightmare is that she loves him just as much as he loves her.

“What if Nick holds you while you get the shot?” you suggest. “He can tell you a funny story, so you won’t even feel it.”

She seems to consider it for a moment, then changes her mind and shakes her head. Still, she moves forward and wraps her arms around Nick’s neck. When she turns her face toward him and closes her eyes, you move silently toward the door.

The nurse walks in with light steps and the shot ready to go. Nick drags his hand down Honeybunch’s arm while he tells her a story about something Ingrid did last weekend. The nurse moves in his wake, giving her the shot. The nurse nods at you when she’s done, so you follow her out of the room.

“You ready to be here until she turns 18?” you check. “Thank you so much; that’s the first time she’s ever responded like that. It’s usually hours, if not days, of tears.”

“Of course,” she responds. “It’s what I’m here for. The doctor is on her way back, but I just wanted to… Look, I’m sure you know this, but you’ve got something special with him.”

With Nick, she means. The man who treats your daughter like his own — who drives across town at midnight because she suddenly decided there’s a monster under her bed, who holds her while she gets a flu shot, who would give her anything she asked for.

“I do know,” you reply. “Sometimes I worry he gives us more than he gets.”

“He’s not worried about that.”

“How can you-”

“I see a lot of parents. Engaged, scared of needles themselves, more concerned with their phone or their nails than their kids. And I see a lot of couples. The new parents who are mad at each other because one or the other won’t get up and feed the baby in the middle of the night. The soon to be empty nesters clinging to one another because their world is changing again. But you two? You two have something special and you both carry yourselves like you know it.”

“Thank you.”

“And it doesn’t hurt that he’s gorgeous, right?” she jokes, winking as she lightens the mood.

“Certainly does not. I’m out of my league here,” you respond with a laugh.

“No, you’re not.”

Your brows lift, but the doctor returns and interrupts before you can ask what exactly she means by that. In the room, Honeybunch has noticed the Paw Patrol bandage on her arm and is telling Nick why Marshall is better than Chase. You think for a second you can see his heart breaking.

“You’ve got a healthy monkey here,” the doctor says. “Wait, no, that’s the wrong chart. Child! You’ve got a healthy kid here.”

Honeybunch giggles, clutching Nick’s hand as he stands beside the exam table. The doctor tells you about how healthy she is, checks her vaccine record, and then invites you to ask any questions you have.

“Is it time for ice cream?” Honeybunch inquires.

“That’s the most important question a patient has ever asked,” the doctor muses. “I’ll send the nurse back in to check you out. You’ve got a lovely mon- kid here.”

Neither you nor Nick have ever corrected someone who assumes Honeybunch is yours and Nick’s. Because she is.

You’re in a meeting when Nick calls. It’s the middle of the day, so your heart drops to your stomach. Stumbling over your words, you excuse yourself and find somewhere quiet to answer the phone.

“Nick?” you ask immediately.

“Is Honeybunch at daycare?” he questions.

“Yeah, I dropped her off this morning because I have a meeting. Why?”

“There… Baby, there was a threat,” he admits. “Officers are en route now and I’m heading over there, too.”

“What kind of threat?”

“I don’t know.”

“Nick.”

“I really don’t know. I heard the radio transmission and ran out of the station. As soon as I know something, I will let you know.”

“I- Should I go home?” you ask. “Or be ready to come pick her up?”

“That’s up to you. If you want me to take the rest of the day and take her home until you finish your meetings, say the word.”

You try to take a deep breath, but it feels as if it gets trapped in your throat. “I’m scared,” you confess.

“I know,” Nick hums, the sirens on his car almost as loud as him. “I’ll do everything I can to keep her safe.”

“Keep yourself safe, too,” you demand. “Let me explain the situation and then I’ll head home.”

“Go to mine,” Nick invites. “It’s closer and I can bring her straight over.”

“How do you know it’s closer?”

“What?”

“You said your place is closer. It is. How’d you know?”

“I check in on you.”

“Ah,” you realize, smiling to yourself. “I stalk you sometimes, too.”

“I’ll keep you updated,” Nick promises. “Drive safe.”

He ends the call before you can remind him to take care of himself. The daycare center is surrounded by police cars when he steps out of his unmarked cruiser, the sirens silencing when he shifts into Park.

“What’ve we got?” he asks a lieutenant.

“Apparently this was all a big misunderstanding,” the man grumbles. “Half the kids are elated and touring our shops right now and the other half are inside crying for their mommies because we came in guns blazing.”

“What kind of misunderstanding?”

“From what I've gathered, a dad came in to pick up his kid for an appointment, not realizing that the mom got him five minutes before. When he heard ‘he’s not here,’ he made a comment about leaving with a kid. Someone overhears, think it’s a kidnapping threat, calls 911, and now the cavalry is here.”

“Good to know we can roll out quickly for the next valid threat,” Nick grumbles. “Let the kids have fun until you get another call.”

“Yes, sir. There’s a detective and a social worker around here somewhere talking to the dad. Just in case.”

Nick nods as he maneuvers through the crowd of cop cars. It’s a good precaution to take, but his thoughts have shifted entirely to Honeybunch. She’s either out here somewhere talking to police officers or sitting inside, scared. He’d gamble she’s out here, but he decides to check inside first.

Two daycare center workers are attempting to calm the children gathered inside. Nick knocks and requests one of them buzz him into the main area of the center. He scans the group twice and doesn’t find Honeybunch.

“Looking for someone?” the worker who let him in asks.

Nick offers her name, and she smiles.

“She’s outside with Officer… Pena, I think.”

“Thanks.”

Nick rushes back outside, his eyes narrowed as he searches the parking lot.

“Nicky!” someone yells.

He exhales, relieved as he runs toward Honeybunch. She meets him halfway — it’s more like one-third of the way while Nick covers the other two-thirds, but she fancies herself a fast runner in her new shoes.

“You okay?” Nick checks, holding her close.

“Officer Pena has a K-9!” she exclaims. “Like Chase!”

“You want to go home?” Nick checks. He’ll take her to see all the K-9s she wants another day.

“Can we get lunch?” she inquires, rubbing her stomach. “I’m hungry.”

“Yeah, we’ll get lunch,” he promises. “As soon as I tell Mom you’re okay.”

“She had a meeting.”

“She did. She’s waiting with Ingrid to see you.”

“Ing!” Honeybunch cheers, clapping her hands together.

Nick pulls her up into his arms, waves off a police officer with a question, and secures Honeybunch in her car seat. He’s surprised Morgan hasn’t commented on the fact that he keeps one in his cruiser. Maybe Karadec didn’t tell her about it. He can’t decide which is more telling of their characters.

You’re waiting in the driveway when Nick arrives. He opens the backdoor, keeping a hand on you as you pull Honeybunch out of her car seat. She’s already telling you about Officer Pena’s K-9 before you unbuckle the first restraint.

“But you’re okay?” you check when she stops to take a breath.

“Yeah!” she answers. “And Nicky bought us lunch.”

She runs inside to see Ingrid, and Nick’s hands find your waist.

“She’s okay,” he promises.

“I’m going to kiss you so hard later,” you sigh, leaning against his chest.

“I need to interrupt your meetings more often,” he muses.

“… The blood was at an angle and- oh my gosh.” Morgan jumps when she sees a little girl gazing up at the donuts on Oz’s desk. “Who are you?” she checks.

“Honeybunch!” Nick calls, stepping into the bullpen. “You can’t run off like that.”

“Donuts,” the girl — Honeybunch — points out.

“I’ll get you donuts later,” Nick promises as he takes her hand.

“Uh, Captain?” Morgan asks, looking at their joined hands. “Who’s this?”

“Honeybunch,” Daphne answers for Nick. “Better question: who is she to you?”

“You have a child,” Karadec deadpans, stepping out of Soto’s office.

“I like your skirt,” Honeybunch interrupts, smiling at Morgan.

“A very smart child,” Morgan praises. “Thank you. Hey, who is Nick?”

“Nicky?” Honeybunch repeats, tipping her head.

She reaches up, and Nick takes the cue, hoisting her into his arms.

“Nicky’s my dad,” Honeybunch explains softly.

Nick freezes, his eyes wide as his hand stills on her back.

“Is he?” Morgan asks, just to say something because everyone else looks how she feels. “Is he a good dad?”

Honeybunch nods once. Morgan recognizes the motion as being one of Nick’s signature nonverbal responses.

“He’s the best,” Honeybunch answers.

“He really is.”

Your voice draws everyone’s attention. You wave from the doorway, watching Nick turn toward you slowly.

“I’m getting donuts,” Honeybunch tells you, unaware that she just changed Nick’s entire life in three words.

“She can have one of these,” Oz offers.

“Really?!” Honeybunch checks.

“If he’s sure he wants to share,” you agree. “But please don’t feel like you have to. She knows the power she holds with those puppy dog eyes.”

“Even better,” Morgan whispers.

Honeybunch returns to her own two feet, moving toward Oz as he tips the box so she can see her options.

“You alright?” you ask Nick, tracing his cheekbone.

“She called me her dad,” he mutters.

“Well, what’d you expect? You are.”

“What does she want for Christmas?”

“It’s not even summer yet.”

“We should get her a car.”

“She’s four.”

“And I’m her dad.”

Smiling, you pat Nick’s chest and affirm, “Yes, you are. The best dad ever.”

Bonus:

“I think she’d look good in a G-Wagon,” you muse.

Nick tries to follow you up, chasing another kiss. “The car thing was a joke,” he groans, holding your hips as you smile down at him.

“No, it was an impulse reaction to you being the happiest I’ve ever seen you.”

“I can think of one thing that would make me happier.”

You lift your eyebrows, expecting you know where this is going.

“And Honeybunch already said she’d be a great flower girl.”

“That is not what I thought you were going to say,” you blurt out. “Was that a proposal?”

Nick uses your surprise to pull you down against him, brushing his lips against yours before he promises, “You’ll know when I propose.”

Nick Wagner Taglist🏷️ @person-005 @dreamerxo12 @jennifer0305 @notanotherpotter

x reader Taglist🏷️ @anonymousmuffinbear @kmc1989

[fluentmoviequoter]

see you when the wrath comes

Pairing: Nick Wagner x fem!detective!reader

Summary: You can't trust your new captain. When he asks you to abandon your partner to do his dirty work, you put your badge before your peace of mind. Yet you have no idea just how many sacrifices have been offered to come this far.

Warnings/Word Count: angst, arguments, not canon compliant (the Roman case bends to my will in this), minor spoilers, injuries, Nick has trouble keeping his hands to himself, fluff, on-duty makeout session. 6.8k+ words

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The sun is filtering in through Soto’s blinds, her attention on her phone when you knock on her open door. She doesn’t notice you waiting, so you press the folder you’re carrying to your chest and watch a cloud float across the sky. Soto looks up suddenly, shakes her head, and beckons you inside.

“Bad news?” you inquire softly, shifting your folder to press it against your opposite hand. “Need me to knock some sense into someone?”

She offers a half-hearted chuckle that worries you. “No. I, uh… I didn’t get the captain position.”

“What?” you ask, dropping your arms to your side. “How? You’re perfect for the job!”

“The powers that be disagree.”

“The powers that be are idiots!”

“Don’t say that too loudly,” Soto warns.

She glances toward the bullpen, her actions telling you more than she did. It doesn’t take a grade-A detective to put to and two together. The new captain didn’t beat out Soto based on qualifications or background.

“Who?” you ask.

Soto taps her fingers on her desk and stands. “What was it you needed from me?”

“Oh, uh, just wanted you opinion on this crime scene.” You lay the open folder on her desk and point to the filing cabinet in the murder scene. “Morgan knows the brand, weight, locking mechanism, all that, but we’re coming up empty on why it’s there.”

“I don’t have any theories either,” she murmurs. She glances at the door again, then whispers, “Nick Wagner.”

Exhaling, you shake your head. “Nepotism and a powerful daddy have a lot more perks than I realized,” you muse bitterly. “We can fight this, Lieutenant.”

“It’s not worth it, trust me on that, detective. We keep our heads down, show the new captain how well our squad works and move on.” She concludes with a shrug. You hesitate to answer, so she asks, “Right, detective?”

“Right,” you agree carefully. Lifting the folder, you forget about the case and snap it closed. “That doesn’t mean I have to like it. Or him.”

“He’s not a terrible guy,” Soto defends. “Wagner’s last squad had a lot of good things to say about him.”

“I’m sure. And now he’s leaving them for a job he doesn’t need, nor is he the best choice for. Not a terrible guy at all.”

Soto tips her head in response to your question, but you leave before she can ask the question you know she has. You may be the only person in Major Crimes who has a history with Nick Wagner — if you can even call it that — and refuse to become the center of attention by broadcasting the fact. So, you find Karadec and ask about the case you’re working. The memory of Wagner’s smile and a stupid joke that shouldn’t have made you laugh as hard as you did threaten to distract you until Morgan arrives.

You haven’t used the Major Crimes coffee pot in months. It burns more coffee than it makes, and what it manages to sputter out resembles motor oil more than something you should be drinking. Yet you find yourself standing beside it, watching each drop that runs down the side of the stained pot as the wind blows gently outside, knocking a branch against the window behind you.

“… Tenacious is also how I would describe Captain Wagner,” Soto continues from the front of the bullpen.

You scoff, shifting to place your chin on your palm as the coffee pot whirs. Refusing to look at Captain Wagner didn’t start as a conscious decision, but then you felt his eyes find you the second he stepped into the bullpen and decided that meeting his gaze would have dire consequences.

His track record thinks for itself, you think. Which part? The betrayal, the lies, how he uses his last name like a ladder while everyone else fights their way up the wall?

Captain Wagner’s voice is little more than a staticky thrum in your ears before someone lays a hand on your shoulder. The last time you heard him speak, you swore to yourself that you would only see him again when your wrath could come around. And yet, here you are.

“Hey,” you whisper, glancing at Morgan.

“New captain?” she inquires. She has no problem looking at him, you notice.

“Mmhmm. He’s giving the old I’m here to help you, not to take over speech.”

“And staring,” Morgan adds.

“What?” you ask, lifting your head from your hand.

“Oh, yeah. He’s been staring at you since I walked in. Not long, I know, but this isn’t an oh-who-is-hiding-back-there stare either, it’s a predatory look if Elliot’s recent National Geographic binge has taught me anything.”

“To start that process,” Captain Wagner continues, “I’m going to be meeting with you individually. It’s nothing formal, just some talk.”

“Oh joy,” you mumble.

Morgan knocks her elbow against your side rather than laughing. It’s the first thing that’s made you smile today.

“Look I need you to do me a favor, Morgan,” you request when Captain Wagner concludes and beckons Oz into Soto’s hijacked office. “Make sure Soto is alright with all of this. There’s only so much I can do because she is my Lieutenant.”

“Yeah, of course,” Morgan agrees. “What about you? Something between you and the new captain we should know about.”

Turning away from her, you reach out and busy yourself with preparing a cup of the thickest coffee you’ve ever seen. It’s somehow more disgusting than you remember, but at least it gives you an excuse to grimace.

“Nothing between us at all,” you answer over the Styrofoam cup. “Not a thing.”

“Convincing,” Morgan deadpans. “Seriously, I want to know.”

“I don’t like people who get things they don’t deserve,” you offer, considering each word before you say it. “He used his name and his dad’s reputation to take a job that should have been Soto’s. I have a problem with his methods, Morgan, but it doesn’t mean he’s a bad captain.”

“Sure,” she murmurs. Then she shakes her head and snaps. “No, I think there’s still more.”

“Go talk to Karadec,” you encourage, stepping backward from the coffee pot. “He doesn’t like Wagner either.”

“Really? Why?”

You turn toward the bathroom to dump the rest of the coffee before you answer, “Because he’s Karadec.”

“Oh, I forgot my jacket,” Morgan realizes.

“I’ll hold it for you,” you offer, gesturing to the elevator when the door begins to open.

“No, no, go ahead,” she insists, waving over her shoulder. “See you tomorrow!”

You nod, then step onto the elevator and press the button for the ground floor. Sighing, you lean back against the rail and watch the number over the door tick down. After managing to delay your one-on-one with Captain Wagner until tomorrow, you consider it a successful work day.

The elevator chimes, a bright 3 blinking over the door. The soft swish of the doors opening precedes the reveal of Captain Wagner standing in the hall. You meet his eyes accidentally, tightening your grip on the strap of your bag. Neither of you move until the doors begin to close again, leading him to extend his arm to keep it open.

“I can catch the next one,” he offers.

You shrug, dropping your eyes to the floor. He’s still wearing the boots he liked so much. “Free country,” you mumble.

Captain Wagner steps onto the elevator then and moves lithely to your side, where he clasps his hands in front of his belt and keeps his eyes forward. It suddenly feels as if there are miles between each floor, your breaths stretching between chimes of the elevator.

On the ground floor, you push off the wall and step to the door the moment it begins to open. Captain Wagner reaches out for you, your first name rolling off his tongue like he has any right to say it. You twist your arm out of his reach and rush toward the door, not sparing a glance back at him when he repeats your name.

“Fool me once,” you whisper, fumbling with your keys as you cross the parking lot.

Behind you, Nick stops at the edge of the sidewalk, sliding his hands into his pockets as he watches you. He’s kept tabs on your through the years; he knew when he accepted the captain position that he’d see you, but he hadn’t anticipated it would go like this.

Nick exhales when your car’s taillights disappear from the lot. He drags a hand down his face, wondering how to approach you. You were a good cop, and now you’re a great detective. He meant what he said in the bullpen this morning — he wants to help, to lead without taking control — but that requires trust. Something he may never get from you, not after what he did.

“Sorry,” Morgan says, brushing past him.

“Gillory,” Nick calls, taking long strides to catch up with her. “Are you Karadec’s partner?”

“Technically, no. He already has a partner.”

Nick’s fingers cross in his pocket before Morgan says your name. He smiles — not merely at the thought of you, but at the opportunity.

“How would you feel about taking a more hands-on role?” he proposes.

Captain Wagner’s office is still bare; his belongings packed in a few boxes that are tucked against the back wall. His name is on the desk plate already, and three leather chairs are arranged around the desk like they’ve been occupied recently. Rather than sitting in one of them, you linger by a cabinet, looking at the map of Los Angeles hanging above it.

The door clicks as it opens, then Captain Wagner greets, “Detective. Sorry to keep you waiting.”

Detective. Not your name, no indication that last night changed anything. Good.

“It’s okay,” you reply flatly. “I’m sure being captain is busy.”

He falls back into his seat with a sigh. “Yeah. I’ll admit I miss the field a little more every time I have to come in here.”

You tip your head toward his boxes and answer, “I could tell.”

Captain Wagner looks at the pile and chuckles. It’s unsettling — the door closed, talking like old friends, him smiling at you. It’s so vastly different than the times when he’d knock on your bedroom door and ask how your day went but somehow feels the same.

“So, why’d you ask to see me?” you inquire, crossing your arms as you stand behind a chair rather than sitting.

“I spoke to Gillory and Soto yesterday,” he admits, looking at you with an intensity that cannot possibly be professional. “They told me about the Roman Sinquerra case.”

“They told you?” you repeat incredulously. Your brows raise as you challenge, “Or did you make them admit it?”

Captain Wagner nods slowly, spreading his hands on his desk. “I’m not the bad guy here, Detective,” he explains. “I want to help my people.”

You scoff, unable to stop it. “Sure. So, what do you want to help me with? Maybe I’m the exception and you think I need help?”

“You’re a good detective- a great detective. And that’s what I need.”

Dropping your arms, you repeat his statement, evaluating it in your mind. “What does that mean?”

“I want you on the Sinquerra case. Not just as Gillory remembers or finds something; full-time.”

“Major Crimes already has a full case load,” you remind him.

“Yes, well… I’m suggesting you take a step back from Major Crimes. Gillory would work with Karadec while you dedicate time and resources to her case.”

“I…” You step around the chair you’d been behind and sit, leaning your elbows on Captain Wagner’s desk. “Are you demoting me?”

“No, no, not at all. I’m — think of it as being reassigned to a cold case task force. It’s a temporary thing. Your partner will be waiting for you when you return.”

“And I’m just supposed to believe that?” you snap, looking up at him. “I take your word that you won’t change your mind and give my badge to someone else?”

Captain Wagner’s nostrils flare, his fingers digging into his desk mat. “I will give it to you in writing if it increases your confidence in me.”

Rather than answering the question, you wonder, “Why me?”

“I told you,” he answers, “because you’re a great detective and I know you can do this.”

Shifting in the seat, you remember Morgan’s face when she first told you about Ava’s dad and his disappearance. In the last week alone, she’s found evidence that brought her closer to finding him. With some time and dedication, who knows what could happen.

“Fine,” you agree. “But I’m doing this for Morgan, not for you.”

Captain Wagner nods stiffly. “I’ll inform Karadec.”

You shake your head as you stand, arguing, “I’ll tell him.”

“Why can’t I do that?” he wonders.

“Because he’s my partner.”

“You mentioned trust before. How do I know what you’ll say to him, that you’ll explain everything without throwing me under the bus?”

“You want to know what I’ll say? I’m going to tell him that I’m stepping away to work a cold case for a few weeks and that I trust Morgan to have his back while I’m gone,” you seethe. Stepping back, you add, “Do you remember what that’s like?”

Captain Wagner doesn’t call out for you when you storm out this time, leaving his door standing open. While you opt to take the stairs back to Major Crimes, Nick smiles, crossing your name of the index cards of meetings resting on his desk.

“This is everything we have,” Soto says, sliding a stack of folders onto your desk. “Sorry it isn’t much.”

“Thanks,” you reply, running your finger along the top folder. “I’ll apprise you of any new developments.”

“Shouldn’t you take those to Captain Wagner?”

You look up at her, unsurprised by the knowing smile on her face. Soto has always been a little too good at reading you.

“I’ll tell him too,” you add. “He’s busy, though.”

“What makes something pertinent enough to bother the busy captain, then?”

“I think Oz needs you.”

Soto turns, her shoulders dropping when she sees that Oz and Daphne aren’t in the bullpen.

“Someday, he really will need me and I won’t believe you,” she points out.

“Eh, he’s a big boy, he can handle himself.”

A hand slams down on the corner of your desk, the delicately painted fingernails giving away the culprit even before you see the sequined skirt.

“Hi, Morgan,” you greet, pulling the evidence stack closer.

“What happened?” she demands.

“I feel like I should be asking you that.”

“I just told her she’s taking your job,” Karadec calls when he enters the bullpen. “Made the mistake of doing it before we got in the elevator together. Now it’s your turn to deal with her.”

“I’m working on the Roman case for a bit,” you explain. “Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“No! Well, not exactly,” Morgan amends. “You’re abandoning your team? Why?”

“I’m not abandoning anyone, Morgan. Look, I can’t imagine what this is like for you. We all want you to get some closure. So, let me give this my attention for a few weeks, and whatever we find, we go from there, okay?”

Morgan crosses her arms. “What if I disagree with this whole thing and don’t want your position?”

“Then they’ll put someone else with Karadec,” you answer. “Someone that we might not know, someone who doesn’t have my trust like you do.”

“I hate it when you do that.”

You smile and respond, “That’s why I do it.”

“You’re just like my kids,” Morgan grumbles as she walks to Karadec’s desk.

“They’ll be fine,” Soto assures you. “But if you need someone on your side, say the word.”

You nod, organizing photos on your desk. “I just don’t get why he asked me. His answer of ‘you’re a good detective’ wasn’t a real answer.”

“Ah, so that’s why you don’t want to tell him everything. Here I was, thinking you wanted all the glory.”

“I want to not be backed into a corner by the captain,” you correct. “Soto, what if I can’t do this?”

She rounds your desk and lays a hand on your shoulder. “You can. We all believe in you.”

But we all doesn’t last long. Karadec and Morgan go out to a murder call, Daphne and Oz are in El Segundo chasing down a witness, and Soto gets on a conference call, leaving you alone in the bullpen. As you organize the evidence that exists so far and get your own handle on Roman’s last-known whereabouts, you find yourself pulled into the story. It’s better than thinking about Captain Wagner, who has walked by the bullpen three times without announcing himself.

Four days into your investigation, you have two boxes filled with evidence, new witness statements, and incredibly grainy CCTV footage from the night Roman Sinquerra disappeared. It’s an improvement, but there aren’t any solid answers yet.

“Burning the midnight oil?”

Your head jerks up quickly, your tired joints cracking with the movement. Captain Wagner raises a hand in apology for surprising you, then slides his hands into his pockets and rocks back onto his heels.

“When I said a few weeks, I didn’t mean that as a challenge or a deadline,” he says. “You still need sleep.”

“Yeah, well, I’m waiting for something,” you murmur, squinting at the loading computer screen.

Captain Wagner peeks in the box at the corner of your desk and presses his lips together. “You’ve made progress.”

“Yeah.” You realize then that he wants information, specifics. “I was going to update you earlier, but you were in a meeting.”

“Oh, it was just my dad,” he explains. “He dropped in to see how the first week was going. You’re more than welcome to interrupt my meetings.” Your brows draw together, and he rushes to add, “If it’s important, of course.”

“Right,” you breathe out. “I found someone who saw Roman at the store that night, got more surveillance camera footage, and I’ve pieced together a few more of his steps. Nothing substantial.”

“You should get some sleep,” Captain Wagner suggests. “Bring fresh eyes in the morning.”

Your cellphone is lying face up on the desk. When it buzzes, Captain Wagner looks toward it, but you snatch it up before he can see anything. The text from your most-recently discovered witness looks promising, and you smile as you respond.

“Think about the advice,” Captain Wagner calls over his shoulder as he leaves.

Looking up, you see only the empty bullpen. Four days without an inquiry on the case… either Captain Wagner trusts you more than you thought, or he has you busy with this case for a different reason altogether.

“Hey, son,” Nick’s dad greets, waving to the empty seat across from him. “Take a load off.”

“I’ve been sitting all day,” Nick argues even as he settles in the chair. “Captains have a lot of meetings.”

“Something botherin’ you?”

“Just a case one of my detectives is working,” Nick admits, rubbing his chin. “Nothing crazy.”

“Being involved in cases looks great to the public.”

“I’m not worried about public perception; I’m thinking about the fact that she doesn’t seem to be sleeping!”

Nick’s dad raises a hand, smiling at the well-dressed couple sitting two tables over. “Watch the volume,” he warns. “Sounds to me like a personnel problem rather than a job problem. Just take her off the case, give it to someone more capable.”

Nick scoffs, lifting the drink his dad ordered just to have something to do with his hands. “You remember the year I volunteered at the academy?”

“Of course. You seemed to like it a bit too much.”

“Yeah, my sergeant’s exam got moved up so I couldn’t keep doing it.” Nick waits, but his father doesn’t say anything. So, Nick says one more word: your name.

“The girl,” his dad agrees, nodding. “You said she had great potential, wanted her on your squad.”

Nick sets his glass on the table and stands. His dad won’t admit anything, but if he remembers, he was involved. It’s the way it was in middle school when his teachers decided to build lesson plans around his sports schedule and the way it is now. Nick has the answer he needed.

“Where are you going?” his dad asks. “We haven’t eaten.”

“I need to check on a few things,” Nick explains, pushing the empty chair in.

“Detectives pull all-nighters, Nicky. You can’t save them all.”

Nick is halfway to the door when he grumbles, “You made sure of that.”

“This guy said he was with Roman that night,” you tell Soto, pacing in her office. “Peter Lafayette sent me pictures, pictures that cyber verified, placing them together. Soto, if he knows what happened in that parking lot, we’ve broken the case.”

“Then you’ve broken the case,” she corrects. “How are you planning to get him to talk? His arrest record tells me he’s not going to want to talk to the cops.”

“I have a plan for that.”

“What does the captain think about your plan?”

“Well…”

“You haven’t told him,” Soto knows. “Look, you don’t have to tell me anything you aren’t comfortable sharing, but there’s more to this than not getting an answer about why he chose you for the case, isn’t there?”

“Lieutenant, do you trust me?”

“Of course.”

You smile and step toward the door. “Thank you. I needed the confidence.”

Twelve hours after your discussion with Soto, you pause at the entrance of your apartment building with your hand cradled to your chest and unshed tears burning your eyes. The scrapes along your arms sting, and the darkening bruise over your cheekbone is beginning to ache.

“Hey- whoa,” one of your neighbors says, nearly dropping the bag of groceries in his arms. “What happened?”

“I tripped on a curb,” you lie, offering a small smile. “Landed in the worst way possible, I think.”

“Want me to take a look?” he offers. “I’m right around the corner.”

You look down at your wrist, then nod. You’ve been in Landon’s apartment more than once — typically, one of you is bringing dinner for the other after a long day. He’s an ER nurse, so you hear about the conditions at one another’s workplaces often.

“Here,” Landon offers, patting his counter.

You lay your arm on the cool granite, hissing at the pain that shoots through your arm. The only benefit is that it distracts you from your building headache.

“It doesn’t look broken,” Landon decides, carefully turning your hand palm-up. “Can’t be sure without an x-ray, of course.”

“It doesn’t feel broken,” you agree.

“Splinting it will hurt, but I think it’s your best bet. Based on the swelling, I’m thinking it’s a minor strain, just looks worse from the bruising. A week or so of minimal movements, ice, and elevation should make you good as new.”

“A week?” you repeat. “From tripping?”

Landon looks at you, his eyes steady and his lips pursed. “Tripping,” he repeats.

You exhale, dropping your chin toward your chest. “How could you tell?”

“Well, cops are notoriously bad liars,” he explains. “That and I can see the bruises from their fingers tightening around your skin.”

You jerk your arm back, frowning when you see the red handprint circling your wrist. “At least it’s not broken,” you murmur.

“Want the rest bandaged?” Landon offers.

After puffing out your cheeks, you answer, “Yes, please.”

Across town, Nick turns over, punching a pillow before he rolls onto his back and exhales. Since that night in the station last week when he found you working after everyone had gone home, he’s kept a closer eye on you. He managed to lie to himself for a day or two that it was about the case, but alone, restless, thinking about you, he can admit it.

Nick Wagner is attached to you. Not in the same way that he cares about Daphne and Oz as detectives, and not only because of what happened before. He wants to be close to you, wants to know that you’re okay, wants to tell you everything.

He pulls his phone off the nightstand and finds your contact. Your number might have changed, but he won’t know unless he calls it. Groaning, he tosses his phone onto the twisted sheets and buries his face in his pillow. He’ll find you first thing in the morning at the station, he decides.

“Non-addictive NSAID?” Morgan offers, extending a full bottle toward you.

You nod, taking two pulls before you pass it back. “Thanks,” you murmur after swallowing them.

“I have kids, they get hurt a lot,” she says. “Not quite like that, though.”

“That’s a good thing, Morgan.”

Morgan sighs, stepping forward to see you clearly. “You tell me you’re leaving early because you’re going on a date, then show up the next morning bandaged and bruised. You need to talk to someone.”

“Who do you recommend?” you counter. “Karadec? Imagine how well that would go.”

She prepares to keep arguing, but the elevator door opens and you squeeze past her to get to the bullpen. Nearly immediately, you regret your decision. A lecture from Morgan Gillory is better than anything that Captain Nick Wagner can say or do. He sees you before you can turn or run, his eyes darkening as he stands from your desk.

“A word?” he requests lowly.

You swallow thickly, nodding. “Sure.”

Soto volunteers her office, staring at you in response to your questioning look. Captain Wagner locks the door behind you and closes all the blinds, his breathing slow and even.

“If you’re going to yell at me, please just do it,” you murmur.

He raises his hands to his hips, looking from the bruise on your cheek to the bandages to your arm and finally to the brace on your wrist.

“What happened?” he demands.

“I tripped,” you answer, offering the same lie you told Landon. It makes it easier.

“You tripped,” he repeats. “You really expect me to believe that?”

“Believe whatever you want. You asked what happened and I answered. I tripped.”

Outside the bullpen, Karadec stops at Morgan’s side, nodding to himself. “She’s hiding something,” he knows. “Do you know what happened?”

“I have an idea,” Morgan admits.

“Should we do something about it?”

Morgan turns to face him and admits, “That’s the part I’m not sure about.”

“I feel like you’re mad at me for getting hurt,” you say, leaning against Soto’s desk.

“I am aggravated that you’re not telling me everything,” Captain Wagner counters. “If you tell me what really happened, we can do something about it.”

“Don’t need to do anything about tripping. Unless you’re planning to outlaw concrete steps.”

He raises a hand, pressing his thumb and forefinger against his eyelids. “Nothing happened?” he asks. Again.

“Nothing happened,” you affirm.

Without another word, he drops his hand and walks out of the office. You hear him tell Morgan that he has a question about their new case, but you need to get back to finding Roman.

Nick places his badge in front of the hostess’s screen, offering a tight smile when she raises her head.

“I need to see your security camera footage from last night,” he requests.

“What’s this regarding?” the manager asks, approaching from the left.

Nick returns his badge to his belt and answers, “One of my police officers was injured last night, and I’d like to get proof of the specifics.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that, Officer…”

“Nick Wagner. Captain Nick Wagner.”

The manager nods rapidly, waving for Nick to follow him through the restaurant and to an office off the kitchen. He finds the footage easily and steps back so Nick can watch. He now has an HD view of the man sitting across from you.

“Is your officer alright?” the manager asks.

“She will be,” Nick promises, taking a picture of the screen. His fingers tighten around the phone when the man grasps your wrist, pulling you against the table with it. “You need to get better security or hire some more situationally aware servers,” he tells the manager on his way out.

It takes two weeks to find another reliable informant. You’re so close to finding Roman you can practically feel it. Now, waiting outside a cold storage facility, you shift your weight from left to right and wonder what it will feel like to get answers for a family you’ve gotten to know so well. It’ll be different than solving other cases, where the family feels more like a client.

A man steps out of the door beside you and says your name.

“That’s me,” you answer, offering your hand. “Thanks for meeting me on such short notice.”

“Sure,” he replies, glancing over his shoulder. “Want to come in to talk?”

You nod, stepping inside while he holds the door open. He gestures for you to walk beside him as he ventures farther into the building.

“I hear you and Jamie Lafayette are friends?” you check.

“Yeah, he and I ran in the same circles as kids,” the informant answers. He doesn’t seem to know that Lafayette met with you a few weeks ago and decided you were asking too many questions about Roman. Or he’s waiting to make his move. Either way, you need to know what he knows.

“So, why are you looking for Roman?” he asks. “You have his kid or something?”

“There you are!”

You look up, your eyes widening when you see Captain Wagner walking toward you. He has his badge on his hip, the light above you making it even more obvious than it would be otherwise. You shake your head in a silent warning, but he doesn’t seem to notice or simply doesn’t care.

“Detective,” he sighs. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

“Detective?” your informant repeats.  He looks at you, then at your healed wrist. “Jamie!” he yells before pulling a gun from his waistband.

Captain Wagner pulls you to the ground, sliding behind an industrial-sized metal fridge before the man starts firing.

“You blew my cover!” you accuse quietly, scrambling away from him at the gunshots continue.

“Yell at me later,” he replies. Looking around, he reminds you, “We need better cover.”

You exhale, turning away from him. There’s an open freezer about ten feet away. It isn’t large but it looks thick enough that it might stop a bullet. Might.

“It’ll work,” Captain Wagner agrees when you point. “On my mark. Three, two, go.”

You stay low, moving quickly and quietly until you’re inside the freezer. Captain Wagner reaches up and pulls the door closed, then tugs the key from the lock before the lights dim.

“Uh oh,” he whispers, obviously speaking to himself.

“What?” you ask, rising to your knees.

He shows you the key, or what’s left of it. Half of it must have broken off in the lock when he pulled it out.

“Great,” you complain, rubbing your hands on your arms.

Another gunshot echoes off the metal of the freezer, leading you to duck and cover your ears. In seconds, unnumerable bullets collide with the freezer. You feel Captain Wagner’s arms come around you but don’t focus on the implications of what he’s doing. When the shooting ceases, you realize that you’ve fisted his shirt in your hand and his palm is pressed between your shoulder blades.

“Captain,” you breathe out.

He doesn’t move away from you, his warmth comforting when the cold begins to seep in. “Nick,” he whispers, pulling back to look at your face. “Please.”

You shake your head and move your hips backward. Your back collides with a heavy cardboard box, stopping you from putting more space between you.

“You blew my cover,” you repeat, wiping your nose. “Why?”

“I knew Lafayette was here,” he explains, shifting to take his jacket off.

“How do you know about Lafayette?”

“I… Look, who knows how long we’re going to be stuck in here. Just come here,” he pleads, spreading his fingers when he reaches for you.

“No,” you argue, pressing yourself as far as you can get from him. “I- I don’t know how you justify expecting my trust, but you’ve done more than enough. You did more than enough even before you almost got me shot!”

“I know that I messed up,” Captain Wagner answers, nodding as he balls his jacket up against his chest. “And you have every right to be angry with me.”

“I want to do a little more than be angry,” you snap. “I promised myself that when I saw you again, I’d release my wrath for everything you did, all you made me feel. But I wanted to see you on my terms, not have you barge your way into my life!”

Captain Wagner presses his hands together, his jaw tight before he exclaims, “Good! Then get angry! Yell at me, take out everything you felt, all that I put you through but please please don’t run away from me.”

His voice drops, and by the time he utters the second please, it’s little more than a whisper. You shake your head, digging your finger into your thighs.

“You found Lafayette?” you ask softly.

“Yeah. Morgan told me which restaurant you went to-”

You interrupt him, humming to communicate that you don’t believe him.

“Okay, I asked her,” he admits, sliding closer to you. “I went to the restaurant, looked at the cameras. I assume you somehow convinced the guy that you were a date or someone personally invested in the case?”

You shift, uncomfortable with how well he knows you. “The first one,” you mumble.

Captain Wagner nods. “I put his picture through facial recognition, found some arrest records that put him, your informant, and Sinquerra in the same place at the same time.”

“You could’ve asked me what I was doing,” you point out. “You had two weeks.”

“You didn’t tell me he hurt you, why would you have told me his name?” he challenges. “Would you have even believed me?”

You scoff, failing to convince yourself that you aren’t getting cold yet. Captain Wagner’s face softens like he knows.

“You did all of this for Morgan,” you muse. “Why?”

“Are you serious?” he asks.

“I asked for something once.”

“You did.”

He offers his hand, and this time, you accept his offer. When you move away from the box behind you, your knee pressed to his leg, he drapes his blazer over your shoulders. He pulls you closer, his hand on your back, his thumb brushing arcs between your shoulder blades. This close, you can feel his warmth, smell his cologne. It’s all familiar, comforting.

“Why aren’t you answering my questions?” you press.

“Because I thought you knew. I thought you could see that all of this… If you can’t see it, I don’t know how to tell you.”

Pushing against him, you attempt to put space between you again. Captain Wagner only tightens his grip on you, dropping his chin to meet your eyes.

“You don’t want to explain it, fine,” you murmur. “Then tell me why you smell like Dior.”

“Because someone very important to me gave it to me once. It helps me remember,” he answers.

You inhale deeply, looking down at his jacket around you. “You’ve sacrificed a lot for Morgan,” you point out. “Let’s focus on her.”

“We’re not talking about Morgan.”

“I wanted to hate you when you showed up as captain,” you confess. “After what you did to me, I tried to forget about you. But then you showed up and despite taking a job that Soto should have gotten, you did something nice for Morgan. It was hard to keep everything in perspective. Now that you’ve betrayed me again and nearly gotten me killed, I think I can remember in the future. Assuming, of course, that we don’t die in this freezer.”

“I didn’t mean to betray you,” he replies carefully. “You asked me for something — I was going to use my family reputation to get something and for the first time in my life, I was happy to do it. I would have done anything to keep you close. But my dad went behind my back and took the opportunity away from me.”

You lift your head, taking him in in the dim light of the freezer. “He did what?”

“He got my sergeant’s exam moved up, found a squad that needed a sergeant right away. He- he took me from you, and I will never forgive him for that.”

Your breath mingles in the proximity, visible as the air around you continues cooling. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Captain Wagner brushes his thumb over your temple, smiling softly. “I couldn’t. Not if I wanted to stay close.” You tip your head, and he exhales. “I pulled some strings, kept an eye on you from a distance. I’ve followed your career; seen the progress you’ve made since the academy. You’re an even better cop than I anticipated you would be.”

“Okay,” you sigh, raising your hand to hold his forearm. “So, you did all of that for me. Why help Morgan now?”

“For you,” he answers. “It’s all been for you.”

“Did you… did you get me promoted to detective?”

You don’t have time to fear the answer before he promises, “No. All of your accomplishments have been your own. I offered assistance where I could, rediverting resources, getting you backup in a pinch. I needed to know you were okay and it was the only way I could think to do it.”

“I thought I was alone.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

You nod, clutching his sleeve. “If your dad hadn’t… would we-”

“Yes,” he interrupts. “I would have been at your side, done everything you ever asked, would have been cheering even louder at your academy graduation.”

“Nick,” you breathe out, your eyes widening in surprise. “You were there?”

“I was everywhere I could be, lying to myself that it was close enough.”

Your breath catches when his thumb drags beneath your bottom lip.

“Uh, we shouldn’t,” you begin. “You’re my cap-”

“Nick,” he reminds you, looking at your lips rather than your face. “Say it again.”

He uses his jacket to tug you closer, breathing deeply until you whisper his name. His lips meet yours, purposeful and unhurried, like he’s planned this in the years you’ve spent apart.

Raising your hand to his jaw, you move closer to Nick Wagner. He’s not your captain now, not the man who broke his promise to get you assigned to his station after the police academy, he’s just the man who’s occupied your thoughts and is now both responsible for you being trapped in a freezer and making it an incredibly rewarding experience. Nick says your name as you rise to your knees, leaning into him. He doesn’t say anything else, holding your hips to keep you close.

Losing yourself in him, you only realize the door opens because of the light that comes in. You fall back away from Nick, pressing the back of your hand to your mouth and squinting to see Daphne, who is pretending she didn’t see anything.

“Uh, should I close the door?” she asks.

Nick presses up to stand, then takes your hand and pulls you to your feet. He straightens his jacket on you and sighs.

“Detective Forrester, would you prefer I bribe you or should I beg?” Nick inquires, pinching the hem of his jacket by your side.

“Just to be clear,” Daphne replies, “I’m not here alone.”

“And I don’t respond well to bribes or begging,” Morgan adds as she steps into view.

“I’ll watch the nature documentaries with Elliot for a month,” you offer.

“Kidding,” she replies, pointing at you. “Sold!”

“Karadec and Oz have two shooters in custody,” Daphne tells you.

“Good work,” Nick applauds. He drops his head toward your ear to ask, “A month? What am I supposed to do?”

Patting his shoulder, you say, “I’m sure you can figure something out.”

“They’re getting all the credit,” you sigh, watching Morgan and Karadec at Soto’s side. “I found the page from the case report that solved it, but my name wasn’t on it. That’s your fault, by the way.”

“I think I can shoulder that,” Nick replies, his eyes forward.

You hum, glancing at him from the side of your eye. “You’re wearing black,” you muse. “You’ve been wearing it a lot, actually.”

“Someone told me I looked good in it once,” he answers.

You turn toward him, smiling when he meets your eyes. Even when you look back to the press conference before you, your hand is in Nick’s. When the wrath came, you found that someone did miss you, despite it all.

“Your dad just walked in,” you warn.

Nick’s hand isn't in his pocket today. His grip tightens around your fingers, his smile widening when you laugh.

“All for you,” he hums.

[popcornpoppypop]

Get Used To It Part 5: Shaking Hands Still Hold The World Together

Summary: The baby is on the way and Jack is not at all freaking out. He's totally fine. Not sweating at all.

Warnings: labor, childbirth, birth gone wrong (no death), c-section

A/N: The final part! I liked this little series; it made me all warm and happy. I hope you all enjoyed it!

Rose was too pregnant. Like, can’t get off the couch without help, bending over isn’t an option, can’t remember the last time she saw her feet, pregnant. Her due date is in one day. She wanted this kid out two weeks ago.

Jack is panicking. Quietly.

He couldn’t legally take any paternity leave, so he was working until Rose went into labor. Then he’d cash in all his PTO. He had plenty.

He had a rotating schedule of people to keep her company (watch her like a ticking time bomb) while he was at work. Dana volunteered the most, she slept over a couple of times.

“I am an adult, Jack! I don’t need a babysitter!” Rose growled.

“I know you don’t! It’s for me!” Jack groaned.

Dana and Benji were hanging out with her tonight. They kept Jack up to date on everything. He used to despise his phone. Thought it was a stupid invention. He couldn’t put it down now. He and Shen were finishing up a bar fight patient when his phone went off. It was Dana. His hands started shaking.

“Yeah?” He answered.

“Jack, take a breath.” Dana demanded.

“What is it?” Jack’s heart was beating like a drum.

“She’s been having consistent contractions for the last few hours.”

“I’m on my way-”

“No! Don’t do that. We’re meeting you there. Her OB has privileges at PTMC and they have it all set up. Call Robby, get him to cover you. We’ve got your girls.” Dana tried to keep him calm, knowing there was no way in hell that was happening.

“Fine. Come through the ED.”

“We will. Breathe.” Dana hung up the phone.

Jack dialed Robby, his hands shaking more, sweat beading on his forehead. He can’t be this nervous.

“What?” Robby’s sleep-addled voice rasped.

“Rose is in labor. You need to come cover me.” Jack’s voice was strained as he tried to keep his emotions in check.

“Right. Okay. I’ll be there in fifteen.”

“Be here in ten.” Jack hung up the phone.

Jack did his best to take care of his notes, finish up with his patients. He was never so happy to see Robby as he was tonight. He ran up to him, wrapping him in a quick hug.

“I guess this is my official notice that I’m putting in for my PTO.” Jack huffed.

“Can’t argue with that.” Robby chuckled. He looked Jack up and down, taking in his clearly rattled visage. “You need to chill.”

“I’m fine.” Jack’s rigid body saying the contrary.

“Brother, you gotta be the calm one. You need to be her stone tonight. You can’t be…this.” Robby chuckled.

“I know! Fuck!” Jack ran his hands through his curls.

“Take a breath. You’re a good doctor. So is she. I’m sure her OB is too. If you’re really doubting things, call me. Nothing is going to happen to them. You have to believe that or she won’t. That will just make things harder.” Robby patted him on the back.

“When did you get so wise?” Jack chuckled.

“Always have been, you just never noticed.”

The triage doors opened and Dana and Benji wheeled Rose in. She looked calm and collected, her cheeks were flushed but other than that you wouldn’t know she was in labor. Jack ran over to them.

“Hey, how are you?” He asked, taking her hand.

“Oh, ya know, just peachy. My uterus and cervix are fighting each other and a bowling ball is trying to escape my insides. Thrilled.” She huffed.

“Stupid question?”

“Very.” Rose smiled up at him.

“Let’s get you upstairs, sweetheart.” Dana said.

“Jack, here.” Benji handed him a tissue. “You got the ‘first time dad sweats’.” He laughed.

“Shit.” Jack dabbed at his forehead.

“Don’t worry about it. I sweat through my shirt with the first one.” Benji slapped him on the back.

They all piled into the elevator. The energy was nervous and electric. It could power the whole of Pittsburgh for at least an hour. When they exited the elevator, Benji pulled Jack aside.

“Just some advice, real quick.” He cleared his throat. “You’re going to get into your head, and it’ll probably be worse for you, but try and be present. Remember this is about her. Just do as she says. Speak up for her when she can’t. Remember everything is your fault, even if you weren’t the one to actually get her pregnant.” Benji laughed. Jack hung on every word.

“Right. Okay. Be present. It’s my fault. Got it.” Jack nodded.

“Just be kind to her. It’s not hard. She’s scared, even if they won’t say it out loud.” Benji smiled to himself, the memory of his children’s births playing in his head.

“Thank you.” Jack nodded.

“Hey! You two quit jaw-jacking! I got a woman in labor who wants to get in her room.” Dana barked.

“Everything is my fault.” Jack nodded as he ran off.

“I’ll be out here!” Benji waved them off.

The L&D nurses had arranged it so Rose got the nicest room on the ward. It was huge, with big windows and a tub in the corner. Rose had floated up to L&D a few times to cover and quickly made friends with the entire department.

“Hi, Rose!” Dr. Malone walked.

“Hi, how are you?” Rose panted as she paced back and forth.

“I think that’s my question.” Malone laughed. “I’ll be taking care of you until Dr. Jane gets here. Are you alright with that?”

“Sounds great. When do I get the epidural?” Rose asked.

“I’ll put in the order.” Dr. Malone chuckled. “First, I’ll do a quick exam. If you’ll hop on the bed for me.” She grabbed her gloves as Rose got herself as comfortable as she could.

“I didn’t think I could get more uncomfortable, but this bed might be my mortal enemy.” Rose groaned.

“Dr. Abbot, do you want to step outside while we do our pelvic?” Dr. Malone asked.

“He stays. He stays with me. I want him on my file as my emergency contact. I put in the paperwork a while ago, he’s in your system. He has decision-making privileges. ” Rose sat up, suddenly very anxious at Jack leaving.

“It’s okay. Relax, she didn’t know. I’m not going anywhere.” Jack grabbed her hand.

“Understood. I won’t question it again.” Dr. Malone nodded. “Deep breaths for me, Rose. I’ll be as quick as I can.”

“I’ve never wished I was a man until today.” Rose grimaced.

“Great job, Rose. You’re at six centimeters. A while to go. But your vitals are looking good and baby’s are holding steady. I trust you two to keep an eye on things. We’ll give you as much privacy as we can. I’ll let you know when Dr. Jane arrives.” Dr. Malone smiled and left.

Rose rolled out of bed, hoisted to her feet with the help of Jack. She resumed her pacing; her nerves wouldn’t settle.

Jack watched her as he sat on the windowsill. He had calmed down once Dana had left. Something in his body knew that he had to be the calm one, had to make sure she didn’t panic.

“How are you not freaking out?” Rose huffed, her hands kneading the muscles on her lower back.

“Oh, I’m freaking out. I’m just not showing you.” Jack chuckled as he walked up to her and started massaging her back.

“Oh, that’s better.” Rose hummed as she leaned over the end of the bed.

“I’ll do my best to read your mind, but it would be helpful if you let me know when you need something,” Jack said.

“Got it. I forget you aren’t squeamish.” Rose nodded.

“Only with abscesses. Fucking hate those.” Jack cringed.

“Glad childbirth doesn’t make you gag.” Rose chuckled.

“Naw. It’s kind of amazing. I like when we get to do deliveries downstairs. The one time we get to be a part of someone’s best day instead of their worst.” Jack dug his fingers into her muscles absentmindedly.

The hours dragged on. Word spread throughout the hospital. Perlah had snuck her way upstairs to wish her luck and gave her a quick prayer before leaving. Princess had snuck her some chocolates and a few of the good blankets. Jack was there, steady and willing to let her crush any part of his body her hands got hold of. Even when he felt his knuckles crunch in a sickening grind.

“Oh fuck!” Rose cried as she clutched onto Jack’s shoulders.

“Steady breaths. It’s almost over.” Jack hummed, his voice low and calm. He put counterpressure on her hips.

“It’s been forever! I should be further along by now!” Rose groaned.

“Every body is different, you know that. Just let your body do the work.” Jack brushed the sweaty hair from her face.

“Easier said than done.” Rose pushed off him and sat on the edge of the bed. “What if…what if I’m bad at this?” Her hands caressed her belly.

Jack looked at her, taken aback. At no point in her pregnancy had Rose doubted her abilities as a mother. Or at least, she didn’t voice it to Jack. She had seemed so confident as she prepared for the baby.

“Rose. If anyone can do this, it’s you. You’re the kindest, smartest person I know. You take care of everyone without even thinking about it. You can do this.” Jack pulled the stool over so he could sit in front of her. “You love them. That’s the first step. You’re already a great mother.”

“I want you on the birth certificate. I want her to be an Abbot.” Rose sniffled. “You’re her dad, Jack. I knew it that night in the rain. She was always meant to be yours. Ours.” Rose ran her fingers through his curls, cupping his cheek.

“I knew on the bathroom floor.” Jack chuckled, wiping the tears from his eyes.

“I trust you with us.” She smiled and Jack felt his heart explode in his chest.

“I won’t let you down. I promise.” He sat up a little straighter.

“Good. I’ll be…I’ll be furious if you…do. Fuck….” Rose groaned as another contraction took over.

“You’re doing great.” Jack held her hand as she panted.

“J-Jack…something’s wrong….my head…dizzy…” Rose started shaking.

“Deep breaths. You’re okay. I got you.” Jack jumped up, pressing the call button. “Sit back.” He guided her back on the bed. He looked over her vitals, the monitors screaming.

“Dr. Nolan, Dr. Abbot, what-”

“Her pressure is tanking. The baby’s heart rate is dropping. Get Malone!” Jack barked. The nurse nodded and ran out of the room.

“Jack-”

“You’re okay. I’m not letting anything happen. Just focus on breathing.” His voice was steady, even as his hands shook.

The door burst open, and Malone came running with a team of nurses behind her. She started prodding Rose and reading the monitors. She whispered something to one of the nurses. The nurse gave a curt nod and ran out of the room.

“What’s going on!?” Rose growled, furious with no one talking to her.

“Rose, your baby is in distress and your body isn’t taking the labor well anymore. We’ve got to do a C-section to keep you both safe.” Dr. Malone said as she typed on her tablet.

“O-okay. Do what you have to do.” Rose nodded. “Can I stay awake at least?”

“We’ll do our best, but if things escalate, we’ll have to put you out,” Malone said.

“Jack goes on the birth certificate. He gets to make the call.” Rose let the tears fall down her cheeks.

“Stop it, Rose.” Jack begged.

“Please, just for peace of mind. Just, please.” Rose held onto his hand like it might be the last time.

“He’s down as your proxy. He’ll be the father. We’ve got you, Rose.” Dr. Malone promised as she rushed out of the room.

“Let’s get you ready.” One of the nurses said.

“Dr. Abbot, here.” Another nurse pushed OR scrubs at him. “Wouldn’t want you bringing ER germs in the OR. Go get changed. We’ve got her.”

“Right. Okay. Thanks.” Jack sighed, looking at the blue scrubs. “You’ll be okay for a second?”

“Y-yeah. Go get changed.” Rose pushed him away.

It was all a blur. They were wheeling her into an OR and pushing Jack into a scrub room to put on shoe covers and a cap. They gave him instructions he didn’t hear. He had just enough time to send a quick text off to Dana and Robby before they were pushing him into the bright room. Rose was splayed out on the table, her hair pulled into a cap, an oxygen cannula under her nose. A nurse shoved Jack onto the stool next to her head.

“Hey, Rose. You doing okay?” He asked, his hand on her forehead, desperate for his voice to stay firm.

“Oh, ya know. Just getting my abdomen ripped open. No big deal.” She forced a smile.

“Stupid question?”

“Just a little.”

“You’re going to be okay, she’s going to be okay,” Jack spoke the words like a prayer.

“If…if it goes sideways-”

“Don’t. Don’t do that. Please.” Jack hung his head.

“Jack, she’s yours.” Rose smiled up at him.  He was going to beg her to just keep smiling like that for him forever when Malone interrupted.

“Alright, we’re going to get started. You’ll feel a lot of pressure and tugging. If it’s painful, tell us. Okay, Rose?” Dr. Malone’s voice bellowed.

“Okay.” Rose sighed.

“I’m right here. Not going anywhere.” Jack held her hand.

“God, it feels so weird.” She gave a misty chuckle.

“I bet. Never had anyone dig around my insides before.” Jack tried to joke.

“Pressure is dropping, Dr. Malone.” The anesthesiologist said.

“Push the Phenylephrine. Almost there, Rose.” Malone said.

“Hey, what outfit did you put in the bag? To take her home in?” Jack tried to distract Rose.

“I-I…the purple one.” Rose’s voice shook, tears brimming.

“The one with dinosaurs on it?” Jack traced his thumb along her cheek.

“Yeah. But I couldn’t decide. So I-”

“Baby will be out in just a second, Rose,” Malone shouted.

“I brought the polka dot one too. We’ll know which one when we see her.” Rose cried.

“Yeah. She’ll tell us. With your genetics, she’ll be opinionated for sure.” Jack smiled.

“Here’s baby girl Abbot!” Malone said as the room was filled with the cries of a very perturbed baby. Jack’s heart stopped at the sound. Rose didn’t stop the silent tears. Their eyes were wide as the emotions hit them with full force.

“You did so good, baby.” Jack kissed her forehead.

“She’s okay?” Rose sniffled.

“Baby girl is perfect, Rose. Eight pounds, four ounces. Big, strong girl.” One of the nurses smiled through her mask.

“I want to see her. Please.” Rose begged.

“We’ll bring her over. Dad, you want to get her for Mom?” The nurse put a hand on Jack’s shoulder. His whole body felt like it weighed nothing, the feeling of being called a dad for the first time made him feel like he could fly, and like he was going to shit himself at the same time.

“Yeah. Yes.” He nodded as he got up and went over to the bassinet. The pink, screaming little girl was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. She was so angry and loud, and it was the greatest sight Jack had ever borne witness to.

“She’s feisty. She’s already fighting the swaddle.” The nurse chuckled as she wrapped the baby in the blanket. She smiled as she handed the baby to Jack. He held her close to his chest as she cried.

“Hi, sweet girl.” He cried. “Jesus, she’s perfect.” He mumbled. “Let’s go see Mom.” Jack walked slowly back over to Rose. His legs felt like jelly.

“Jack?”

“Here she is.” Jack smiled as he put the baby on Rose’s chest.

“Hi, baby. Oh my god.” She sobbed.

“She’s amazing.” Jack beamed down at his girls.

“I love her so much!” Rose laughed through her tears.

“We’re almost done, Rose. How you holding up?” Dr. Malone asked.

“I’m great.” Rose smiled.

“Good to hear.” Dr. Malone laughed.

“Alright, Mom and Dad, we’ll take her to the nursery for a bit. Get her cleaned up. Once you're settled in your room, we’ll bring her back down.” A nurse came over and gently took the baby from Rose’s chest. Jack had a knee-jerk flash of anger at the poor woman. He brushed it off; she was just doing her job.

“I saw that.” Rose smiled.

“What?” Jack looked at her confused.

“You wanted to snap at that nurse.” Rose chuckled. “Kinda hot.”

“That’s my baby. I feel protective of you both right now.” Jack huffed.

“Dr. Abbot, I just wanted to let you know that you two have visitors waiting in the waiting room. When you’re ready.” A nurse informed them.

“I’ll go see them once you’re settled.” Jack nodded to Rose.

“Just a few more sutures and you’ll be all set. Vitals are looking much better. No hemorrhage. Should be an easy recovery.” Dr. Malone said.

“Is it bad that I’m kind of glad that art teacher turned doctor didn’t do this?” Jack chuckled.

“She was a good doctor! Kind of crazy she just never showed.” Rose said.

“Malone is better.” Jack said.

“I’ll take the compliment.” Dr. Malone laughed.

Jack refused to leave Rose’s side as they brought her into her room. She had to keep telling him that she was fine. She ordered him to go update Robby and Dana. Jack reluctantly left.

When he entered the waiting room, Robby, Dana and Benji were all sitting and wringing their hands. Jack stumbled over to them, his body still not fully functional.

“She’s okay. They’re both okay.” He panted.

“They’re okay? Thank god.” Dana sighed in relief.

“It was a girl, right? She have a name?” Robby asked.

“We haven’t gotten that far.” Jack said, suddenly realizing they had to nail that one down.

“You have time. You’ll know once you spend some time with her.” Benji gave his shoulder a pat.

“We?” Dana smirked.

“I’m on the birth certificate. She’s mine. I have a daughter.” Jack couldn’t stop the tears; he rubbed at his eyes.

“Congrats, brother.” Robby chuckled as he squeezed Jack’s shoulder.

“She’s so fucking perfect. They both are.” Jack took a deep breath.

“That feeling never goes away, just so you know.” Benji chuckled.

“Good.” Jack smiled.

“You took good care of them. You stepped up. You’re already the best dad, Jack.” Dana pulled him into a tight hug. “Go take care of your girls. We’ll come back tomorrow for a visit.”

“Thanks. Thank you for keeping me on my feet.” Jack nodded before he ran off.

When he got back to the room, the lights were low. The city lights gently illuminated Rose as she rocked the baby, cooing over her. Jack was so filled with love and pride that he could never articulate it. He walked over and sat in the chair next to her bed.

“She’s so great. I’m addicted.” Rose hummed.

“Yeah, I feel the same way.” Jack laughed. “She needs a name.”

“Yeah, I was just thinking about that,” Rose said. “Any suggestions? We never could agree.”

“I have no clue. Nothing feels good enough.” Jack leaned on the bed railing.

“What about Cora? If I remember correctly, it means beloved in French. Or something close to that.” Rose said. “Cora.” Jack played with the feel of it. “I think it fits. Cora Abbot.” His voice started to shake.

“You have no idea how loved you are, Cora.” Rose kissed the baby’s head.

If Jack was protective before, he was practically a guard dog now that Rose and Cora were home. Jack had made it very clear that Rose was to stay in bed as much as possible. He was insistent on doing as much as he could. He couldn’t do all the feedings, but he tried. The baby spent most of her time in the bedside crib.

Jack was asleep, enjoying the silence until he realized how rested he felt. He sprang up and looked over to find Rose and the baby gone. There was a moment of panic before he heard her voice from across the hall. She was singing something. Jack grabbed his crutches and made his way to the nursery. The sight he was met with almost brought him to his knees.

Rose was sitting on the window bench, drenched in the rays of the sunrise, rocking Cora. She was singing a lullaby to her, Cora gurgling and waving her arms around in contentment.

“You shouldn’t be out of bed.” Jack cleared his throat. Rose jumped a little.

“Cora, your dad is a control freak.” Rose giggled to the baby. “She was fussy and you needed to sleep. I’m fine.”

“That’s a hell of a sight.” Jack hummed.

“What?” Rose looked at him, confused.

“You, rocking my baby on the window bench.” Jack’s voice cracked.

“Come sit with us.” Rose prompted. Jack made his way to sit next to them.

“She looks so much like you.” Jack smiled.

“I’d be pissed if she looked like him, I did all the work.” Rose smirked.

“She knew.” Jack nodded, running his hand across Cora’s soft curls.

“Take her for me. My arm is falling asleep.” Rose passed the baby over to him. Jack cradled her close to his chest, resting her head near his collarbone so he could smell that newborn smell.

“I’m going to be devastated when she doesn’t smell like this anymore,” Jack grumbled.

“Wow.” Rose sat back.

“What?” Jack rocked himself and the baby.

“You, holding my baby on the window bench.” Rose smiled up at him.

Epilogue

Jack opened the door as quietly as he could. It was still early enough that his girls would still be asleep. He’d be damned if he woke anyone up. He creaked the door closed behind him as his body started to sag, the relief of being home after a tough shift taking over.

He set his bag down and went to the kitchen, making a fresh pot of coffee. He was toying with the idea of making French toast when he heard a sound coming from the living room. When he got to the doorway, he couldn’t help but laugh.

Cora was sitting on the couch, with all her stuffed toys next to her, the TV playing The Goofy Movie. Her stuffed rabbit, the one Jack had bought six years ago, was in her lap.

“Hey,” Jack whispered to get her attention. Cora jumped a little, but a wide grin spread across her face at the sight of him.

“Papa!” She matched his whisper, albeit with a little more enthusiasm.

“What are you doing up?” He came over and sat on the edge of the couch, kissing her forehead.

“Don’t know. Didn’t want to sleep anymore. I wanted to watch a movie. Momma’s still sleepin’.” She shrugged.

“You’re sneaky.” Jack chuckled.

“Momma says I get it from you.” She smiled up at him.

“Yeah, probably.” Jack nodded. “Don’t cause too much trouble. I might make you breakfast.” Jack stood with a groan.

“French toast?” Cora somehow made her eyes even bigger, and Jack couldn’t say no when she did.

“I think I can make that happen.” He ruffled her hair as he left the room.

He walked into the bedroom, Rose was pulling a full starfish. Her limbs were hanging off either side of the bed, the blanket haphazardly covering her. There was a little bit of drool pooling on the pillow, but Jack wouldn’t ever say anything.

He pulled his scrubs off, tossing on some comfortable clothes before climbing into the bed and pulling her into his chest. His hands glided along her soft skin. He buried his nose in her hair, breathing in the sweet scent of her shampoo.

“Mmm…too early,” Rose grumbled.

“Cora has officially figured out the child locks on the door handles.” Jack hummed against her skin.

“What?” Rose turned her head towards him.

“She was sitting on the couch with all her stuffies, watching a movie when I got home.” Jack chuckled.

“Shit.” Rose sighed as she stretched.

“She’s your child for sure.” He laughed. “She checked on you before she went out there.”

“How’d she turn the TV on?” Rose rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

“She’s too damn smart for her own good.” Jack kissed her neck.

“I guess we’ll have to talk to her about rules or something.” Rose moved to get up but Jack pulled her back down.

“You smell good.” He hummed as he kissed her.

“You smell like a hospital.” Rose giggled. “We shouldn’t leave a six-year-old to her own devices.”

“She’s watching a movie. She’s fine.” Jack moved so his body was on top of hers.

“Which one?” Rose ran her fingers through his curls as he trailed kisses down her body.

“The Goofy one that you like.” He nipped at her hip bone.

“Well, she has taste at least.” Rose sighed as she leaned into Jack’s touch.

“Coffee should be ready.” Jack kissed the inside of her thigh.

“Let it burn.” Rose moaned. Jack laughed as he kissed up her thigh, his fingers digging into her hip.

“Papa!” Cora’s voice broke the moment. Jack fell forward, head on Rose’s stomach, in frustration.

“Oh, that girl has your sense of timing,” Rose grumbled as she pushed Jack off and got up.

“I think it’s time we have a serious talk about letting momma and papa have alone time. Papa is about to lose his mind if he doesn’t get to wreck momma soon.” Jack huffed as he got up.

“Oh yeah. That’s a great way to phrase that.” Rose laughed.

“I’ll go start breakfast.” Jack sighed, dejected.

“French toast?”

“You two and your need for carbs.” Jack huffed. Jack made his way to the living room.

“Papa, I’m hungry.” Cora whined.

“Me too, kid.” Jack grumbled. “Let’s make French toast for you and Momma.” He bent over and picked her up.

“I can have berries?” Cora laid her head on his shoulder.

“Whatever you want, baby.” Jack kissed her forehead.

Jack pulled the stool over and plopped Cora down on it. She did a little dance on it as she watched him grab all the ingredients.

“Let me crack the eggs!” Cora made grabby hands at the eggs.

“Alright, cool your shorts.” Jack brought the bowl in front of her. He handed her an egg. She carefully cracked the egg into the bowl.

“Did it!” She jumped. She had only gotten a little of the whites on the counter.

“Good job, baby.” Jack smiled as he handed her another egg to crack.

Rose walked in, her pink robe hanging loose. She wrapped her arms around Jack, her hands rubbing up and down his chest.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish.” Jack hummed, leaning his head back to rest on her shoulder.

“I always finish in this house.” Rose giggled in his ear.

“You’re goddamn right.” Jack growled.

“Papa, I messed up.” Cora looked up at him with big, teary eyes and hands covered in egg, the shell everywhere.

“It’s okay, cricket. Accidents happen. Papa will always help you with accidents.” He kissed her forehead as he wiped her hands clean.

Jack had started calling her cricket when she was a few weeks old. She used to rub her legs together and squeak like a cricket. He thought it was the best thing he had ever seen. The name stuck pretty firmly.

“Can Mama take over?” Rose leaned down to kiss Cora’s cheek.

“Yeah, I’m bored,” Cora grunted as she hopped off the stool and ran off to play.

“Don’t be surprised when they diagnose her with your ADHD.” Jack snorted.

“Rude.” Rose scowled at him as she finished making batter. “She gets the poor tolerance for idiots from you.”

“I don’t see that as a problem.” Jack started drowning the bread in the custard.

“Her teachers tell me all the time that she glares at kids when they get an answer wrong.” Rose crossed her arms.

“Someone has to.” Jack tossed the bread on the griddle. “Toughen them up.”

“Oh, please.” Rose laughed.

Jack always tried to soak in these little moments. Making breakfast for his girls was his favorite thing to do. He was never happier than when they were all putzing around the kitchen.

“Cora, come get breakfast.” Jack plated her French toast. Cora came running into the kitchen with a big grin.

“Thank you, Papa!” She took the plate and made her way to the table. They all followed suite.

“I was thinking about going to the movies today. There’s a new animated movie that’s supposed to be good, heard it makes you cry.” Rose said as she helped cut up Cora’s food.

“Your favorite.” Jack snorted. “I’ll go if you let me sleep some.”

“Sounds good.” Rose hummed as she took a bite from her breakfast.

“Mama, you have to help with my project!” Cora said through a mouthful of food.

“Close your mouth. Finish chewing, you know the rules.” Jack scolded her.

“Sorry.” She swallowed. “The family tree has to be ready on Monday. You have to tell me how you and Papa met.” She said as she tried to cut her French toast.

Jack and Rose looked at each other, all color draining from their faces. They knew this day would come, but they thought they could procrastinate a while longer.

“Right. Um…Jack?” Rose turned to him.

“Oh, no! You get to take this one!” He put his hands up.

“Mama! Tell me!” Cora was suddenly too curious.

“Okay.” Rose took a breath. “Mama and Papa used to work the same shift at the hospital. We both worked at night. That’s how we met. It took some time but we found each other.” Rose nodded, hoping that was enough to satisfy the curious child.

“So you had me after you met at the hospital?” Cora cocked her head.

“Well…” Rose couldn’t find the words appropriate for a six year old.

“Cora, sometimes Papa’s aren’t the ones that make the baby. Sometimes Papas or Mamas are the ones that want the baby and step up when there isn’t a Papa or Mama. Does that make sense?” Jack tried to save Rose.

“Like…a baby only has a Mama and no Papa?” They could see the wheels turning in Cora’s little mind.

“Yes.” Jack nodded. “I knew Mama for a long time. We were friends. But your Mama thought she liked another person. She got pregnant and I wanted to be your Papa, so I was. I’m your Papa because I wanted you so much no one else could argue that you weren’t my baby.” Jack’s hand creeped onto Rose’s thigh.

“Mama thought she had picked a good Papa for you, but he wasn’t up to the task. He wasn’t a good guy. Your real Papa is a good guy.” Rose squeezed his hand in hers.

“I’ll write that you worked together. That seems easier.” Cora nodded and ran off to her room.

“Jesus, fuck.” Rose sighed.

“That went well.” Jack chuckled.

“She’ll have questions eventually.” Rose groaned.

“Yeah, but I think we bought ourselves a few more years.” Jack rubbed her back.

“You going to bed?” Rose massaged the back of his neck. He kissed her forearm.

“Yeah. Come with?” Jack raised an eyebrow.

“We won’t get far.” Rose laughed.

“We’ll see. Head up, I’ll take care of the dishes.” Jack said as he picked up the plates.

“You just want to watch my ass.” Rose sauntered away.

“Always!” He called after her.

Jack made his way upstairs. He stopped into Cora’s room. She was on the floor coloring her family tree.

“Cora, will you be a good girl for a little while?” Jack asked.

“I’m always a good girl.” She looked at him confused. Jack couldn’t stop the laugh.

“I know. But can you let me and your Momma have some alone time?” Jack was aware he was now in negotiations with a toddler.

“I guess. But what if I need juice? Or a snack?” Cora huffed.

“You can wait a little for juice and snack. You just had breakfast.” Jack crossed his arms.

“What if I need something else? Or I fall down?” She scowled at him.

Jack groaned as he walked out of the room. He pulled out his phone and hit the call on his contact.

“Jack?” Dana’s voice had a worry to it.

“Come get this kid before I die of blue balls.” Jack whined.

“Oh for god sake! No! Ben-no, don’t!”

“We’ll be there in a few minutes!” Benji’s voice sung into the phone. He was not happy being an empty nester like Dana was.

“You owe me.” Dana huffed as she hung up the phone.

“Cora, Aunt Dana and Uncle Benji are coming over!” Jack mocked excitement.

“Yay! They give me cookies!” She jumped around the room.

“Of course they do.” Jack sighed. “Why don’t you draw them a picture and I’ll go check on your mom?”

“Okay!” Cora happily started drawing again as Jack slipped back into the master bedroom.

“How did hostage negotiations go?” Rose smiled as she laid on the bed.

“Dana is coming to get her.” Jack shrugged.

“Ah, the big guns.” Rose chuckled. Jack laid on top of her, kissing her neck.

“I was desperate.” He growled against her skin.

“My hero.” Rose hummed.

“Whenever you need me, Rose.” Jack looked up at her from between her legs and gave her a wink.

[popcornpoppypop]

Get Used To It Part 4: Hot Coco Soothes The Ache of Male Idiocy

Summary: Rose and Jack finally talk about that kiss. Jack self-sabotages, and Dana picks up the pieces.

Warnings: Pregnancy, talk of vomit(no actual vomiting), angst, fighting, Pain

A/N: told you the angst was coming. I can't help myself! One more chapter to go!

Rose was growing to hate her bed. She had only been on bed rest for two days. Jack refused to let her out of bed. If he could have carried her to the bathroom, he would have. It was starting to piss her off.

She heaved herself out of bed, wrapping up in the plush robe Dana had sent her. She tiptoed down the stairs to the kitchen. The house was quiet, Jack seemed to be asleep still. Rose started making her tea and reveled in the quiet stillness of the morning.

“Why the hell are you down here?” Jack’s voice was booming from the doorway.

“Shit!” Rose jumped. “How are you so fucking quiet?” She hissed.

“Practice.” Jack crossed his arms.

“I’m just making tea. I’m not rock climbing. I can handle it.” Rose sighed.

“Bed rest means resting in bed. This not resting in bed.” Jack grabbed her mug from the shelf and handed it to her.

“It does not mean I have to be chained to the damn bed. I can move, Jack.” She snapped. “I can’t stand sitting there. I’m going to go crazy.”

“It’s just to keep you both safe.” Jack sighed.

“We’re safe. Nothing is going to happen to us in this house.” Rose huffed. “I’m going to sit on the couch, drink my tea and watch a movie. Would you like to take the stick out of your ass and join me?” Rose smirked. Jack watched her for a moment, contemplating the decision, his brows furrowed.

“Fine. But put your feet up.” He grumbled.

Rose beamed as she pranced into the living room, a feeling of accomplishment washing over her. She got comfortable on the couch, propping her feet up. Jack came in, coffee in hand and sat at the other end.

“You look too happy to have gotten your way.” He said, sipping his coffee.

“It’s the small victories.” Rose smiled over at him. She clicked her nails against the mug as Paddington played on the TV. She wasn’t paying attention to the film; her mind was wandering away with her.

“Why the fuck would you let a bear into your house?” Jack huffed at the TV.

“Are we ever going to talk about that night?” Jess blurted out. Jack stilled for a moment, put his coffee down, and turned to face her.

“I had a moment of weakness. I was having a panic attack and I wasn’t thinking. I took advantage of you and your kindness. I shouldn’t have done that.” Jack said, his hands folded in his lap like he was reading a script.

“What the fuck?” Rose snapped; she felt like she had just been slapped. A rage took over her face, a look Jack had never seen before.

“Rose, I’m sorry-”

“Shut the fuck up.” She barked. “Stop spewing whatever rehearsed bullshit this is. I don’t want it. You didn’t take advantage of me. Why would you say that?”

“I compromised our friendship and-”

“Stop talking like that! Stop talking like a therapist! Fuck you, Jack. I meant what I said. I thought you did too.” Rose turned away from him as the tears started to bubble up.

“Rose.” He reached for her, but she flinched away.

“I love you, Jack. I do. If you actually don’t, if you didn’t mean what you said, that’s fine. I can handle it. But don’t lie, not to me. I can’t stand that shit! And if you think you’re protecting me, that’s worse!” Rose felt the emotions swirling like a hurricane in her chest, far above her control.

“I’m broken, Rose. I’ve got too much to deal with. I don’t want to burden you with me when you’re about to have a baby to worry about.” Jack hung his head, unable to meet her eyes.

“Wow. You think so little of me that I can’t handle this? That I’m weak!?”

“That’s not what I-”

“I’m going to stay with Dana for a few days. Maybe you can figure out what you want. I know what I want.” Rose hissed as she stood up.

“Rose, please.” Jack jumped up.

“If I say I can handle it, I mean it. Maybe start meaning the words that come out of your mouth.” She hissed as she stomped upstairs. Jack wanted to run after her. He wanted to grab her and scream how much she meant to him, but he couldn’t bring himself to move. Her footsteps came thundering down the stairs.

“Call your therapist. Tell them how you fucked it all up by being an idiot.” Rose spat as she left, slamming the door.

“Shit!” Jack collapsed onto the couch, his head in his hands.

Rose stood on the porch, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. Her thoughts driving her crazy. She just couldn’t understand any of it.

The door opened to a surprised Dana.

“Rose?”

“C-can I stay her for a few days?” The tears came fast and hard. The sight of the only person, besides Jack, that took care of her, making her walls break down.

“Oh, sweetheart. Get in here.” Dana pulled her into the house, grabbing her bag.

“I’m sorry for dropping in like this. He just…I need some space.” Rose wiped her face.

“Okay, first off, no apologizing. Second, you can always stay here. Let’s get you settled, and you can tell me how he fucked it up.” She said, guiding her to the guestroom.

Rose sat at the kitchen table, a steaming cup of coco in front of her, watching Dana take banana bread out of the oven.

“Mom, I’m going to Sarah’s.” One of her daughters came waltzing in, eyes glued to her phone.

“Are you staying over?” Dana sighed, hand on her hip.

“Yeah. We’ve got a big project for AP chem and we want to take the weekend to work on it.” The girl smiled.

“Sure. Just don’t get into trouble. If you get arrested, don’t call me.” Dana shook her head.

“Rose! Hey, wow you’re like really pregnant.” The girl laughed.

“Hey! That is not how you speak to a pregnant woman!” Dana scolded.

“She’s not wrong, I am really pregnant at this point.” Rose chuckled.

“Sorry. You’re glowing or whatever.” The girl smiled as she walked off.

“Kids these days. You sure you want one? Could’ve just loaned you one of mine.” Dana huffed as she sat across from Rose, putting a slice of banana bread in front of her.

“Dana, I love you so much. I love your baking, but if you don’t get that banana bread out of my face I will paint your kitchen with vomit.” Rose gagged.

“Oh, shit! Sorry, hun. Forgot about your banana thing.” Dana said as she grabbed the slice and put it on the counter. “I couldn’t stand strawberries with both girls. Thought they’d be born hating them. They love them. Still get put off by them, myself.”

“Thank you for letting me stay.” Rose sighed as she sipped her coco.

“Course. You’re always welcome here, you know that.” She smiled, watching the anger and grief fight across Rose’s face. “You want to talk about it?”

“We got home from the hospital and he had this breakdown. Crying about how this should be his baby. How he saw them as his own. But that it hurt that it wasn’t real. I told him it was. That I wanted that too. I was his.” Rose cleared her throat, trying to control her emotions. “He kissed me. Like really kissed me. I mean, I have never been kissed like that in my entire life.”

“Abbot’s got game. Who knew?” Dana chuckled.

“But the next day, he just went back to normal. I tried to bring it up, but he’d change the subject. Today, I had enough. I wanted to talk about it and he says he shouldn’t have said anything. That he “took advantage of my kindness” and compromised our friendship. Said some stupid shit about being a burden to me like I can’t handle it. He spit this rehearsed bullshit at me like a robot. I just couldn’t look at him anymore. I told him I meant what I said and he needs to figure out if he meant what he said.” Rose cried.

“Oh, honey. I’m so sorry.” Dana scooted her chair closer so she could wrap her arms around Rose.

“I don’t understand why he would ruin everything like this.” Rose sobbed.

“Men are idiots, they never know what’s good for them.” Dana rubbed her back.

“I love him Dana. I love him and I don’t know what to do.” Rose buried her face in Dana’s chest like a child.

“You have to make a decision. If he comes back groveling, do you give him a second chance? Right now, just drink your coco, cry and go to sleep.” Dana said.

“What would I do without you?” Rose sighed, sitting up, a sad smile on her face.

“You’d figure it out. But it wouldn’t be as nice.” Dana smiled, wiping the tears from her cheeks.

Once Rose was asleep, Dana made her way to bed herself. Her husband sat in bed reading. Dana let out an exacerbated sigh.

“She okay?” Benji asked.

“Yeah. She’s tough. He won’t be.” Dana whipped out her phone and started texting.

“Lord help him.” Benji laughed to himself as he went back to his book.

Jack was sitting on the couch, head in his hands, when the doorbell went off. A small part of him hoped it was Rose and that she had forgotten her key and wanted to come home. His more logical side knew it wasn’t her.

He opened the door and groaned at the sight before him.

“Dana sent me a very interesting text. ‘If you don’t go over and smack some sense into Abbot, I’ll have to do it and I won’t be so nice. Tell him to grow some balls.’ Which is a hell of a text to get with no context. She let me know that you had lost your goddamn mind.” Robby growled as he pushed into the house, slamming the door behind him.

“Look, brother, I-”

“Don’t. You don’t get to call me that if this is how you’re going to act. I’ve put up with a lot of your shit and you have with me. It’s our weird symbiotic relationship. But this…self-sabotage at the expense of one of the best people we know, I won’t deal with that.” Robby crossed his arms.

“Oh fuck off! I’m saving her from a life of my shit.” Jack said.

“That woman might be the only one who can deal with your shit and wants to. Why would you push her away like this? After finally telling her you love her?”

“She deserves better! She deserves an easy life!” Jack shouted.

“No one is guaranteed an easy life. She deserves the life she wants. She wants it with you, you idiot!”

“I’m broken!”

“So is everyone!”

“I made a mistake thinking I could be just her friend. That she could come into this house and make it feel like a home again and I wouldn’t fall in love. It was stupid. I hurt her and I’ll never forgive myself.”

“Stop punishing yourself for crimes you didn’t commit. Stop making yourself miserable because you’re scared. This isn’t going to end well for you. If you think anyone will be on your side, you got another thing coming.” Robby spat. “Man up. Go apologize. She is stronger than you are giving her credit for.” Robby turned and left.

Jack stood in the hallway feeling like he’d just been hit by a truck.

Rose slept like shit. She was at the point in pregnancy when you don’t really sleep well. But it was more because her mind wouldn’t shut the fuck up. She could smell someone cooking bacon downstairs and decided to give up on sleep.

She walked into the kitchen to find Dana doing the crossword and sipping coffee while her husband cooked breakfast. It was a simple, domestic scene. It was peaceful. She felt herself getting choked up again.

“Morning, Rosey!” Benji smiled once he noticed her presence.

“Morning.” She forced a smile as she sat at the table.

“How you feeling, sweetheart?” Dana put her crossword down.

“Okay.” Rose sighed.

“You up for some bacon and eggs?” Benji asked.

“Please. I feel like I’m never not hungry. A bottomless pit.” Rose huffed.

“Yeah, I remember that. Just wait till you’re breastfeeding. It gets worse.” Dana chuckled.

“Don’t scare the poor girl.” Benji nudged Dana with his hip as he placed a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon in front of Rose.

“You didn’t even ask how she wanted her eggs.” Dana scoffed.

“She’s pregnant! She can only have them fried or scrambled and she looked like a scrambled girl.”

“He’s not wrong.” Rose smiled as she took a bite. “Wow, these are really good eggs.”

“The key is a shit ton of butter.” Benji winked.

“Noted.” Rose nodded as she shoveled the food into her mouth.

“We’re going for our walk soon, you want to come?” Benji asked.

“She’s supposed to be on bed rest, Ben.” Dana scolded.

“She knows her body. Ease up.” Benji sat down next to Dana.

“Thank you for the offer and sticking up for me. But I’m tired. I’ll hang back.” Rose felt warm for a moment. The sound of the doorbell ringing made her jump.

“I’ll get it.” Benji jumped up.

“He’s sweet.” Rose said as she sipped the tea Benji had prepared her.

“Yeah, I like him. I’ll keep him around a while yet.” Dana chuckled.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, man.” Benji’s voice caught both women’s attention.

“Come on, please!” Jack’s voice hit Rose like a truck.

“She’s not feeling great right now. I don’t want you making it worse.” Benji stood his ground. Rose got up and went to the door.

“It’s okay. I’ll talk to him. Thank you, Benji.” Rose put a hand on his shoulder.

“Thank you.” Jack breathed as he moved to walk into the house, but was stopped by Rose’s hand on his chest.

“Nuh uh. You aren’t coming in here to ruin their peace. You want to apologize you do it on the porch in front of god and everyone.” Rose snapped as she stood in the doorway.

“O-okay. Okay.” Jack cleared his throat. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have walked back on my words. I meant them. I really did.”

“Why do it? Why act like you changed your mind?” Rose crossed her arms.

“Honestly? You scare the shit out of me.”

“Fuck you.”

“I mean, in the sense that I feel so much for you, and the last time that happened, I lost everything. Now, I have twice as much to lose. I couldn’t survive it this time.” Jack’s voice cracked.

“What am I supposed to say to that?”

“Nothing. You don’t have to say anything. This is about me groveling on my knees and begging for forgiveness. And If I could get back up, I’d be on my actual knees right now. I’m sorry. I hurt you, I hurt me. I put you in a vulnerable position. I made you think that I wasn’t your safety net. I need you to know that I always was, I’ll always be. I’m sorry.” Jack was out of breath, his chest hurt. Seeing the pain in her eyes, the pain he caused made him want to throw up.

Rose stood silent, contemplating. She wanted to pull him into her and cry into his shoulder and tell him to take her home. But she didn’t want to feel like she was giving in too easy. Her stubbornness and her love for him were at odds. She looked over her shoulder at Dana who shrugged and gave a grimace and a nod.

“You’re talking about this with your therapist.” Rose demanded.

“Yes. I have an appointment this week.”

“I’m not doing this again.”

“Never. I swear. I’m sorry.” Jack breathed a sigh of relief. Rose smiled, but it quickly fell.

“Ow.” She huffed, her hand going to her belly.

“Rose?” Jack rushed forward, his hands on her shoulder.

“Ow, it hurts…” She grimaced.

“Benji, get the keys.” Dana barked as she ran to Rose’s side. “Come on, honey, let’s get you checked out.” She said, wrapping her arm around her waist and guided her to the car. “Jack, get the door.”  He ran over and opened the Van door. They got her settled into her seat and everyone jumped in.

“It’s probably just Braxton-Hicks.” Dana tried to reassure her from the front seat.

“You’ll be okay. She’ll be okay.” Jack rubbed her shoulder.

“Braxton-Hicks, go away. This won’t stop.” Rose said through gritted teeth. “Fuck. What if it’s placental abruption!?”

“Don’t work yourself up. There’s an easy explanation. Focus on nice, deep breaths.” Jack did his best to keep them all calm.

The van screeched into the ambulance bay. Jack and Dana helped Rose out of the car. Thankfully, Ahmad saw them pull up and alerted the nurses. Perlah came rushing over with a wheelchair.

“What’s going on?” Robby came running over.

“Sudden onset of lower abdominal pain.” Rose gritted out. “No breaks, steady and consistent.”

“Right. Let’s get her into a room, please, and page OB. Grab me the ultrasound.” Robby barked out orders as they wheeled Rose into a room. “Has your water broken?”

“Not that I know of.” Rose groaned.

“Alright. Let’s get you in a gown and I’ll do a quick ultrasound until OB can get down here.” Robby said. “Perlah, give her a hand?”

“You got it.” Perlah nodded.

“Jack and I will be outside.” Robby nodded.

“What?” Jack snapped.

“Go, Jack. We’ve got her.” Dana pushed him.  Jack stumbled out of the room with Robby.

“Why the fuck did you pull me out of there?” Jack growled.

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because she probably doesn’t want this to be the first time you see her naked. Maybe I wanted to give her a little dignity.” Robby huffed.

“Fine. Fair point.” Jack ran a hand through his hair.

“Just take a breath. We’re going to help them. She needs you to be steady, you can’t panic right now.” Robby said.

“You’re right. I got it.” Jack took a deep breath.

“She’s ready, when you are.” Perlah popped her head out.

“Great. Perfect timing.” Robby said as a nurse rolled the ultrasound over to him. Jack rushed back into the room. Rose had a sheen of sweat on her forehead as she tried to focus on her breathing.

“It faded away for a minute. But it came back.” She said, her voice shaking.

“Okay. Probably just practice contractions. No panicking yet, everyone.” He addressed the room. “Let’s have a look.” He put the probe to Rose’s belly and started to scan.

“She’s going to be okay.” Jack took Rose’s hand.

“She has a nice heartbeat. Anatomy looks good.” Robby hummed as he scanned. “I’m not seeing any placental abnormalities. Amniotic fluid levels look good to me. I think you’re just having some very intense Braxton-hicks contractions.” Robby said.

“You’re sure? It felt too long for that.” Rose felt her hands shaking.

“I’m confident. But we’ll have the OB take a look to be safe, check dilation. They can be long in some cases. If you’re dehydrated, it can make them worse.” Robby noted. “Just try and relax, we’ll get you a bottle of water and wait for the OB.”

“Okay.” Rose sighed, her head falling back against the bed.

“I’m going to go find Benji. Make sure he isn’t hyperventilating somewhere.” Dana smiled down at her.

“Tell him he’s got a future in ambulance driving if he wants it.” Rose smirked. Dana laughed as she left.

“Here ya go, hun.” Perlah handed her a water bottle. “OB should be down in a few minutes. Hit the call button if you need anything.” She smiled and walked out.

“Sorry, I panicked everyone for no reason.” Rose sat up in bed.

“Nothing to apologize for. Any pain during pregnancy needs to be checked out.” Jack nodded.

“You were scared.” Rose looked up at him.

“Fucking terrified.” Jack nodded.

“You hid it well. Good job.” Rose let a smile tug at her lips.

“I’ve been in a few scary situations in my time.” Jack shrugged, looking down at her with complete adoration.

“Water is helping. I guess we should have tried that before rushing in.” Rose sipped her water.

“You’ll come home tonight, right?” Jack couldn’t wonder anymore, it was eating at him.

“Buy a girl a drink first.” Rose chuckled.

“I can’t sleep without you in the house.” He hung his head. “I was so worried about you. I knew Dana would call if anything happened. But she can’t read you like I can. I hated that you were alone and upset because of me.” Jack said.

“Jack, you beautiful idiot.” Rose sighed, reaching up to cup his cheek. “I’m coming home. Don’t put us in that situation ever again.”

“Never.” He leaned into her touch.

[popcornpoppypop]

Get Used To It Part 3: Sugar and Crying And Everything Is Fine

Summary: When Rose and the baby are in danger, Jack let's his guard down. How will she react?

Warnings: violent patient, blood, vomit, medical inaccuracies.

They sat in the sterile waiting room. Rose was flipping through one of the magazines from the side table as they waited. Jack was scrolling through an online baby store, trying to find something for the baby shower that didn’t feel like a coworker bought it. Something personal.

“Dr. Nolan?” A nurse called out.

“Coming.” Rose smiled as she got up, her hips protesting the action. Jack grabbed her bag and followed behind her.

“Have a seat. The phlebotomist will be in soon.” The nurse smiled and walked out of the room.

“I'd better not throw up. I swear I’ll have a full breakdown.” Rose huffed.

“I told you to take a Zofran before we came.” Jack crossed his arms.

“What if it messes with the results?” Rose hissed.

“It wouldn’t.”

“When did you become an expert on gestational diabetes testing?”

“Few weeks ago.” Jack cocked an eyebrow. There was a soft knock, and a young girl who looked fresh out of school came in.

“Hi! I’m Jenny. I’m going to take your blood today. We’ll do the full panel and then also your baseline blood sugar.” She smiled.

“Sounds good.” Rose propped her arm up for the girl.

“Do you have any questions?” Jenny asked.

“Nope. I’m a doctor, I know the important stuff.” Rose said.

“Oh. A doctor. Right. Sorry, I didn’t notice that on your chart.” Jenny started to get nervous.

“So, you didn’t read her chart.” Jack snapped.

“Hey, how about we don’t make the person about to stab me with a needle nervous?” Rose shot him a look.

“I’m fine. It’s fine.” The girl gave a nervous smile.

“You got this. Don’t worry.” Rose coached. Jenny prepped Rose’s arm and started trying to get blood. No flashback. She adjusted, nothing. Her hands were visibly shaking.

“Maybe I should get my supervisor.” Jenny moved to take the needle out but Rose stopped her.

“Relax. Take a breath. You can do this. My veins are a little deeper than most people's. Try to go as parallel as you can.” Rose instructed. She could feel Jack’s nervous energy radiating off him.

“Okay.” Jenny adjusted the needle and finally got a flash.

“There you go. Veins are like horses. They smell fear. You just have to go in confident.” Rose smiled.

“Thank you. Most people just start yelling.” Jenny sighed as she finished up with the blood draw.

“I’ve been there. Everyone has to learn. It’s the only way you can get better.” Rose fiddled with the bandage Jenny had placed. She got her blood sugar checked, was handed the bottle of saccharin liquid and told to sit in the waiting room.

“I can’t believe you walked her through taking your blood.” Jack sighed as he sat next to her.

“Well, you weren’t doing it.” Rose sipped the fluid. “Oh god, that is awful.” She cringed.

“Let me taste it.” Jack nudged her. “I’ve always been curious.” Rose handed him the bottle. He sipped it and gagged.

“Men.” Rose shook her head as she drank it. “I think the key is to drink a good chunk of it, but not chug it. I might vomit if I chug it, but if I’m too slow, the nausea will get to me.”

“Way to strategize.” Jack chuckled.

“Here’s to swimmin’ with bow-legged women.” Rose chuckled as she drank.

“What the fuck did you just say?” Jack looked at her like she was crazy.

“Jaws. Quint says it when he does a shot with Brody. Do not tell me you haven’t seen Jaws!?” Rose looked at him like he was crazy.

“Never got around to it.” Jack shrugged.

“Oh, we are fixing that tonight.” Rose pointed at him.

Rose sipped the liquid down. She was doing well for the most part. She got about halfway when she started gagging.

“Oh man.” She groaned.

“If you throw up, you have to do it again,” Jack warned.

“I know.” Her eyes started watering. “I’m just going to down it. I can’t do this anymore.” She huffed. She tossed her head back and drank the rest of the bottle.

“You did keg stands in college, didn’t you?” Jack chuckled. Rose frantically grabbed her water bottle and started drinking it.

“Yep.” She panted. “Was good at it too.”

After two more blood sugar tests and one more blood draw, they were finally allowed to leave. Rose was so grateful to be away from the smell of antiseptic, a smell that had started to make her queasy. Rather unfortunate given her job.

“You want to grab something to eat?” Jack asked as they walked to the car. He heard the sound of retching and turned to see Rose vomiting into the bushes.

“No!” She whined. Jack pulled her hair away from her face as she gagged.

It was finally Jack’s day off. He had planned to sleep and do nothing else. He was doing just that when his phone buzzed. He tried to ignore it and let it go to voicemail. But the damn thing just kept going off. Someone was calling him over and over. He leaned over and saw Robby’s name lighting up the screen.

“I am sleeping!” Jack barked into the phone.

“Jack, you gotta get here, Brother. It’s Rose.” Robby said. Jack’s blood turned to ice as he shot out of bed.

“What happened?” He put the phone on speaker as he scrambled to get his leg situated.

“A patient snapped, hit her and sent her flying to the ground before we could get to them. I’ve got OB on the way down. She’s asking for you.” Robby explained.

“I’m on my way. Just tell her I’m coming.” He hung up as he threw his clothes on.

He came barreling through the ambulance bay doors, looking like a crazed man. His clothes were clearly haphazardly thrown on, his curls were sticking out everywhere, and his eyes were wild.

“Jack!” Robby waved him over.

“Where is she?” He begged.

“She’s getting her OB exam right now. She’s in room 3.” Robby said. Jack moved to go to Room 3 when a hand grabbed him.

“You can’t go bursting in there right now.” Dana snapped.

“Let go.” Jack growled.

“You don’t scare me, Jack Abbot. Knock it off.” She hissed. “She’s in a vulnerable state. The OB is doing a pelvic exam and I’m not letting anyone in there until she gives the go-ahead. Understood?”

“Then you go sit with her! She shouldn’t be in there alone!” Jack shouted.

“Easy! I’m on my way over. Sit down. I’m taking care of our girls. Don’t you doubt me, Abbot.” Dana pushed him into a chair as she walked over to Room 3.

“What happened? How did you let this happen!?” Jack barked at Robby.

“Jack, watch it. The patient showed no signs of aggression. You know I wouldn’t have sent her in there otherwise.” Robby said.

“I should have been there.” Jack shook his head.

“You can’t always be here, Jack. You’ll go crazy.” Robby put his hand on his shoulder.

“Jack, you can come in.” Dana called. Jack burst out of the chair and dashed over to the room. Rose was lying on the bed, her cheeks tear-stained and hands shaking. A bruise was blooming on her right cheek.

“What’s going on?”  Jack rushed to her side.

“Jack, I tried to get away. I-”

“Hey, it’s okay. It wasn’t your fault.” He smoothed the hair from her face. “Dr. Nolan and the baby are okay. Just a little shaken. Nothing is showing up on the ultrasound or exam. I am recommending a few days of bed rest just to be safe. I want her monitoring fetal movement closely. I don’t foresee any complications.” The OB explained.

“Thank you.” Rose smiled. The OB nodded and left.

“You’re sure you’re okay?” Jack asked, looking her over.

“Besides the shiner, I feel okay.” Rose sighed.

“Okay. Good. I’m…I’m going to get them to discharge you. I’ll take you home.” Jack cleared his throat as he left the room.

“Everything okay?” Robby asked.

“Yeah. They’re both fine. She’s on bed rest for a few days. Everything is fine.” Jack shuffled over and fell into the chair, his head in his hands. “Fuck!”

“They’re okay, Jack. Take a breath.” Robby gave his back a pat.

“I fucking love her. Shit! I can’t!” Jack felt like his skin was on fire.

“Tell her. Jack, I think she’d reciprocate.” Robby said.

“Jack, that is your baby. As far as anyone is concerned, that is your child. She hasn’t said anything, but I can read that girl like book. She thinks so too.” Dana told him.

“But it’s not! They aren’t mine! My name is not going on the birth certificate. I won’t get any say.” Jack growled.

“How do you know? Have you talked to her? Maybe she’s putting you on that certificate. If you don’t speak up soon, they’ll slip right through your fingers. Man up. Now, get your girls and go home and take care of them. Put in for a few days off. I don’t want Rose lifting a finger these next couple days.” Dana ordered and walked off.

“She’s scary sometimes.” Robby chuckled.

“I can’t fuck up what we have. I could lose everything. I can’t do that again.” Jack felt his chest tighten, his breathing getting faster.

“Easy, Jack. You aren’t going to lose anyone.” Robby said.

“Jack?” Rose’s voice from behind him startled him so much he flew back in the chair, hitting the desk and falling to the floor. “Shit.” Robby ran over, followed closely by Rose.

“Jack, are you okay?” She helped him to his feet.

“I-I…” He was stuck. He couldn’t get himself to a state of function. He looked at her in her hypnotizing eyes, her hands holding him upright.

“Jack, breathe.” Rose instructed.

“I’m scared…” He whispered, the tears pricking at his eyes.

“We’re okay. Everything is okay.” Rose looked at him, confused.

“Everything is okay.” He mumbled.

“Yeah. Let’s go home.” Rose pulled him along as they left the hospital.

The ride home was silent. Rose drove. Jack’s hands were shaking too much and he was practically catatonic.

When they pulled into the driveway, Jack exploded from the car and into the house. Rose did her best to chase after him. She found him in the nursery window nook, sobbing into the stuffed rabbit he had bought the baby.

“Jack, the baby is okay. You don’t have to panic.” Rose said as she walked into the room.

“I can’t stop it! I love them!” Jack cried.

“I know you do.”

“No! You don’t understand! I love them like they're mine. That baby,” He pointed to her belly. “Should be mine biologically. In my brain, it is. But I don’t get to actually have them. They aren’t mine! You aren’t mine.” He buried his face into the soft fur of the rabbit.

Rose stood stunned at his confession. She was shocked to see him so vulnerable.

“Jack…”

“Don’t. Just…I’ll be fine. I just need a minute. I let my guard down today and I shouldn’t have.” Jack sniffled, turning from her.

Rose walked over to him, tenderly grabbing his hand and putting it on her belly.

“This is your baby. She’s yours.” Rose didn’t try to stop the tears. “I’m yours.”  Jack looked up at her, dumbfounded. For a split second, he thought he had dreamt this moment. He sprang up, pulled Rose close, and kissed her. He kissed her like he was drowning and she was oxygen. Like she was his cure.

[popcornpoppypop]

Get Used To It Part 2: Slip ups and Paint Fumes

Summary: Rose and Jack find out the gender of the baby as they get the nursery ready. Jack's affections are getting harder to hide.

Warnings: Pregnancy, doctors offices, Jack being a sarcastic little shit.

A/N: Just a fluffy little chapter. The angst is lurking don't worry. Be patient with me, my sleep schedule is in the trash right now.

It was too early in the morning. It wasn’t really, only 10 am. But when you work nights, that’s really fucking early. Jack regretted his decision for a split second as his alarm rang out. He climbed out of bed, grabbing his crutches and making his way toward his savior: coffee.

“Morning.” Rose smiled as she stood in the kitchen. “Want some pancakes?”

“Just coffee.” He mumbled as he poured the hot elixir into his thermos.

“You’ll get a stomach ulcer that way.” Rose shook her head as she plated the pancakes.

“A risk worth taking.” Jack sipped the thermos before moving to the kitchen table.

“Eat.” Rose put a plate in front of him. Jack grumbled to himself as he obliged.

“You’re bossy.” He sighed, not wanting to admit the pancakes were good.

“You’re easily manipulated.” She smiled. “You don’t have to go today. I know it’s early. I tried to get later. They usually get me in last.”

“You want me to go still?”

“Yeah.”

“Then I’m going.” He chugged his coffee.

“You’re going to shit yourself.” Rose chuckled.

“Haven’t recently.”

“So, it has happened at some point.”

“I mean yeah. You haven’t shit yourself?”

“I don’t think so.”

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not!”

“Everyone shits themselves at some point. If it hasn’t happened yet, it’s coming.” Jack chuckled.

“Don’t curse me like that. I mean, I’m probably going to shit myself when I give birth.”

“That one doesn’t count. That’s not embarrassing.” Jack scoffed.

“Shitting myself in front of a whole team of people isn’t embarrassing?”

“Not when it’s medical professionals who see it every day and it’s a known part of the process.”

“You’re weird. Let’s go.” Rose sipped her tea and got up.

The exam room was too cold. It was always too cold. Rose sat on the table in her gown, socks still on. Her shoulders shook slightly.

“You okay?” Jack hummed from his stool next to her.

“Just cold.” She shrugged.

“Yeah. They don’t really adjust for the fact you’ll be in a gown.” Jack looked around the room, judging the infographics on the walls.

“Don’t be mean to the OB.” Rose sighed.

“Why would I be mean to your OB?” Jack looked at her confused. They were interrupted by a knock and a woman in her fifties came waltzing in. Her glasses were purple and her greying hair was pinned atop her head with butterfly clips. Her coat that should have been white was Pepto Bismal pink.

“Dr. Nolan! So good to see you in here this morning! Are we excited to see baby today?” She practically sung every word.

“Jesus Christ.” Jack mumbled. Rose nudged him.

“Ready as ever, Dr. Jane.” Rose forced a smile.

“Is this dad?”

“Just the support system.” Jack grunted.

“Oh! How good! It really does take a village! It’s nice to see your village showing up for you! How exciting for you to be a part of Rose’s journey into motherhood! It really is magical!” Dr. Jane started setting up the ultrasound.

“Magic, mediocre sex, same thing I guess.” Jack chuckled.

“I’ll kick you out.” Rose warned.

“Okay! Let’s say hi to baby!” Dr. Jane did a little dance as she moved the ultrasound next to Rose.

Rose laid back and rolled the gown up to her chest, the thin blanket covering her legs not offering much defense against the cold. Dr. Jane squirted the gel onto Rose’s belly. She pushed the probe into Rose’s abdomen and started scanning around.

Jack leaned over to watch the screen, doing his own exam from the images. He barely registered Rose’s grip on his bicep.

“Baby is looking good. Growing at a perfect rate.” Dr. Jane smiled. She pressed a button and the room was filled with the rapid heartbeat. Jack was taken aback. He had heard a fetal heartbeat a thousand times, he wasn’t sure why this one was impacting him so much. His chest tightened with an emotion he couldn’t quite name.

“You okay?” Rose looked over at Jack, his face was stuck somewhere between awe and fear.

“Hmm? Yeah. Yeah, just listening.” He mumbled, his eyes glued to the screen.

“Did you want to find out the gender today?” Dr. Jane asked.

“Yes! Yes. I’ve been too excited to wait.” Rose smiled.

“It’s all very exciting, I don’t blame you! I found out with all my kids.” Dr. Jane smiled. “All five.”

“Holy shit.” Jack whispered. Rose smacked his shoulder.

“Looks like…” Dr. Jane moved the wand. “You got yourself a little girl.”  Rose and Jack stilled looking at the screen. The news washing over them and making their hearts explode with adoration.

“A girl.” Rose whispered.

“I’ll print these out for you. Everything looks great, Rose. Call if you have any concerns. The front desk will set you up for your next appointment. We’ll do the gestational diabetes test in a few weeks. I’d rather get you tested early with your family history.” Dr. Jane handed her the photos.

“Makes sense. Thank you, Dr. Jane.” Rose nodded as she wiped the gel from her belly.

“Of course. See you soon.” The doctor nodded and left.

“Don’t say it.” Rose warned as she handed the pictures to Jack, and then hopped off the exam table to get dressed.

“I wasn’t going to say anything.” Jack turned to face the wall.

“I can feel you wanting to say something.” Rose pulled her pants on.

“I think I did well, considering I had no warning what was going to walk through that door.” Jack snorted.

“You did terribly!” Rose hissed. “You made more than one comment- You can turn around. She probably heard you!” Rose pulled her shirt over her head.

“Warn a man that Miss Frizzle is going to walk through the door before she does! Why the fuck does she have a soccer teams worth of kids? Whose bedding that woman that much!” Jack cackled.

“You’re terrible.” Rose huffed as she grabbed her bag and walked out of the room.

“Who has a pink lab coat?” He whispered as he followed after her.

“She’s the best in Pittsburgh.”

“That can’t possibly be true.”

“Look it up.”

“I hit a nerve.”

“A little. That is the woman I have picked to deliver my child and you can’t stop making fun of her.” Rose growled.

“I’m sorry.” Jack put his hands up in surrender.

“Thank you. Go get the car. I’m going to set up my appointment and I’ll be out.”  Rose sighed.

“Yes Ma’am. Dairy Queen?”

“Obviously.”

They sat at the picnic table, ice cream cones in hand, quietly contemplating the appointment. The warm air makes everything feel lighter. A woman is walking up to the ice cream stand with a little girl in tow. Rose and Jack both watch them. The little girl giggles at her mother and the mother smiles down at her.

“Was that what you wanted- Oh, for God's sake.” Jack chuckled, turning to see Rose crying.

“Sorry! Sorry.” She sniffled and wiped her face.

“Stop apologizing for normal bodily functions.” Jack tossed napkins at her.

“That’s going to be me, I get to actually have that. I didn’t think I would.” Rose cried as she licked her ice cream.

“Yeah. It’s a lot. I’m sure.” Jack cleared his throat.

“Sorry. I’m not being considerate.”

“What do you mean?” Jack looked up at her.

“You didn’t get that. I’m rubbing it in your face.” Rose gave him a look that made his stomach twist. She never had looked at him with pity, but there it was.

“Rose, don’t do that. Don’t pity me, don’t tiptoe around me. I can take it from everyone else. Not from you.” Jack growled.

“Just…let me know when you need me to shut up. I won’t be upset.” Rose sighed.

“Deal. Will you pick a color for the fucking nursery now?” Jack smiled.

“I’ll try. Dana is taking me out to do the baby registry this weekend. I’ll drag her to the paint store. She’ll force me to make a decision.” Rose nodded.

“If anyone can it’s her. Don’t make me paint it pink. Be original, I’m begging you.” Jack finished his ice cream.

“You want to see my pinterest boards?”

“Do I have to?”

“No.”

“Show me.”

The smell of paint filled the house. Oddly, Rose liked it. She chalked it up to another weird pregnancy thing. She walked into the nursery, beers and sandwiches in hand.

“Ya’ll want to take a break. You’ve been at it for a few hours.” She hummed.

“Yes!” Robby and Shen came climbing down from their ladders, sounding like they had just run a marathon.

“Did you carry that up the stairs?” Jack gave Rose a pointed look as he saw the six-pack in one hand and a tray of food in the other.

“No, I teleported up here.” Rose snorted. “I can manage to walk up the stairs, I haven’t gotten to that point yet.”

“Relax, Abbot. She’s a grown woman. I think she can make the decision to walk upstairs.” Shen chuckled. Jack shot him a killer look, John sipped his beer, and walked away.

“You said he was getting protective. I thought you were exaggerating for effect.” Robby chuckled.

“Excuse me for wanting to make sure everyone is being safe.” Jack huffed as he went back to painting.

“He’s sensitive about it.” Rose smirked.

“Hey, why green? I thought you said it was a girl?” Shen asked.

“So it has to be pink? Didn’t peg you for a misogynist, Shen.” Jack barked.

“Whoa! That is not what I meant!” John put his hands up.

“Jack, come on. That’s not fair.” Robby cocked his head to the side.

“I agree.” Rose looked at him, confused.

“Don’t stereotype my ba-…the baby before she’s even born.” Jack cleared his throat. But the words were heard. They hung in the air as everyone stared at him.

“um…green is supposed to help promote sleep.” Rose tried to distract them. “Just trying to set myself up for success. I don’t think it’ll work.”

“Sure. Green makes me sleepy, too.” John laughed.

“Thanks for the lunch.” Robby smiled as he went back to painting.

“You should go back downstairs. Shouldn’t breathe in the chemicals.” Jack said over his shoulder.

“Sure, sure. Holler if you need anything.” Rose hummed as she went back downstairs.

The room was quiet for a moment. John and Robby looked at each other as they absent-mindedly painted.

“Um…we going to talk about the elephant in the room or what?” John asked.

“No elephant.” Jack said.

“Jack. Come on.” Robby stopped painting and turned to him.

“Let it go.” Jack hissed.

“Dude. You need to tell her. The longer you wait, the weirder it gets.” John said.

“Can we just paint the damn room. Please?” Jack barked.

“You should talk to your therapist if you won’t talk to us.” Robby sighed.

Jack kept his head down and focused on the painting. His face was red with embarrassment and anger.

Rose was stirring the chilli in the crockpot. Night had fallen and John and Robby had gone home, despite her invitation to stay for dinner. The nursery was painted, but Jack wouldn’t come downstairs.

“Jack! Come on, dinner’s ready!” Rose shouted up the stairs.

“Not hungry.” Jack’s voice wafted down.

“If you don’t come down here, I’m going up there!” Rose instigated. She heard a groan and his footsteps thudding down the hallway.

“You’re manipulative,” Jack grumbled as he passed her.

“When I need to be.” She smiled.

“Chilli?” Jack sniffed the air as he walked into the kitchen.

“Yeah. You said it was your favorite. Wanted to thank you for painting the nursery.” Rose served him a big bowl of the chilli.

“You didn’t have to.” Jack happily took the bowl and sat at the table to scarf it down.

“Do you ever slow down? You’re not being rushed anymore.” Rose chuckled.

“Some habits are hard to break.” Jack wouldn’t meet her eyes.

“Can I ask you something?” Rose sat across from him, stirring her chilli in her bowl.

“You can just ask. You don’t need permission.” Jack huffed through a mouthful of food.

“It’s personal. I don’t want to push it, if you aren’t in the mood.” Rose sat back, her hands sitting low on her belly.

“Just ask it, Rose.” Jack sighed.

“You said that room was supposed to be a nursery anyway, when you asked me to move in.” Rose bit her lip.

“That’s not a question.” Jack finally looked up at her.

“What did you mean?” Rose asked.

“We bought this house for that nursery. My wife, Sarah…she started crying when she saw the window nook. She said she could see herself sitting there with our baby, rocking them to sleep. Obviously, that never happened.” Jack rubbed at his eyes.

“I’m so sorry, Jack. Today must have been hard.” Rose leaned forward.

“They’re all hard.” He cleared his throat and started eating.

“You can talk to me, I’m here for you. You can tell me anything.” Rose pushed a little further.

“I know. Sometimes I can’t…bear to hear it out loud.” Jack hung his head.

“I’m here, when you’re ready.” Rose smiled that smile that made Jack’s world spin.

[popcornpoppypop]

Get Used To It

Part 1: Mistakes Turned Last Chances Bring Peculiar Saviors

Summary: Rose Nolan and Jack Abbot got along like a house on fire. Neither would actually admit their feelings to the other, but they were fine with being friends. When Rose is left to handle too much on her own, Jack swoops in with a swig of beer and sarcastic quip.

Warnings: medical procedures, canon typical use of blood and guts, vomit, pregnancy, shitty non-abusive ex.

A/N: This has been sitting on my laptop for months and I finally got the spark back! Not sure how many parts this will be. I'm almost finished, so not too many. I've been feeling out of it with my starting nights, so it's nice to feel like me a little bit and be excited to write. Let me know what you think!

“How was that hot date the other night?” Samira leaned on the counter, hovering just above Rose’s computer. Samira was waggling her eyebrows and had a goofy grin on her face.

“Fine. Nothing to write home about.” Rose rolled her eyes. “You should try and go out at some point. Stop living vicariously through me.” She stuck her tongue out.

“Oh come on! That’s all I get?”

“Samira, it wasn’t exciting. The sex was mediocre. I doubt I’ll see him again.” Rose pulled her ID card from the port on the keyboard and clipped it back to her scrub top.

“Dr. Nolan, I would appreciate not hearing about your sex life at all, but at least wait until my coffee is drunk.” Dr. Abbot sighed from his computer station.

“When the hell did you get there? My god.” Rose jumped out of her skin.  “Sorry, Jack.” She giggled.

“Dr. Mohan, for the love of all things holy and not, get your gastro patient out of here.” Dr. Abbot groaned. Samira ran off to tend to her patients.

“What’s got you so grumpy today?” Rose rolled her chair next to him.

“I miss when you could be coworkers with people and no one cared about being friends.” Jack rubbed his eyes.

“You’re such a hermit.” Rose smiled.

“I like my routine.”

“You like closing yourself off.” She cocked an eyebrow.

Jack watched as she sauntered off. His face warm and blushing until the thought of another man touching her turned it to anger. He would keep a respectful distance. She was too good, too kind for him.

Rose came in looking like death warmed over. Her color could only be described as putrid green. She fell into her chair at the Hub with a groan.

“Jesus, Kid. You look like shit.” Dana chuckled as she went over, putting a hand to her forehead. “No fever though. Guess you’re stuck working.” She nudged her shoulder.

“I can’t stop puking.” Rose groaned as she buried her head in her crossed arms on the desk.

“Food poisoning? That mediocre boy bad at cooking too?” Dana didn’t try to keep from smirking.

“Has to be. God! Why do I keep going back to him? Like, there is nothing good there. Maybe I’m bored or something.” Rose shook her head.

“Maybe you’re tired of being alone and are settling for someone you know is easy to keep so you don’t have to put in the effort. That way, if he does leave, you won’t be that upset, but if he stays, then you can coast and be numb.” Jack’s eyes stayed on the computer as he monologued. Dana and Rose looked at him with a mixture of shock, confusion and annoyance.

“What the fuck?” Rose whispered.

“You know I don’t sugarcoat things.” Jack shrugged.

“No one asked you!” She snapped, causing Jack to look up and realize he’d hit a nerve.

“Sorry.” He cleared his throat.

“Write me a script for Zofran and we’ll call it even.” Rose let her head hit the desk.

“Put in the order when you walked in.” Jack stood and left.  Rose watched him walk away, confused by his brand of caring.

“That’s who you should be getting dinner with. He wouldn’t give you food poisoning.” Dana giggled.

“Please. We’re friends. He wouldn’t want to date me, I’m just his favorite senior resident.”

“That man would never talk to anyone else like that. It’s his weird way of flirting. Bluntness. Not to mention, I think the only time I’ve seen him write a script for a resident was when Langdon’s kid bit his arm and Jack jokingly wrote him a script for antibiotics and ordered the rabies shots.” Dana chuckled as she put her glasses on.

“That was funny.” Rose nodded. “Until he says something, we’re friends and I’m not going to fuck it up.” Rose stated.

“Rose, I need help with an abscess, I’m worried it may need surgery.” Samira called.

“No rest for the wicked.” Rose grumbled as she went to Samira.

“The placement and the scabbing might make it difficult to drain.” Samira noted. Rose poked and prodded the abscess, the feeling of it squish under her finger made her stomach twist.

“Um, should be fine to drain.” She cleared her throat.

“Okay, thanks for the second opinion.” Samira said before sitting down and cutting an opening in the abscess. Murky, beige, foul-smelling discharge spewed forth from the abscess. Rose had done a million similar procedures and smelled worse in her career. Today, she was running from the bay to the closet toilet.

She barely made it to the toilet in time, her stomach violently rebelling against her. The contents rushing up her throat. She heaved everything into the toilet, barely registering someone taking her hair from her face and rubbing her back.

“Fuck, that’s gross.” She whined as she flushed the toilet. She moved to get up, but hands firm on her shoulders kept her down.

“Take a minute.” Jack said. “You get up too fast and we’ll have to deal with you knocking yourself out on the sink.”

“Isn’t this the ladies room?” Rose questioned, her head falling back against the cool tile.

“Nope. Family bathroom.” Jack watched her for a minute, his hand on her wrist to keep track of her pulse.  “Are you going to make me say it or will you be mature enough to just get it over with?”

“What?”

“Rose. Come on. You know this isn’t food poisoning.” Jack sighed. Rose looked up at him, surprised. The thought had occurred to her, but she had pushed it away. She didn’t want to think about it.

“Maybe it’s my gallbladder.”

“It’s not.”

“Could be.”

“It’s not and you know it. Just take the damn test.” Jack stood up, offering her a hand. “I’ll get you one of the urine tests. No one has to know.” Jack’s normal stern facade was softer.

“Okay.”

“Okay.” Jack gave a curt nod. “Stay here, lock the door behind me.” He walked out like a man on a mission.

Rose climbed to her feet and locked the door before falling back to the floor, her head in her hands.

Her hands started shaking, her forehead sweaty. She didn’t know what to do.

Three knocks tapped at the door.

“It’s me.” Jack’s voice broke her from her thoughts. She got up and unlocked the door. Jack came in and handed her the tests.

“Thanks.” Rose sighed.

“I’ll leave you to it.” Jack cleared his throat.

“Sure. I’ll be out in a minute.” She nodded.

Then she was alone. Alone and desperate to not be. She went through the steps, numb and distant. She stood at the sink, her alarm screaming at her. Her fate waiting.

Jack looked up from his desk as Rose barreled out of the bathroom, heading straight for the stairwell.

“Dana, hold down the fort. Grab Shen if you need something.” Jack murmured as he went to follow.

The cold air made him shiver as he walked out onto the roof. Rose stood at the edge, arms crossed and shoulders shaking.

“You should’ve grabbed a jacket at least,” Jack said as he leaned over the bar.

“Wasn’t thinking. Clearly, a pattern I have.” Rose gave a cold chuckle.

“Mistakes happen. No one is perfect.” Jack watched her, trying to read her.

“This is not just a dropped stitch.” She wiped her face.

“I don’t need to give you the speech. But maybe it’s nice to hear out loud. Your choice, whatever it may be, isn’t Amoral. You have support. If you want it.” He shrugged.

“I need a minute alone. I’ll be down in a minute.” Rose cleared her throat, crossing her arms.

“Okay. You can go home if you need. Up to you.” Jack watched her for one more second before leaving.

Of course, Rose finished her shift. She couldn’t go home, not yet. She also couldn’t deal with the questions that would be raised, even if she knew Jack would put a stop to it.

“Dr. Nolan, do you need a ride home?” Jack offered as their shift finally ended.

“No. Thank you, Dr. Abbot. I have some things to do. See you tomorrow.” Rose smiled, it didn’t reach her eyes.

“Sure. Let me know if you need anything.” Jack shifted his backpack on his shoulder and made his way to his truck.

The rain beat against the window, a soft soundtrack to the whirling thoughts in Jack’s head. He thought maybe he should have spoken up earlier. Maybe she would be next to him. Maybe he should text her and make sure that she was okay. The hours ticked by and his mind didn’t give him rest.

Banging at his door made him jump, brows furrowed. He pulled himself up, his crutches digging into his arms. He ripped open the door, ready to dress down whoever was slamming on his door when he saw Rose. All the anger dripped from his body at the sight of her shaking form.

“Fuck, get in here.” He moved aside so she could come in.

“I’m sorry if I woke you.” She said, teeth chattering.

“Wasn’t asleep.” Jack moved to the linen closet in the hall, grabbing a towel for her. “Here.” He tossed it to her.

“Th-thank you.” Rose shook as she peeled her jacket off and dried herself off.

“What’s going on?” Jack asked as he pushed her into the living room.

“I…I told him. Kyle.” She said. Jack could see the tears now that the rain was dried off.

“Sit down.” Jack said as he flopped back on the couch.

“I’ll ruin the couch.”

“Christ sake.” Jack grumbled, hoisting himself up with a groan as he went into his room. He grabbed a shirt and an old pair of sweatpants. “Put these on.” He shoved the clothes to her.

“Jack-”

“It’s fine. Your teeth chattering is annoying the shit out of me anyway.” He sighed as he sunk back into the couch. Rose thought about fighting him, but Jack shot her a look and she went to the bathroom.

“Thank you.” Rose muttered as she came back out and sat on the couch.

“You told that mediocre idiot. And?” Jack crossed his arms.

“He…he swore I trapped him. Said I wanted him for his money or some shit. Said he wouldn’t have any part of it. Said he wouldn’t pay for me to get rid of it.” The tears fell silently down Rose’s face.

Jack felt his chest tighten with rage. He never understood men like that. Men who couldn’t own their actions. How could you do that to a woman?

“Fucking idiot. Fucking asshole.” Jack hissed.

“I…I know what the responsible answer is.” Rose’s voice caught in her throat.

“But it’s not the right one.” Jack finished her thought.

“I don’t talk about it, because it’s not something that really comes up, but when I was twenty, my OBGYN told me I was infertile. Said it was highly unlikely that I would ever have a biological child. I accepted it. I really did. But this…this might be my only chance.” Rose wiped the tears from her face.

“Shit, Rose.” Jack sighed as he leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees.

“Is it stupid? I mean, I’m a senior resident. My workload is starting to lighten. I just…I just have to do it on my own, I guess.”

“If it’s what you want, it’s not stupid. If you want to be a mother, actually be a mother, not just have a baby, it’s not stupid.” Jack ran a hand through his hair as the thoughts got louder and insistent. “And you don’t have to do it alone.” He squeezed his eyes shut as the words left his mouth, unable to stop them.

“What?” Rose’s voice was small, afraid that if she were louder, Jack may vanish.

“I can…I’ll help you. I can help you. If you want.” He cleared his throat.

“That’s too much, I couldn’t ask that of you.”

“I offered. You didn’t ask.” He chuckled. “All I’m saying is if you wanted, you didn’t have to be alone. I could be there. Just as support.” He shrugged.

“You’d do that?” Rose felt herself get emotional again.

“Yeah. For you.” He nodded. “I got a big empty house. You can fill it with whatever you want. I have money I don’t use, it’s yours. I’d sleep better knowing you weren’t alone anyway.” Jack looked away, trying to keep a safe distance as they tread deeper and deeper.

“Like weird, codependent roommates?” Rose huffed a half-hearted laugh.

“Whatever you want to call it.” Jack hummed.

“I don’t want to impose. A baby is a whole lifestyle shift and it’s messy as hell.” Rose sighed.

“When has mess ever bothered me? Especially yours.” Jack sipped his beer. Rose watched him, tried to find any insincerity. That wasn’t who Jack was. He didn’t sugarcoat shit and he said exactly what he meant, for the most part.

“It’s a lot-”

“Where are you even going to keep the baby in a studio apartment the size of a closet? I have two empty rooms upstairs. One for you and one for the nursery. That’s what it was supposed to be anyway. They're yours. No rent, no bills.” Jack shrugged.

“I’m just going to let that little nursery comment go for the time being. When would I move in?” Rose felt herself relaxing; the thought of being secure for a while felt good.

“Whenever. When your lease is up, when you're further along, tomorrow. I don’t care.” Jack shrugged.

Rose sat watching him in awe for a minute. The man that he was. She’d never met anyone like him. He was so caring while being so unconcerned about anyone’s reactions. He was kind and still sarcastic as hell. He was a good man. She jumped forward and wrapped herself around him.

“Jesus! My fucking beer!” Jack gasped, the beer sloshing out of his can. He put it down on the end table and reciprocated the hug.

“You were always my favorite attending.” Rose hummed.

“Smartass.” Jack chuckled.

“Thank you, Jack.” Rose pulled away to look him in the eye.

After a week of arguing over how everything was going to work and house rules:

“What the fuck is a ‘reset Sunday?’ I’m not doing that.”

“Jack, you have to eat more vegetables. Why the fuck do you need so much protein powder?”

“I’ll paint the fucking nursery. There is no way in hell, I’m letting you on a ladder. Have you lost your fucking mind?”

“I am not just taking your credit card, Jack! That’s insane! Stop putting money in my coat pocket!”

Move-in day finally arrived. Jack hired movers because he sure as hell wasn’t lugging boxes around and he’d be damned if Rose lifted a finger. The men stomped through his house, Jack sat watching football and sipping his beer. Rose stood hovering, hating how useless she felt.

“Will you relax? They know what they’re doing. This is their job.” Jack chuckled.

“I don’t like making people do things for me.” Rose grumbled.

“We paid them. They do not care. Besides, you think you’re picking up a box?” Jack shoved a handful of chips into his mouth.

“I could bring some stuff in.” Rose crossed her arms.

“No, you couldn’t.” Jack shot her a bemused look. “You don’t touch any of it.” He said, his voice low and rumbling.

“Okay, okay.” She moaned as she sat on the couch.

“They’ll be done in a minute. Not like you had that much shit, anyway.” Jack moved to put the bowl of chips between them.

“I hate football.”

“Get out of my house.”

“I’m making you watch good movies from now, by the way.”

“I don’t watch movies.”

“That is a tragedy. I will rectify it.”

“They’re too long. Nothing happens.”

“Football is like four hours of men in tight pants standing around.”

“They do stuff.”

“I’m making you watch the good stuff. I’m talking Dog Day Afternoon, Jaws, In The Mood For Love, Paddington, Almost Famous. Good shit.”

“That sounds like a lot of work.”

“You are definitely watching All That Jazz! You and Robby are borderline the medical versions of Joe Gideon.”

“No musicals. I mean it.”

“It’s not even a musical. Well…I guess it kind of is. You’ll like it.”

“I don’t like musicals.”

“Don’t think of it like a musical. Besides it’s my favorite movie.”

“…fine. But I want to be buzzed when it happens.”

“You have no idea how appropriate that is.”

The two fell into a routine fairly quickly. They worked the same shift, no one was waking anyone up too early. Rose liked making herself a packed dinner. Jack just grabbed his bag and a protein bar. Rose started packing him a dinner. Jack started carrying her prenatal vitamins in his pocket pill case because she would only remember once they were at work.

People started noticing how close they were. Perlah was the first to mention they left and arrived in the same car and it didn’t look like carpooling.

Rose had been open about the fact that she was pregnant. There really wasn’t any way around it, working in the ER. She couldn’t be exposed to radiation or certain illnesses. Everyone knew that the mediocre boy was the father. But no one was going to question Jack being so close. Except one person, but it’s kind of his job.

“Jack, what the hell is going on with you two?” Robby pulled him aside at the lockers.

“I’m just looking out for her. She’s alone. I’m being supportive.” Jack grumbled as he grabbed his backpack.

“It’s looking like more than that. She’s fucking pregnant, Jack! Now is not the time to make a move.” Robby huffed.

“I’m not making a move! Fuck sake, who do you think I am!?” Jack growled.

“Is she living with you? Perlah mentioned it and I can’t unsee it.” Robby crossed his arms.

“Since when do you listen to gossip?” Jack shook his head.

“Jack.”

“Yeah! She is. That shitty guy rejected her, she lived in a studio, I wasn’t going to let her be out there struggling when I could help.” Jack hung his head. He was frustrated that people couldn’t keep their noses out of it.

“You’re just helping her? Nothing funny?”

“Don’t be nasty.” Jack hissed.

“Look, I’m in charge of this department. I need to know when this kind of shit is going on. I have to protect my employees. That’s all this is. If it’s a consensual thing, she’s a senior resident now, I can’t make too much of a fuss. But it looks…weird. From the outside.” Robby sighed.

“My house felt like some abandoned hotel. It was quiet all the time. I couldn’t leave it, I bought it with my wife. It was everything we had; it means too much. It’s not so quiet now. I forgot how nice that is. I just want to help her. She’s my friend, and I have room and money, and I don’t want to deal with that shit. She can have it.” Jack looked up at Robby, knowing he could read between the lines.

“Okay. I won’t push it anymore.” Robby sighed. “Just don’t…don’t fuck it up. She deserves a soft place to land.”

Jack came home, his bag too heavy on his shoulder, his leg aching and on fire. He closed the door and tossed his shit in the corner. He wanted to shove food in his face, shower, and collapse.

He made his way towards the kitchen when he heard sniffling. He was immediately on high alert. He rushed into the living room to find Rose crying on the couch.

“What happened? What’s wrong?” He hurried over to her, a hand on her back. She waved him off.

“I’m fine!” She cried.

“Clearly.” He snorted. “Why are you upset?”

“They love each other so much!” She sobbed as she pointed to the screen. Pride and Prejudice was playing.

“Fuck sake, I thought something was actually wrong.” Jack chuckled.

“I don’t usually cry like this, but it’s just…they’re so happy.” Rose sniffled.

“Hormones will do that.” Jack groaned as he stood back up, rubbing his leg.

“Sit down. I’ll get you something to eat.” Rose wiped her face as she got up.

“I can do it.” Jack limped forward until Rose’s hand on his chest stopped him.

“Don’t argue with a hormonal pregnant woman.” She said, pushing him onto the couch. “Get that leg off before we have to amputate the rest.” She barked as she went into the kitchen.   

Jack was going to argue but was too tired. He pulled his leg off and started peeling his sock and cover off. Rose came back in with a plate of Chinese take-out.

“Sorry.” Jack murmured.

“For what?” Rose set the plate on the coffee table in front of him.

“It’s kind of gross.” Jack grabbed the baby wipes he kept on the end table and started cleaning his leg.

“Your leg? Please. We work the same job, Jack. I see actually gross things on a regular basis. Your leg isn’t even in the top 300,” Rose laughed.

“Point made.” Jack said as he scarfed down the food.

“I need to talk to you about something and I don’t want to make it weird.” Rose fidgeted with the hands.

“Well, you already have.” Jack laughed. “What?”

“I don’t know how…involved you want to be. Like I know we’re friends and you’re letting me stay here-”

“You live here. You’re not staying here, like it’s a fucking hostel. This is your home. Go on.”

“Anyway.” Rose rolled her eyes. “I was sitting at my ultrasound the other day and I realized that I was maybe kind of rude. I should have offered for you to come with.” She shrugged. Jack stopped eating, staring at the floor as he processed her words.

“Do you want me to go with you?”

“I don’t know…sometimes.” Rose shrugged. “They’re scary. You never know if they’re going to see something bad.”

“I’d go. If you wanted me to.” Jack nodded.

“Okay.” Rose let out a sigh of relief. “The next one is in two weeks. I’ll put it on the kitchen calendar.”

“You don’t have to be nervous to ask me for anything. Especially if it’s something you need. I mean it, I’m here for you.” Jack said.

“I’m not used to it. Being taken care of.” Rose said it like it wasn’t one of the worst things Jack had ever heard.

“Get used to it.” He murmured.

[esotericcherub]

father figure

pairing: spencer reid x pregnant f! reader

warnings: fluff, kissing, found family

synopsis: one day you’re building furniture for your baby’s nursery but you’re alone and struggling so naturally, you call spencer.

a/n: first time writing anything like this!! this was very reminiscent of rollins and carisis dynamic in svu when she was pregnant, i took a little inspo from that. adored writing this 🥹

when you found out you were pregnant you didn’t know how to feel, you felt so overjoyed to be having a little baby to adore but at the same time you were so scared. you didn’t know if you were ready to balance your job as an fbi agent and being a mother, but then you thought of jj and you felt reassured again. you were also scared because you and your boyfriends relationship had always been rocky but it had become particularly unstable in the past few weeks and you knew you were on the outs. you had no idea how your boyfriend would react to the news, you guys hadn’t even spoken about if children was in the cards for the two of you together.

when the two pink lines appeared on the pregnancy test you knew you had to gain the courage to tell him straightaway or you would only stall until it was too late. you called him to your place immediately and when you broke the news to him he reacted badly. he got angry and claimed he didn’t want a baby and especially not with you. that stung. he proceeded to tell you he wants nothing to do with you or your child together and he walked out. you haven’t seen him since, despite trying to contact him numerous times he hasn’t picked up once.

the team noticed your mood had dipped and stay on a steady decline for a month or two at this point. when you were on a mission to capture an unsub, it was just you and spencer waiting in the car alone and that’s when he asked you what has been happening with you. you broke down in tears about how you were pregnant and all the other details surrounding the pregnancy.

spencer was shocked and appalled with your now ex boyfriends behaviour in the matter. but as soon as the words “i’m pregnant” slipped past your lips he pulled you into a tight embrace straight away and said he would stick by you through all of this, and he wasn’t lying.

ever since your first day at the bau, you and spencer hit it off and struck up a close friendship straightaway. when you moved into your current apartment, he helped you move in.

you told the rest of the team you were pregnant and the circumstances and they have been nothing short of supportive. ever since they have been your support system and help you out in any way they can. they cover for you when you’re having a particularly tricky day.

but spencer however, has been your absolute rock. he has attended every appointment with you and didn’t correct the nurse when they alluded to him being your babies father. he has never missed an appointment, he was there when you heard your baby’s heartbeat for the first time and when you found out you were having a baby girl.

you had always had feelings for spencer ever since the day you first laid eyes on him, but you knew your feelings were unrequited so you didn’t bother acting on them and instead appreciated your close friendship.

currently, you’re seven months pregnant with your due date getting closer and closer everyday and maternity leave just around the corner. it was one of your very rare days off, and you decided you were going to start building the baby’s crib.

you knew it was dangerous but you hauled the heavy furniture pack into the baby’s nursery and laid it flat on the floor. you pulled all the parts out of the box and put them down infront of you. you had opted for a dark wood to go with the rest of your girls nursery.

as you grabbed nails and a screwdriver and attempted to read and follow the instructions, you were having great difficulty navigating this on your own. you had been at this for at least an hour now and not one part had been built yet.

you looked down at the unbuilt crib and broke down into tears, your heart feeling heavy in your chest. you couldn’t do this alone. the realisation hit you like a ton of bricks and everything came crashing down all at once. a million thoughts surged through your brain. how were you going to be able to build your baby’s future furniture or toys up alone if you can’t even build this crib? how are you going to manage sleepless nights as a single parent?

you knew by wallowing and letting your intrusive thoughts win you were never going to worm yourself out of this hole or get anything done. you grabbed your phone from your pocket and punched in spencer’s number. he immediately picked up on the first ring. you couldn’t help but feel your heart swell at that.

“spence” you said as your voice cracked. “what’s wrong?” he said panicked at your tone. “i can’t do this.” you cried. “can’t do what?” spencer questioned but you could hear rustling in the back. “everything.” you said simply. “i’m on my way.” spencer said as you heard the click of a door shut and he hung up.

in the 20 minutes it took for spencer to reach your apartment, you sat in the rocking chair and just thought about everything. you stared at the unbuilt crib hoping that after this blip today that you would never feel like this again. so helpless and tired.

you heard spencer let himself in with the spare key you gave him for emergencies. he entered the nursery and immediately walked towards you and pulled you into an embrace, you cried into his chest a little and he stroked your back.

“let’s build this crib, shall we?” spencer asked and you nodded wiping tears that had fallen. “i just looked at the furniture and the fact i was struggling to build it and panicked, everything became too overwhelming.” you said explaining yourself. “you don’t have to explain yourself to me, im here now.” spencer smiled and reached for the instructions.

“i appreciate you being here today.” you said after a brief moment of silence, you and spencer had been quietly chatting about work and life in general when that silence fell over you. “call me anytime, i’ll always pick up for you.” spencer said, at his words heat crawled up your into your cheeks.

you both continued building the crib until finally it was finished! “it looks great!” you exclaimed staring at the beautiful wooden crib, you knew you had picked the correct crib because now the room was beginning to come together.

“thank you for helping me.” you started. “i- i don’t think i could do this without you, truthfully.” you confessed. “hey” spencer said inching closer to you. “i am going to be in you and baby girls life until you are sick of the sight of me.” spencer joked and you laughed.

“me and lottie are grateful.” you smiled before your hand flew up to your mouth realising you had just let slip baby girls name. “lottie?” spencer questioned and you nodded. “beautiful name for a beautiful girl, just like her momma.” spencer said.

“spence, she’s not even born yet.” you chuckled as light blush dusted your cheeks. “i mean what i said.” spencer shrugged. “she’s lucky to have you.” spencer added, wrapping a hand around your waist and pulling you close to him.

you were now face to face with spencer, you got up on your tip toes and planted a soft kiss on spencer’s lips. you both pulled back a little to look into each others eyes before spencer caressed your cheek and took the lead, kissing you hungrily.

“i am going to do good by you and lottie, and i mean that.” spencer said firmly and you cast your eyes downwards. “i am not going to break that promise, i have never broken any. im never going to be like you ass of an ex boyfriend.” spencer said, angry rising up at the thought of your ex boyfriend abandoning you.

“what was his name again?” spencer joked and you laughed. “jake.” you said your voice dripping with venom. “my girls.” spencer smiled as he put an arm around you and caressed your bump with his other hand.

“fuck! i’ve just realised i have more things to build! i just got so swept up in the stress of building the crib i totally forgot about everything else.” you said your hand resting on your forehead. “that’s why i called reinforcements.” spencer said with a cheeky grin. “huh?” you questioned, at that moment your doorbell went.

you opened the door and saw the team standing in your doorway waiting to be let in. “guys.” was all you said as your eyes welled up with tears. “don’t cry!” penelope said rushing forward to console you. “hormones.” you explained wiping your eyes.

“i heard you needed some assistance?” aaron said stepping inside. “you could say that.” you laughed as you led them to the nursery. the guys got stuck in to building everything.

“i bought wine!” emily exclaimed bringing in glasses and clinking them against eachother. “you’re mean” you growled. “sorry princess, you can have a water.” emily smirked as she got settled to a position on the floor and poured a drink for herself, jj, and penelope.

“so unfair” you said leaning into the rocking chair. “only two months to go!” jj said trying to lift your spirits. it was like emily was trying to rub it in your face that she could drink and you couldn’t. “are you going to be any real help?” you grumbled. “no i was just here for the wine!” emily said honestly and you cracked. “and too see these hunks build everything for you!” emily added which made the room erupt in a fit of laughter.

feeling bored, you bent down to go and help the boys but they stopped. “you just sit back and look pretty, baby girl.” derek winked, you were secretly glad that they had it all taken care of.

“so, do you have any name ideas picked out?” penelope asked curiously. “i have some, but you will just have to wait until she’s born.” you shrugged and looked up at spencer before you both shot a wink towards eachother.

[bullseyelover]

the dex 1x08 swiffer video has now been found in good quality!

via twitter

[starmoraquills]

lullabies

hey, so this is kinda in response to this and also as a prompt i came w during work!! :) i have this headcanon that sometimes peter sings to baby groot to calm him down and gamora thinks it’s REALLY attractive. hope you guys enjoy :)

summary: rocket can’t get groot to stop crying, so peter thinks back to what comforts him the most when he’s distressed. gamora and peter mom/dad fEELS.

**********

“Psst, hey,” Rocket whispers, shaking Peter awake.

It takes a minute, but he eventually stirs, grumbling incoherently at being woken from such good slumber. He rolls over, glaring at his furry friend for waking him up. Rocket quickly disregards the glare, though, for there’s something important at hand.

Outside of the door, a loud, familiar crying echoes down the hall. Peter sits up, eyebrows furrowing quizzically.

“Look, normally I can handle the li’l twig on my own, but he’s been cryin’ for frickin’ three hours now, and I’m not sure why. He won’t talk!”

Peter nods sleepily, climbing out of bed. Beside him, Gamora also stirs a little, peeking her eyes open ever so slightly. She watches as he gets up, sliding on a pair of clothes since all he usually sleeps in is his boxers. The both of them are bickering among themselves in a quiet voice; she almost makes out Peter hushing him as to not disturb her rest. It’s a bit too late for that, though. Still, quite considerate of him. She watches as they exit the room, weighing whether or not to follow them to see what Groot’s crying about.

They both enter the lengthy hallway of the Quadrant, what separates the captain’s quarters to the rest of the rather large ship. The sleeping quarters for everyone else is merely a stairway down, and that’s where Groot is at. In Rocket’s room, wailing uncontrollably atop a pillow. Peter takes a seat on the bed beside him.

“Hey, hey,” he mumbles loud enough over his crying.

Groot quiets down a little and gazes at Quill. Each of the Guardians have a parental role for him, and Peter’s is always a bit more gentler. Perhaps it stems from the fact that he’s never had a father himself, and from a young age he knew that if he was to ever become a dad, he’d be the best he could be.

He watches as Groot’s crying settles a little. His lips still quiver, tears still falling down his cheeks, but Peter has an excellent calming effect. He wipes away the stray tears as softly as possible with his index finger.

“Please don’t cry,” Peter coos. “I hate it when you cry, buddy.”

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