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(trying to flirt) can i be your problem
Baby Fever - Jack Abbot x F.Reader
Summary
Baby fever
You’re the newly hired nurse, reassigned from peds. You still have your baby pink scrubs and big fat Stanley Cup, which many have used to prevent ‘hula hoop’ being needed. You sweeten up the room for everyone every so slightly, but you miss the night shift you were used to. You switch, and suddenly you find yourself wanting to care for babies again, just this time they're yours and your new attendings. Part 1 of a possible series, if not continued, take as a one-shot.
Word count: 7.01k - I got carried away, maybe.
tags/warnings: Heavyyyy flirting, mentions of child abandonment, reader is very bashful, medical procedure mentions, mentions of needles and meds, mentions of injuries, Dr Shen and his amazing cup, Jack Abbot x f.reader, Fluff i think? Just drabbles honestly, idk, mentions of drug use, mentions of running away, Dr Ellis just knows everything.
-
The time read as 1:48. 12 minutes before the clocks went back, meaning an extra hour on this shift for you. Spring was a lovely time of year; you enjoyed it. Back up in peds, it meant so many new arrivals as the last of the summer-conceived babies arrived before the ‘baby slump’ during the months in between, as everyone left for an early holiday and ended up giving birth there. A nice, slow-paced environment from this moment. Sometimes they let you do the day shift instead. But that’s what you used to have.
Right now? Right now, you are running around chasing a hyper psych patient and trying to prevent them from waking up the whole of the South Bay's day patients. You watch the man trip, slip and fall, smacking his head on the cold, hard flooring as you jog up to him. Honestly, you want to laugh, but you’re scared he's still conscious and going to slime you out. You crouch, careful to mind your new white crocs in the pool of blood leaking from his nose as you quickly inspect him. You decide he's out and attempt to haul him up yourself.
There's my Home
Jack Abbot x Paramedic Reader
Synopsis: Paramedic Y/N and emergency physician Jack Abbot have spent years crossing paths in Pittsburgh's emergency department, but a string of shared shifts turns casual familiarity into late-night calls, coffee dates, and undeniable feelings. As their connection grows, they learn that loving someone in emergency medicine means accepting the risks that come with the job. When Y/N is seriously injured in the line of duty, Jack is forced to face the one thing he can't fix, proving that sometimes love is found not in the chaos, but in the quiet moments afterward.
-----
Jack sighed as he opened his front door and let his bags hit the floor. He stepped out of his shoes, pulled his shirt over his head, and headed straight for the shower. After a long, exhausting shift, he felt like he needed to wash the entire night off of him.
By the time he finally started settling in, he found himself standing in front of his fridge, staring blankly at the contents while trying to figure out what he could throw together for breakfast.
Before he could start cooking, his eyes drifted toward his phone sitting on the counter.
He hesitated for a moment before picking it up and opening your contact.
The last message from you sat at the bottom of the screen.
*I’ll be off in a while. I’ll call you when I get home.*
You had sent it three hours ago.
He hadn’t answered because a trauma had rolled through the emergency department moments after your message came in, and the rest of the shift had disappeared into controlled chaos.
Jack smiled slightly as he tapped a heart reaction on the message.
Almost immediately, his phone lit up.
You were calling.
“Were you thinking about me, Jack Abbott?” you teased the second he answered.
He rolled his eyes, even though you couldn’t see him. “I never responded, so I figured some sort of response was warranted.”
“Mhm,” you hummed, clearly amused.
Jack smiled as he grabbed a pan and started pulling ingredients from the fridge.
“How was your shift?”
You let out a tired sigh. “It was long. Like, really long. I think it was because it started so slow, and then all of a sudden everything happened at once. We went from sitting around for hours to being everywhere at the same time.”
“Sounds familiar,” he said.
“You mean like every shift in the ER?”
“Exactly.”
You laughed quietly. “I had some guy propose in the back of my ambulance tonight.”
Jack stopped what he was doing. “No way.”
“Yes way,” you said, laughing. “He hurt his wrist doing something stupid and ruined his actual proposal plan, so apparently the back of my ambulance was the next best option.”
Jack shook his head, laughing as he stirred the food in the pan. “Did she say yes?”
“She did.”
“Honestly? Kind of romantic.”
“Romantic?” you questioned. “Jack, he was holding an ice pack to his hand while asking her to marry him.”
“Still counts.”
You laughed again, and Jack found himself smiling at the sound. It was one of his favorite things about talking to you. After years of knowing each other, you still had a way of making even the worst nights feel lighter.
The two of you had known each other for years, long before either of you realized how often your paths would cross. You had always been the paramedic who somehow ended up bringing the most complicated patients into his emergency department, and Jack had always been the physician who recognized your voice before he even looked up from the chart.
Then, one week, it seemed like every call you took somehow ended up at his hospital.
At first, you joked it was because the universe was trying to annoy both of you. But after the third night in a row of seeing each other during absolute chaos, it started feeling less like coincidence.
The two of you had ended up talking in the hallway after a particularly brutal shift. Both exhausted, both running on caffeine and adrenaline, neither of you wanting to go home just yet.
You had laughed about how ridiculous it was that you spent years barely seeing each other, only for one week to make you unavoidable.
That conversation turned into coffee.
Coffee turned into late-night phone calls.
Late-night phone calls turned into something neither of you really had a name for yet. And somewhere along the way, Jack realized he had started looking forward to seeing your name light up his phone more than he wanted to admit.
“So,” you said, pulling him out of his thoughts, “how was your night?”
Jack leaned against the counter. “Busy.”
“That’s a very Jack Abbott answer.”
He smiled. “Fine. It was terrible.”
“Better.”
“Multiple traumas. A kid with a broken arm who was more worried about his video game than his injury. A guy who thought he could walk off chest pain because he was ‘too busy.’”
“Classic.”
“Exactly.”
You were quiet for a moment. “You sound tired.”
Jack looked down at the breakfast he had barely touched. “I am.”
“Did you eat?”
He glanced at the pan. “Currently making something.”
“That means no.”
He laughed softly. “You’re starting to sound like my nurses.”
“No, your nurses probably tell you because they have to. I’m telling you because I care.”
The words were simple, but they stayed with him.
Jack looked down at his phone, smiling. “You know you’re kind of bossy, right?”
“And yet you keep answering my calls.”
“Yeah,” he admitted.
There was a pause. A comfortable one. The kind that had slowly become normal between the two of you.
“Jack?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m glad all my calls ended up at your hospital.”
He smiled, looking around his quiet apartment. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
He leaned against the counter, his exhaustion feeling a little less heavy than it had a few minutes ago. “Me too.”
Neither of you said anything after that.
You didn’t need to.
Because somewhere between ambulance bays, emergency room hallways, and conversations after impossible shifts, something had changed.
And neither of you wanted to go back.
----
The next two weeks were strangely quiet.
Not bad quiet. Not the kind of quiet that meant something terrible was waiting around the corner. Just… quiet. The kind where Jack would finish a shift, stare at his phone, and think about calling you before deciding you were probably exhausted and needed sleep.
And you did the same.
Both of you were caught up in your own rotations, your own chaos, your own lives. You had traded a few texts here and there, but nothing like the late-night calls that had become routine.
Jack told himself it was fine. That it was normal. That two people who worked opposite sides of emergency medicine couldn’t always find time to talk.
But he would be lying if he said he didn’t miss it.
Missed hearing your voice after a long night.
Missed your sarcastic comments.
Missed the way you somehow managed to make a terrible shift feel less terrible.
So when his phone buzzed in the middle of another busy night, he glanced down expecting a message from one of the residents.
Instead, your name appeared. A smile immediately pulled at his face.
*See ya in a bit, cutie!*
Jack shook his head, unable to stop himself from smiling. “You’re ridiculous,” he muttered under his breath.
Before he could respond, the sound of an ambulance pulling into the bay caught his attention.
And then he heard you.
“BP is 90 over 60, heart rate 130, GCS is 12. Patient was involved in a rollover accident. Possible chest trauma, decreased breath sounds on the left side.”
Jack looked up immediately. Even before he saw you, he knew it was you. Your voice carried through the ambulance bay the same way it always did, confident, focused, completely different from the person who teased him over the phone.
The trauma came in fast. For the next several minutes, there was no flirting, no jokes, no catching up.
Just medicine.
Just teamwork.
Jack moved through the trauma like he always did, focused on the patient in front of him. But every so often, he caught a glimpse of you across the room, working alongside the nurses and residents before stepping back once the patient was stabilized.
Eventually, the chaos settled.
The patient was moved upstairs, the room was cleaned, and the emergency department returned to its usual rhythm.
Jack glanced toward the ambulance bay.
Your ambulance was still there.
Which meant you were still there.
He found himself walking outside before he could talk himself out of it. The cool night air hit him as he stepped into the bay, and that's when he saw you.
You were sitting on one of the benches near the entrance, your arms crossed over your chest and your eyes closed.
For a second, Jack just watched you.
You looked exhausted.
Not hurt. Not upset. Just tired.
The kind of tired only someone who worked nights in emergency medicine could understand.
He walked closer. “So you don’t call me for two weeks,” he said, crossing his arms, “and then what? You just show up at my ED?”
Your eyes opened slowly. You looked over at him and immediately rolled your eyes.
“Phone works both ways, old man.”
Jack scoffed. “Old man?”
“Yes.”
“You’re aware I’m only-”
“Older than me.”
“That is not an insult.”
“It is when I’m trying to annoy you.”
He laughed quietly, sitting down beside you. For a moment, neither of you said anything.
You leaned your head back against the wall. “I was going to call you.”
“Sure you were.”
“I was.”
“When?”
You looked at him. “Eventually.”
Jack smiled. “Exactly.”
You nudged his shoulder. “You’re dramatic.”
“And you missed me.”
You opened your mouth to argue, but nothing came out. Jack noticed.
And for once, he didn’t tease you about it. “I missed you too.”
Your expression softened slightly.
The teasing faded.
“Yeah?”
He nodded. “Yeah.”
He looked down at his hands, a little quieter now. “Honestly? After a shift, I started getting excited to call you.”
You watched him carefully. “Really?”
“Yeah.” He shrugged. “I’d get home exhausted, barely able to keep my eyes open, and somehow I’d still want to hear about your night. Hear what ridiculous thing happened. Listen to you make fun of me.”
You smiled. “That’s a very specific thing to miss.”
“I like it.”
The admission hung between you.
Jack looked over at you. “And I know it was only two weeks.”
Your smile faded into something softer.
“But I noticed.” The corner of his mouth lifted. “I noticed not having you there.”
For once, you didn’t have a sarcastic response ready.
You just looked at him. “Jack Abbott,” you said quietly, “are you telling me you missed me?”
He rolled his eyes. “Don’t make it weird.”
“You absolutely missed me.”
“I literally just said that.”
“You admitted it.”
“I did.”
You smiled. “And you’re not taking it back?”
“No.”
That surprised you.
Jack leaned back against the bench, looking out toward the empty ambulance bay.
“I like talking to you.”
Your expression softened. “I like talking to you too.”
A comfortable silence settled between you. The kind that didn’t need filling.
Then you glanced at him. “So… are you going to ask for my number again?”
Jack looked offended. “I already have your number.”
“Then why haven’t you used it?”
He laughed. “Okay, that was fair.”
You smiled. “Thought so.”
Jack stood up, offering you his hand. “Come on.”
“Where are we going?”
“Coffee.”
You looked at the hospital behind him. “Right now?”
“Yes.”
“Jack, it’s two in the morning.”
“Exactly.”
You laughed as you took his hand. “Only emergency medicine people think that’s a normal time for coffee.”
“Exactly.”
And just like that, after two weeks of silence, you were back where you had started.
Late nights.
Bad coffee.
And finding each other somewhere in the middle of the chaos.
-----
The emergency department was already drowning before Jack Abbot’s night got worse.
As a SWAT physician and medic for the Pittsburgh Police Department, he was used to chaos. He was used to stepping into situations most people ran from. He was used to being the person others looked toward when things went wrong.
But even he knew there was a difference between controlled chaos and a situation that went sideways. A call had come in. A situation that required his team. And somewhere between treating officers and moving through the scene, a bullet had caught him.
Not a direct hit.
A graze.
But enough to leave a cut along his back and enough for his adrenaline to finally catch up with him. By the time he got back to the hospital, he was already irritated. Not because he was hurt. Because he knew exactly what everyone was going to say.
You should have someone look at that.
You should sit down.
You shouldn’t be treating yourself.
Which was exactly why he was currently standing in an empty room in the emergency department, trying to clean his own wound.
His phone buzzed. He glanced down. A message from you.
*You better not be ignoring me again.*
Despite everything, he smiled. His fingers hovered over the keyboard for a second before he typed back.
*Got grazed.*
The response came almost immediately.
*What?*
He looked at the message. Then typed.
*I’m fine.*
Three dots appeared. Then disappeared. Then appeared again.
*Jack Abbot.*
He laughed quietly.
*I’m fine.*
Your response was immediate.
*Where are you?*
He sighed.
Because somehow, even through a text message, you sounded exactly like you did when you were annoyed with him.
*ED.*
Another pause.
Then.
*Of course you are.*
Before he could answer, the familiar sound of an ambulance pulling into the bay caught his attention. And then he heard you.
“Patient involved in a high-speed collision. Possible internal injuries. BP is dropping, heart rate 140, altered mental status. We need trauma activation.”
Jack smiled despite himself.
Of course. Of course your team was already bringing someone in. Of course you were here.
He watched from a distance as you moved through the department, completely focused. You handed off the patient, gave report, and immediately started helping the trauma team.
Professional.
Focused.
The exact reason he respected you so much. But the second the patient was stabilized, your eyes started searching. And Jack knew he was in trouble.
He barely had time to step back into the small treatment room before the curtain opened.
You walked in. Closed it behind you. And stared at him.
“Are you serious?”
Jack looked up from where he was attempting to clean his own wound. And the smile that immediately appeared on his face gave him away. “There she is.”
You scoffed. “Oh, don’t ‘there she is’ me.”
You grabbed gloves from the counter and pulled them on. “You get shot at and your first thought is to text me that you’re fine?”
“I got grazed.”
“Jack.”
“It’s barely anything.”
“Jack.”
He stopped. Because that tone meant there was no arguing. You pointed toward the chair.
“Sit.”
He smiled. “You missed bossing me around.”
“I missed you being annoying less than five minutes ago.”
“Sure.” He sat.
You stepped between his knees and carefully started cleaning the wound.
The room went quiet.
Not awkward.
Just quiet.
The kind of quiet that only existed between the two of you. Jack watched you carefully.
The concentration on your face. The way your brows pulled together when you were worried but trying not to show it.
“You’re mad.”
You didn’t look up. “Yes.”
“Because I got hurt?”
“Because you got hurt and acted like it was nothing.”
“I knew I was okay.”
“That’s not the point.” Your voice softened. “You don’t always have to be the person who handles everything, Jack.”
That caught him. Because coming from anyone else, he probably would have brushed it off.
But from you? He listened.
You finished cleaning the wound and started applying the dressing. “You scared me.”
The words were quiet. And suddenly, the teasing disappeared.
Jack looked at you. “You were worried?”
You looked up. “Obviously.”
There it was. The thing neither of you had said out loud yet. The reason your coworkers had started noticing. The reason his nurses smiled every time your ambulance pulled into the bay. The reason your crew always seemed to know when Jack was working before you did.
You cared.
A lot.
When you finished patching him up, you didn’t immediately step away.
Neither of you moved.
Jack’s hands found your hips slowly. Not pulling. Not forcing.
Just a quiet question.
Stay.
Your breath caught.
His eyes dropped briefly to your lips before meeting your gaze again.
“You know,” he whispered, “for someone who claims we’re just friends, you seem pretty invested in keeping me alive.”
You smiled slightly. “You’re impossible.”
“And yet…”
“And yet.”
The space between you disappeared. Almost. You were close enough that neither of you could pretend anymore.
Close enough that you both knew what was about to happen.
And then-
The curtain flew open.
“Dr. Abbott, we need—”
The person stopped. You and Jack didn’t move. Not even slightly. There was a long pause.
Then both of you sighed.
The interruption was painfully obvious.
You stepped back first, shaking your head. “Of course.”
Jack smiled. “Bad timing.”
“Terrible timing.”
You pulled your gloves off and tossed them away. Then you looked back at him. The teasing returned, but softer now. “I’ll see you later, Abbot.”
His eyebrows lifted. “Yeah?”
You smiled. “We have a bunch to talk about after we get off.”
And then you walked away. Leaving Jack sitting there with a stupid smile on his face.
A smile that did not go unnoticed by the nurse standing nearby. “Who was that?”
Jack looked toward the curtain where you disappeared. And for once, he didn’t even try to hide it. “Someone important.”
The nurse smiled. “Yeah. We figured that out.”
-----
By the time you got home, the sun was already beginning to peek over the Pittsburgh skyline.
You kicked off your boots by the front door with a sigh, every muscle in your body reminding you just how long the shift had been. The hot shower did little to wash away the adrenaline that still lingered beneath your skin, but it helped.
After throwing together something quick to eat, you curled up on the couch in an oversized sweatshirt, letting the quiet of your apartment settle around you.
Your phone sat on the coffee table.
You picked it up, stared at Jack's contact for a second, and smiled to yourself.
After everything that had happened tonight...There was no way a text conversation was going to cut it.
You typed three simple words. *Call me please.*
You barely had time to lock your phone before it started vibrating in your hand.
Jack.
You answered with a grin. "That was fast."
"I was already reaching for my phone," he admitted.
You laughed softly. "Were you really?"
"Yeah." His voice was quieter than usual. "I've been thinking about tonight."
You tucked your legs underneath you. "So have I."
There was a comfortable silence between you. The kind the two of you had somehow mastered. Neither of you felt the need to rush into filling it.
Finally, you spoke. "You scared me."
Jack sighed. "I know."
"No." You rubbed your forehead. "I don't think you do."
He didn't interrupt.
"When you texted me that you'd been grazed..." You shook your head even though he couldn't see you. "My stomach dropped. I knew you were probably downplaying it because that's what you do, but all I could think was, 'What if this time it isn't just a graze?'"
Jack leaned back on his own couch, closing his eyes. "I didn't think about it like that."
"I know."
"I'm sorry." The apology came so easily that it caught you off guard.
"You don't have to apologize for getting hurt."
"I'm apologizing for making you worry."
Your shoulders relaxed. "Thank you."
Another quiet settled between you.
Jack broke it this time. "You looked good."
You blinked. "What?"
"When you walked into that room."
A laugh escaped you. "I was lecturing you."
"I know."
"I was annoyed."
"I know."
"I threatened to make you sit still."
"You definitely did."
"And somehow that's the part you remember?"
Jack smiled to himself. "No."
"What do you remember?"
He hesitated just long enough that you wondered if he'd answer. "I remember you closing the curtain."
Your heart skipped.
"I remember thinking..." He exhaled slowly. "Good. She's here."
You swallowed. "Jack..."
"I know it sounds ridiculous."
"It doesn't."
"I've spent years patching people up." He chuckled quietly. "I'm terrible at letting anyone do the same for me."
"You are."
"I know."
"But tonight..." He paused. "When you walked in and took over... I didn't mind."
You smiled to yourself. "Really?"
"No."
"No?"
"I liked it."
The confession hung between you.
Jack's voice softened even more. "I liked how close you were."
Your breath caught.
"You were standing between my knees, fussing over a scratch that I kept insisting wasn't a big deal."
"It wasn't just a scratch."
"I know." He smiled.
"But you kept looking at me like I mattered more than the paperwork waiting outside that curtain."
"You do matter more."
"I know. And..." He stopped again.
"What?"
"I don't know how to explain it."
"Try."
Jack stared out the window of his house as the early morning light crept across the room.
"When you're that close..." he said quietly, "everything else disappears."
You didn't say anything.
"I stop thinking about the department. The patients. The paperwork. The next disaster." He laughed under his breath. "I stop thinking."
Your heart was pounding now.
"And all I can think is..." He hesitated. "...this feels like home."
The words settled over you.
You closed your eyes. "Home?"
"Yeah."
He sounded almost embarrassed.
"I know that's probably too much."
"It isn't."
"You don't think so?"
"No." You smiled as you traced absentminded circles on the sleeve of your sweatshirt. "Want to know what I was thinking?"
"What?"
"When you put your hands on my hips."
Jack laughed nervously. "I wasn't exactly subtle."
"No."
"I almost moved them."
"I'm glad you didn't." He was quiet. "I didn't want to."
You smiled. "I know."
"I just..." He sighed. "I wanted you to stay there for another minute."
"So did I."
Neither of you spoke.
The memory replayed in both of your minds, the tiny treatment room, the curtain drawn, your hands finishing the bandage while his rested lightly against your hips.
"So..." Jack said after a moment.
"So?"
"We almost kissed."
You buried your face in one of the couch cushions, laughing despite yourself. "We absolutely almost kissed."
"And then someone walked in."
"Terrible timing."
"The worst."
You smiled into the phone. "You know..."
"Hm?"
"I meant what I said."
"About what?"
"When I left."
Jack could hear the smile in your voice.
"We really do have a lot to talk about."
He smiled too. "I know."
A beat passed.
"So..."
"So?"
"Can I see you tomorrow?"
You didn't answer right away. Not because you had to think about it. Because hearing him ask made your heart flutter. "I'd like that."
"Good."
"What?"
"I missed you for two weeks."
"I know."
"I'm not waiting another two."
You smiled, your eyes growing heavy as the exhaustion of the night finally began to catch up with you. "Neither am I."
Neither of you hung up.
You stayed on the phone as sleep slowly crept in, talking about everything and nothing, the conversation drifting effortlessly from stories about work to favorite diners, bad coffee, and plans that neither of you had realized you were already making together.
For the first time in a long time, the silence at the end of a shift didn't feel lonely.
It felt shared.
----
A few more shifts came and went.
Some were quiet enough that Jack could steal five minutes to meet you in the ambulance bay with two terrible vending machine coffees. Others were complete disasters where the only interaction you managed was a wave as your crew rolled another patient through the doors.
Somehow, despite the chaos, the two of you had settled into a rhythm.
Texting after shifts.
Calling on the drive home.
Checking in before bed.
It became... normal.
Normal enough that when the rare day came where both of you were off after a stretch of nights, Jack sent a text before either of you could fall asleep.
*Lunch?*
Your response came seconds later.
*Only if you're buying.*
---
The diner was nearly empty.
It was just after one in the afternoon, an odd hour where the lunch crowd had already left and dinner hadn't started yet.
The waitress smiled the moment she recognized the two of you. "The usual?"
Jack nodded. "Please."
You smiled. "I think we've been here too much if she already knows our orders."
Jack shrugged. "I don't see a problem."
"Of course you don't."
Once the food arrived, the conversation came as easily as it always did. You laughed about one of your EMTs somehow locking the ambulance keys inside the rig.
Jack countered with a story about one of his residents accidentally calling him "Dad" in front of an entire trauma team.
"I would've paid money to see that."
"They'll never live it down."
"I certainly won't let them."
The laughter faded into something quieter. Comfortable. Outside, rain tapped softly against the windows. Neither of you seemed in any hurry to leave.
Jack traced the rim of his coffee mug absentmindedly. "I've been thinking."
You smiled. "That sounds dangerous."
"It usually is."
"What've you been thinking about?"
He looked at you. "Us."
Your smile faltered just enough for him to notice. "...Us?"
"Yeah."
You sat back in the booth. "Okay."
Jack exhaled slowly. "I don't really know how to say this."
"That's new."
"I know."
You reached across the table, resting your hand over his. "You don't have to have the perfect words."
He looked down at your hand before meeting your eyes again. "I look for you."
You blinked. "What?"
"Every shift." His thumb brushed lightly against yours. "When I walk into the emergency department, I check the board to see if your unit's working."
Your heart skipped.
"If I hear an ambulance coming in, I hope it's yours." He laughed quietly. "I've gotten pretty good at recognizing your voice before I even see you."
You couldn't help but smile. "I've noticed."
"I look forward to talking to you after work." He hesitated. "I think about telling you things before I tell anyone else."
Your chest tightened.
Jack smiled nervously. "And I think... somewhere along the way..." He looked directly at you. "I fell for you."
The words settled between you.
Neither of you moved.
Neither of you looked away.
A slow smile spread across your face. "You know..."
Jack raised an eyebrow.
"I had this whole speech planned."
"You did?"
"Mhm."
"I was going to tell you that I think you're one of the kindest people I've ever met."
He laughed softly.
"I was going to tell you that watching you work made me understand why everyone in your department respects you."
His cheeks turned pink.
"I was going to tell you that you're infuriating."
"There it is."
"And stubborn."
"Fair."
"And entirely too willing to skip meals."
"I feel attacked."
"You should."
You squeezed his hand. "But mostly..." Your voice became quiet. "I was going to tell you that somewhere between trauma activations, late-night phone calls, and you letting me patch you up after getting grazed..."
You smiled. "I fell for you too."
Jack stared at you. "You did?"
"I did."
He let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "So..."
"So..."
He smiled. "What exactly does this mean?"
You laughed. "I don't know."
"I was hoping you'd know."
"I was hoping *you'd* know."
He shook his head. "So we're both clueless."
"Looks that way."
Jack smiled wider. "I guess I should probably ask if-"
His phone rang. Both of you looked at it. The screen lit up with the hospital's caller ID.
Jack sighed. "No."
You laughed. "Don't tell me."
He answered. "Abbot."
His expression shifted immediately. You could tell before he even spoke again.
Trauma.
Of course.
He listened for another few seconds before hanging up.
"They need me."
You nodded. "I figured."
"I'm sorry."
"So am I."
Neither of you moved.
Jack reached across the table, taking your hand again. "We're not done with this conversation."
You smiled. "No."
"We're finishing it."
"We better."
He stood, tossing a few bills onto the table. "I'll call you after shift."
You raised an eyebrow. "You'd better."
He leaned down, close enough that your foreheads almost touched. "I've waited too long already."
For a split second, you thought he was going to kiss you.
He thought so too. Instead, the shrill tone of your own radio crackled to life from where it sat clipped to your belt.
*"Medic 14, respond..."*
You both froze. Then, almost simultaneously, laughed.
"You've got to be kidding me," you muttered.
Jack rubbed a hand over his face. "I think the universe hates us."
"No," you said, standing and grabbing your jacket. "It just has really bad timing."
You walked out of the diner together, stopping beside your cars.
For a moment, neither of you got in.
Jack smiled. "So..."
"So..."
"We're finishing this later."
You smiled back. "It's a date."
Neither of you realized it.
But that was the first time either of you had called it one.
----
The emergency department was already overflowing when the trauma pager sounded.
"Level One Trauma. ETA three minutes."
Jack glanced up from the chart in his hands. "Who's bringing them?"
One of the nurses looked toward the board. "Medic 14."
A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
Your unit.
Of course.
He slipped a pair of gloves on as the trauma team assembled. "Alright, people. Let's move."
The ambulance backed into the bay moments later. The rear doors flew open. Jack's eyes immediately searched for you. Instead, one of your EMTs jumped out.
He looked... shaken.
Jack frowned.
That wasn't like him.
The stretcher rolled into the trauma bay.
"Thirty-eight-year-old male, trapped in a partial building collapse," your partner reported. "Prolonged extrication, unstable pelvis, diminished breath sounds on the left, hypotensive despite fluids. We initiated blood en route."
Jack listened, but something wasn't right. Your partner was giving report.
Not you.
His eyes flicked toward the ambulance. "Where's Y/N?"
Your EMT hesitated.
Jack's stomach tightened. "Where's Y/N?"
Before anyone answered, another set of ambulance doors slammed shut outside. The entire room seemed to pause. A second stretcher came barreling through the doors.
"Move!"
"Clear the hallway!"
Jack turned instinctively.
Then froze.
You.
You were on the stretcher.
Your uniform shirt had been cut open, blood soaking through the gauze packed against your right side. One side of your face was streaked with dried blood and dust, your oxygen mask fogging with each shallow breath.
For one split second...The room disappeared.
All he saw was you.
Someone beside him started talking. "Medic injured during secondary collapse-"
Jack didn't hear another word.
He was already moving. "What happened?" he demanded, reaching your stretcher.
Your partner answered while keeping pressure on your side. "We got the patient out, and part of the structure gave way. She pushed the patient and me clear."
Jack's jaw clenched. "She took the hit."
"Yeah."
His eyes swept over you in seconds.
Rapid assessment.
Pale.
Diaphoretic.
Labored breathing.
Blood pressure cycling.
Heart rate climbing.
The physician in him took over. "Trauma Two is mine," he said sharply.
Dr. Ellis hesitated. "Dr. Abbot-"
"I said she's mine."
There wasn't a person in the department willing to argue with him. The team wheeled you into the next trauma bay.
"On my count. One, two, three."
You were transferred onto the hospital bed.
Jack was already at your side. "Y/N."
Your eyelids fluttered. "Hey..."
Your voice was barely audible.
He leaned closer. "Stay with me."
You managed the tiniest smile. "Told you..."
He looked down at you.
"...we'd finish..." Your breathing hitched. "...our date."
His heart broke. "You can yell at me later," he said, keeping his voice steady as he examined your injuries. "Right now, I need you to stay with me."
You gave a weak nod. "Can... do."
"Ninety over fifty," a nurse called out.
"Heart rate one-thirty-eight."
"FAST exam ready."
Jack didn't look away from you. "You with me?"
"Mhm."
"Where does it hurt?"
You let out a shaky laugh. "Everywhere."
"I'll take that."
His hands moved with practiced precision as he examined your chest and abdomen.
"Decreased breath sounds on the right."
"Prep for a chest tube."
Your eyes found his. "You look..."
He glanced down.
"...mad."
"I'm focused."
"You look..." Another breath. "...really mad."
Jack looked directly at you. "I'm terrified."
The words slipped out before he could stop them. The room went silent for the briefest moment.
You stared at him through tired eyes. "...Jack..."
He took your hand for exactly one second before getting back to work.
"Not now." He squeezed once. "Later."
His voice hardened-not at you, but at the room. "I need blood in here now."
The trauma team sprang back into motion.
"Portable chest X-ray."
"OR has been notified."
"Type and cross sent."
Jack never left your side. Not once. Even as surgeons arrived. Even as nurses moved around him. Even as the room filled with controlled chaos.
His attention never wavered from you. "Look at me," he said quietly.
You did.
"You remember what you told me after I got grazed?"
A faint smile crossed your lips. "...Shut up..." A weak breath. "...and let me......clean you up."
Jack smiled despite the fear clawing at his chest. "That's right."
"So that's exactly what we're going to do."
You blinked slowly.
"You trust me?"
Even through the pain...Even through the exhaustion...You nodded without hesitation.
"Always."
Your fingers curled weakly around his.
And Jack silently promised himself one thing.
He was going to do everything in his power to make sure the conversation you'd started over lunch wasn't the last one the two of you ever had.
---
The decision was made in seconds.
"Positive FAST."
"She's bleeding."
"OR is ready."
Jack looked from the ultrasound screen back to you. There wasn't another option. You needed surgery. Now.
The trauma surgeon stepped beside him. "We've got her."
Jack's jaw tightened. "I know."
"We've got her."
It was meant to reassure him. It barely registered. The bed began rolling toward the operating room.
Jack walked with you.
One hand never leaving the side rail.
"Hey."
Your eyes fluttered open at the sound of his voice.
"I'm here."
You looked at him through heavy eyelids, trying to smile despite the oxygen mask.
"...Still..." You swallowed. "...our date?"
He let out a laugh that sounded dangerously close to breaking. "Yeah."
"You still owe me dessert."
A weak chuckle escaped you before pain flashed across your face.
Jack immediately squeezed your hand. "No more talking."
"...Bossy."
"You started it."
The automatic doors to the operating suite came into view. This was as far as he could go.
A nurse reached for the stretcher. "We've got it from here, Dr. Abbot."
Jack didn't move. His hand stayed wrapped around yours.
You squeezed weakly. "Jack."
His eyes met yours.
"I'm okay."
He almost laughed.
It was such a ridiculous thing to say while being wheeled into emergency surgery.
"You don't have to lie to me."
"I'm not." Your breathing was shallow. "I'm scared..."
The admission hit him harder than anything else had that night. Because you never admitted when you were scared. You were the calm one. The one reassuring everyone else.
The one telling frightened patients they were going to be okay. Now it was your turn.
Jack stepped closer until he was the only thing in your line of sight. "Look at me."
You did.
"You are going to wake up."
His voice never wavered.
"We're going to finish lunch."
A tear slipped from the corner of your eye.
"We're going to argue over who pays."
A tiny smile.
"You'll lose."
"I probably will."
He brushed a strand of hair away from your forehead. "And then..." He swallowed around the lump forming in his throat. "...then we're going to finish the conversation we started."
You nodded slowly. "...Promise?"
"I promise."
The nurse gently touched his arm. "Doctor..."
He knew.
He had to let go.
Jack leaned down, pressing his forehead against yours for the briefest moment. "I'll be here."
Then...He let your hand go.
The stretcher disappeared through the operating room doors.
The doors closed.
And just like that...
Jack had nothing left to do.
---
He hated waiting.
He always had.
Waiting meant someone else was in control. Waiting meant trusting someone else's hands.
Usually, he was on the other side of those doors. Usually, he was the one families looked at for answers.
Tonight...He understood exactly why they looked so terrified.
Jack paced. Sat down. Stood back up. Paced again.
The nurses in the emergency department had never seen him like this.
Usually, he was the calmest person in the room.
Nothing rattled him. Not mass casualties. Not impossible traumas. Not pediatric arrests.
Nothing.
Tonight, he couldn't stay still.
Dr. Ellis cautiously approached him. "Dr. Abbott?"
Jack looked up.
"Your patient's asking for you in Trauma Three."
For a split second, Jack just stared. Then guilt washed over him.
Right.
He still had patients. The emergency department hadn't stopped because his world had.
"I'll be there."
He wasn't. Not immediately. Instead, he walked to the operating room doors again.
Just...Just in case someone came out.
No one did.
---
Three hours.
Three hours felt like three days.
He checked the surgery board every few minutes. No updates.
He refreshed it again. Nothing.
He tried to read a chart. Couldn't focus. Tried eating the sandwich someone had left beside him. It sat unopened.
One of the nurses walked past. "You should eat."
"I'm not hungry."
"You haven't sat down in an hour."
"I'm fine."
She smiled sadly. "So this is what everyone else's families deal with."
Jack looked at her. "What?"
"You always tell them surgery takes time." She folded her arms. "You always tell them no news is good news."
Jack looked back toward the operating rooms. "I know."
"But it's different."
She nodded. "I figured."
---
Eventually, Robby walked over, two cups of coffee in his hands.
Without asking, he handed one to Jack. "You look awful."
"I feel worse."
Robby leaned against the wall beside him. "How bad?"
Jack didn't answer right away. Finally, he admitted quietly, "I've watched people I love get hurt before."
Robby glanced over.
"But this..." Jack stared at the closed doors. "...I've never been on this side."
His voice cracked just enough for Robby to notice. "I can't fix it." He laughed bitterly.
"I don't even know what's happening in there." He rubbed both hands over his face. "I don't know if she's okay."
The words finally escaped him.
Raw.
Honest.
"I don't know if she's awake. I don't know if she's scared. I don't know if she's hurting."
He looked down at the untouched coffee. "And it is driving me absolutely insane."
Robby was quiet for a moment. Then he said softly, "You love her."
Jack closed his eyes. There wasn't any point denying it anymore. "...Yeah."
The single word barely made it above a whisper.
"I do."
As if on cue...The operating room doors finally opened.
Every muscle in Jack's body tensed.
He was already halfway across the hallway before the surgeon had even taken off his mask.
"How is she?"
The surgeon smiled. "The surgery went well."
Jack felt his knees nearly give out with relief.
"We controlled the bleeding. No major vascular injury. She's going to be sore for a while, and she'll have a long recovery, but..." He smiled again. "She's going to be okay."
Jack closed his eyes.
For the first time all night...He could finally breathe.
The surgeon put a hand on his shoulder.
"They're taking her to recovery now."
Jack nodded once. "When can I see her?"
The surgeon smiled knowingly. "I had a feeling you'd ask that. A little while."
Jack looked through the small window in the OR doors as your bed was wheeled toward recovery.
He rested one hand against the glass. "Take your time," he whispered, knowing you couldn't hear him. "I'll still be here."
Because for the first time in his life...
There wasn't anywhere else he'd rather be.
----
Recovery was quiet.
The frantic pace of the emergency department couldn't reach this part of the hospital.
No trauma pagers.
No ambulance radios.
Just the steady rhythm of cardiac monitors and the occasional murmur of nurses moving from room to room. Jack had changed out of his blood-stained scrub top hours ago, but he still looked like he'd been through the collapse himself.
His hair was a mess from running his hands through it all night.
His coffee had long since gone cold.
He hadn't noticed.
A PACU nurse stepped out into the hallway. "Dr. Abbot?"
Jack was on his feet before she'd finished saying his name.
"She's asking for you."
He didn't realize he'd been holding his breath until that moment. "Can I-"
The nurse smiled knowingly. "You've got about five minutes before I come kick you out."
"Thank you."
He didn't walk.
He practically sprinted.
---
The room was dimly lit.
You looked... different.
Paler.
An IV hung beside the bed. A monitor quietly tracked your heart rate. There was oxygen tubing resting beneath your nose, and a thick blanket covered you up to your chest.
But you were awake.
Your eyes drifted toward the door as it opened.
They landed on Jack. A sleepy smile spread across your face. "...Hey."
Jack stopped just inside the room. For a moment...He couldn't move.
Seeing you unconscious had been terrifying. Seeing you awake somehow made everything he'd been holding in hit him all at once.
"You scared the hell out of me."
Your smile faltered. "I know."
He crossed the room slowly until he reached your bedside. "You weren't supposed to be the patient."
You let out a weak laugh. "I wasn't planning on it."
"No?"
"No."
He shook his head. "I liked you a lot better when you were bossing me around."
"You like being bossed around."
"I tolerate it."
"You secretly love it."
"I'll never admit that."
A small laugh escaped you before you winced.
Jack immediately leaned forward. "Easy."
"I'm okay."
"You literally just had surgery."
"I know."
"So maybe don't laugh."
"I'll do my best."
Silence settled between you. Jack reached for the chair beside your bed but didn't sit. Instead, he gently took your hand. Carefully.
As though he was afraid you might disappear if he held on too tightly.
Your fingers curled around his automatically. "You stayed."
He looked at you like the question didn't even make sense. "Of course I stayed."
"You've probably been here all day."
"I have."
"You should've gone home."
He almost laughed. "And leave?"
You shrugged as much as your sore body would allow. "You had patients."
"I took care of them."
"You had charts."
"I finished them."
"You probably haven't slept."
"No."
"Eaten?"
"..."
You smiled knowingly. "Jack."
"I had half a granola bar."
"That doesn't count."
"It counted enough."
You squeezed his hand. "You always tell your patients to take care of themselves."
"I know."
"You should listen to yourself sometime."
"I know."
"But..." He looked down at your intertwined hands. "I couldn't leave."
The room fell quiet again.
His thumb absentmindedly brushed across your knuckles. "I kept thinking..." He hesitated. "What if the last thing I ever said to you was that we'd finish lunch later?"
Your expression softened. "Jack..."
"What if we'd never finished that conversation?"
His voice cracked.
Barely.
But you heard it.
"I didn't get to tell you..." He stopped.
You waited.
"I didn't get to tell you that I was going to kiss you."
Your breath caught.
He finally looked up. "At the diner."
You blinked.
"When your radio went off."
"I know."
"I'd already decided."
A tear slipped down your cheek before you could stop it.
Jack frowned. "Hey..."
"I thought..." You swallowed hard. "When everything happened..." Your voice trembled. "I thought I wasn't going to get to see you again."
"You are."
"I know."
"But I was scared."
"I know."
"No." You shook your head carefully. "I was terrified."
Jack moved closer. "So was I."
The admission hung in the room.
"I've never been that scared before." You looked into his eyes. "I saw you."
He frowned slightly. "What?"
"Before they took me upstairs." Your voice was barely above a whisper. "You were trying so hard to stay calm."
A sad smile crossed his face. "I wasn't doing a very good job."
"You were."
"I was falling apart."
"You hid it."
"Barely."
You reached up with your free hand. It took more effort than it normally would. Jack met you halfway, letting your fingertips rest against his cheek.
His eyes closed instinctively.
"You know what I thought?" you whispered.
"What?"
"I thought..." A tired smile spread across your face. "...there's my home."
Jack opened his eyes. Every wall he'd built over years in emergency medicine, every bit of emotional distance he'd learned to survive with, crumbled in an instant.
He leaned down until your foreheads rested together. "I love you."
The words came so quietly they were almost lost in the hum of the monitor.
No hesitation.
No overthinking.
Just the truth.
"I love you too." You smiled through the tears. "I think I've loved you for longer than I realized."
A soft laugh escaped him. "Me too."
For a long moment, neither of you said anything. There was nothing left to say. Jack slowly lifted his head, giving you every opportunity to stop him.
You didn't.
Instead, you smiled.
"So..."
"So?"
"Are you finally going to kiss me?"
A grin spread across his face. "I thought you'd never ask."
He leaned in slowly. Carefully.
As though he was afraid even now that he might somehow hurt you. His lips met yours in the gentlest kiss either of you had ever shared.
It wasn't dramatic.
It wasn't rushed.
It was quiet.
Warm.
Certain.
When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours again. "That was worth waiting for."
You smiled sleepily. "It was."
A knock sounded softly on the open door. Neither of you moved.
The nurse standing outside smiled to herself. "I hate to interrupt..."
Jack laughed quietly. "You've got to stop doing that."
The nurse grinned. "I'll give you two another minute."
She disappeared back into the hallway.
You looked at Jack. "Think everyone knows now?"
He smiled. "I'm pretty sure they figured it out before we did."
You laughed softly. "I think you're right."
Outside the room, two PACU nurses exchanged amused looks.
"Took them long enough," one whispered.
The other nodded. "I've never seen Dr. Abbot sit still for eight hours."
"Neither have I." She glanced through the window at the two of you, still holding hands. "I don't think he's letting go anytime soon."
She wasn't wrong.
Jack had spent the entire day terrified of losing you.
Now that you were awake, he had no intention of letting your hand leave his.
firelord!zuko: jealous-type
having retreated from the main chatter of the ball zuko had been hosting, you refill your drink, eyes roaming around the room and catching your breath.
such evenings always got so exhausting, you wondered how many you'd have to live through, but alas you'd do it anyday for the sake of your beloved.
some guy, probably, definitely an officer from the neighbouring earth nation is speaking to you. you can't quite recall what he's saying yet you do feel guilty for not listening. so when at some point, he tells a joke and starts laughing, you do too.
to cover up it's dishonest nature, you tip your head back taking a small swig of your drink and your eyes meet a fiery blaze.
zuko's surrounded by people talking about future plans for the fire nation, no doubt being briefed on far more important things but his eyes are on you.
the laugh you just shared doesn't escape his notice either. you gulp, looking away trying to conclude the conversation infront of you. honestly, in your defense, the guy was mostly aloof and seeing at your lack of response and his continued chatter he wouldn't have minded talking to a wall.
you understood that, but ofcourse..
feeling a palm on your waist you look up to zuko's form towering over you, "do excuse us" he smiles, pulled tight at the corners "i must discuss something with my wife"
I’m not flirting 🫣 I’m just naturally this tempting 😛
❤︎ MY SECRET SPOT ❤︎
