❝ 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ❞ — 𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐀𝐁𝐁𝐎𝐓 𝐱 𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑
PAIRING ➢ jack abbot x paramedic! male reader
SYNOPSIS ➢ Working as a paramedic in Pittsburgh meant long and thankless shifts, but at this point you were used to it. It helped that you had a handsome doctor to look forward to seeing during handoffs at the ER, although it had never gone beyond a handful of glimpses or a brush of your hands. Until now.
CONTENT WARNING ➢ no use of y/n, men flirting, reader is almost as old as jack, old man yaoi, reader is divorced, tiny bit of angst if you squint, canon-level gore, incorrect medical terms, incorrect police terms, cops (ACAB though)
WORD COUNT ➢ 4.8 k
AUTHORS NOTE ➢ I’ve been watching way too much of The Rookie so I used that so much this is now bordering on being a crossover lol and I was also inspired by @lilyswritings paramedic x jack abbot fic, have fun with this one!
MASTERLIST, TAGLIST
FEMALE DNI !!!
The life of a paramedic was a hectic and unforgiving one. Late nights, high tempo, stressful shifts, short and rare breaks, and very few thanks. A lot of your patients were in too much pain to be coherent and others were just downright rude, often forgoing the niceties. There really was no feeling like when you had just saved someone from a painful wound and they thanked you with a scowl, and then rushed out of the ambulance as soon as you arrived at the hospital. It takes a high toll on a person to put up with that sort of treatment for years on end. You had gotten used to it, though, having done it for as long as you had.
It’s one of those late nights when the radio crackled to life, dispatch beginning to rattle of the address of your next patient. Your hand moved as if on instinct, barely having to think before your fingers closed around the receiver and beginning to speak into it.
“Dispatch, this is RA-213 responding, we’re en route.” You gave a curt nod to your partner, Bailey, as she flickered on the ambulance lights and steered the vehicle down the right street.
You didn’t have to glance her way to know she was sporting a grin on her face, watching you from the corner of her eye with the sort of knowing glint in it that only comes from having spent way too many hours in close quarters with someone. You’re thankful that she didn’t say the words that were no doubt on her mind as she pulled down another side street.
As you arrived at the scene, you and her made quick work with the patient, who had been shot in the shoulder. She spoke in low and soothing tones with him as she stabilised him and his wound while you watched her in the back mirror with an amused smile. She was a nice kid, a natural with all the patients, and you admired her.
“Hey, speed bump coming up,” you called, slowing down the ambulance as much as you could before speeding up again, the lights on so all the cars would swerve out of your way. There was a sort of rush to this that you were addicted to; to the speed and the hurry and the feeling of accomplishment that filled you whenever you had saved someone. Despite all the drawbacks, you wouldn’t change it for anything.
As you pulled into the ambulance bay, you hopped out of the driver’s seat to help Bailey pull the gurney through the hospital doors. The usual stress of the Pitt met you with open arms as doctors and nurses rushed forward to take the patient of your hands.
“We got it,” Shen said and you nodded a thanks to him. When they rushed away to a trauma room, Bailey going with them to give them the full report, you took a breath to dust yourself off, eyes trailing the ER. That’s when you caught sight of him.
Jack was standing by the nurse’s reception, leaning on his forearms as he spoke to one of the nurses, nodding along to whatever she was saying. Then, as if drawn by a magnet, his gaze lifts and settles on you with such heaviness that it makes your step falter. The corner of his lip lifts into the small smirk you’ve gotten to know so well over the past couple of months.
It’s been a while of these almost-moments, as you liked to call them. The brushes of hands and shoulders during handoffs, barely touching but still there, enough to make something stir within you. His eyes were addicting to look into and he spoke with a kind of calm and steady voice that felt weirdly reassuring. What kind of power Jack Abbot possessed, you didn’t know, but he had made an impression so strong you couldn’t help but search him out whenever you were in the same room as him.
The intensity of his gaze made you avert your eyes, schooling your features into indifference as you scratched the back of your neck, looking for anything to keep you busy. That’s when you spotted Bailey coming out of the trauma room and cocking her head for you to follow her, throwing one last glance behind you. You felt your cheeks start to heat up when Jack’s gaze is still settled on you, his head tilted, as if he’s thinking. You couldn't help but wonder about what.
The usual rhythm of the ER continued behind you, monitors beeping and voices overlapping, unaware of the spiral Abbot had just sent you into. Part of you felt frustrated, feeling as if you were a teenager with a crush again. Another part couldn’t wait until next time you would be staring into those hazel eyes.
“Hey, you good?” Came Bailey’s voice from beside you, watching you with careful eyes as the two of you stepped out into the silence of the ambulance bay. It was a drastic contrast from the chaos of the Pitt, the only sound coming from the empty gurney you two are pushing.
“Yeah, ‘course,” you responded, voice gruff with disuse, pushing the empty gurney back into the ambulance.
“You know,” she said, drawing out the words as if she had all the time in the world, as you sat yourself behind the wheel, “it’s so interesting that out of all the hospitals in Pittsburgh we always end up going to PTMC.”
You ignored her’s obvious grin as you pull out of the bay and into traffic. “Yeah, real fucking interesting,” you muttered.
You could feel her gaze without even having to turn your head. “There are probably other hospitals who are less busy.”
“The Pitt’s good.”
“A lot of other hospitals are good,” Bailey countered.
“The Pitt’s closest.”
“Not always—”
You scoff, tired of her commentary. “Bailey, I won’t be entertaining this,” you said, settling her with a glare that you know will shut her up. She knew the use of her first name meant you were serious.
She might be a grown woman, but God could she tease you like nothing else. Supposed it came with the job, and being in such close proximity with each other for such long shifts, that you would push each other’s buttons every once in a while.
“Mhm, sure.”
You hated the way she said it, all self-assured and smug as if she knew exactly what you were thinking about. Or, rather, who you were thinking about. You merely rolled your eyes at her, grabbing the receiver when the radio sparked to life again, ready for the next oncoming patient.
———
“RA-213, we have a call incoming of a shooter situation on Headingley 13. Officer down, other officers already on scene. You’re closest,” the dispatcher said, her voice coming through tinny in the radio but it was clear as day when it reached your ears.
“Got it. RA-213 en route,” you said, your fingers tightening around the receiver. You glanced at Bailey, noticing her furrowed brows as she sped up the ambulance and turned on the red lights. Her fingers were clenched around the wheel, her knuckles white and you saw her starting to chew on her lips in that nervous tick of hers you had noticed.
You knew her fiancé worked in the police force, so any call about an officer hurt had her tensing up and worrying out of her mind.
“It’s gonna be alright, kid,” you offered helplessly and she nodded, but did not lessen her grip you noticed. She stopped the ambulance an inch from the curb, rushing out to greet the police officers, you only a step behind her. What greeted you were not only the normally uniformed Pittsburgh police officers, but also a team of army-clad SWAT team, all with the word ‘POLICE’ written on them.
You hurried the gurney forward to where they were bent around a figure on the ground, kneeling down as your eyes jumping all over the place to assess the situation and the wounds. Bailey was right behind you with the medic’s bag on her shoulder while she kneeled beside you. You were glad to see that the wounded was not someone you knew.
“What have we got?” you asked, gloved hands immediately beginning to assess the patient. You noticed the blood on his neck, and the intubated balloon was connected through his throat.
“Intubated neck wound, bleeding stopped for now, don’t know the sats,” a voice opposite you said. You looked up at the familiarity of it and saw none other than Jack Abbot, and in a military uniform no less. His bloodstained hands were grasping the man on the ground, squeezing the intubation balloon and the air into his lungs, before he glanced up with a softening gaze. He gave you a quick smile that made his eyes crinkle before he glanced back down to the patient. “My buddy, Officer Hiro, high-velocity GSW. He’s getting harder to bag.”
Bailey nudged you in the side and you huffed your response, “Nune, help me get him onto the gurney.” She nodded as she followed your lead, lifting the man on the count of three. “Could you see the cords?”
“Yeah, had a great view but it was hard to pass after I cleared them,” Jack replied.
“Alright, we need to get Officer Hiro into a hospital immediately. Let’s go!” It would be good to have the medic who made the intubation with you so you could ask follow up questions, and an extra pair of hands—no other reason you wanted Jack to come with you.
You looked at Jack, tilting your head. “Okay, Abbot, you’re with me. The rest can follow in the car behind us.” He opened his mouth but answered with a prompt nod. You gestured for Abbot to follow you, as you pushed the gurney into the ambulance together and he kept squeezing the intubation balloon, Bailey rushing to sit down in the driver’s seat.
When you had secured the gurney, you sat down beside it, opposite to Jack and Bailey started the ambulance immediately. Your hands moved as if a mind of their own, already hooking him up to the IV and your computer so you could see the status of Officer Hiro.
“Sats aren’t great,” you said.
When you glanced up, you saw that Jack was already looking at you and something stirred in your chest again. He didn’t even hide the way he was looking at you, taking in every detail of your face to your figure and you tried not to squirm under his gaze. Instead, you took the opportunity to look at him, too, noticing the wrinkles on his forehead, his salt and pepper curls, that small smirk that tried to drag one out of you as well.
A groan from Hiro interrupted whatever it was you two were doing and your hand went up to scratch your neck guiltily, casting a glance to him and clearing your throat.
“Okay, care to tell me what happened?”
“Geniuses thought today was the day to rob a goods warehouse,” Jack said, leaning forward, one hand still squeezing the balloon. “Didn’t think about how long it would take to load the appliances. They panicked. All hell broke loose.”
You let out a dry chuckle despite yourself, keeping a close eye on the monitor. “No kidding. So, you did this intubation?”
Jack glanced over his shoulder, frowning before answering, “Under active fire, yeah.”
“Are you serious?” you asked with raised eyebrows.
“I go in with the team in case there’s an injury,” he said, seeming as if it was the most normal thing in the world.
Your mouth curved faintly. “That’s impressive, Abbot.”
“Hmm, it’s nothing.” He shrugged, looking away bashfully. “Needed a hobby.”
“If you say so.” When the entire ambulance shook, your fingers tightened against the gurney to brace yourself. A quick glance shot Jack’s way told you he was good, also bracing himself from the violent motion. You turned to the front of the ambulance. “Hey, Nune, take it easy on the potholes!”
“Sorry, sir!” came her reply.
You let out an amused sigh. “How many times do I need to tell you, you don’t have to call me sir.”
“Yeah,” she said, the smile evident in her voice. “But it just comes naturally because you’re so much…”
“Don’t you dare say older,” you interrupted, one stern finger raised in her direction.
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
“I may be old but I could still beat you in a fight.
She glanced at you from the back mirror and you could see the thinly disguised glee hidden in her gaze, making you sigh and mutter a curse underneath your breath. The only noise came from the intubation balloon as Jack kept squeezing it. When you met his gaze you only saw it being filled with amusement and something you couldn’t quite place.
You blew out a breath, chuckling dryly as you said, “Sorry about that.”
“No, it’s okay,” he said, his head tilting back slightly. “It’s nice to see you like this.”
You grimaced. “Not the best circumstances.”
“Mm, no.” He paused, glancing between you and the officer. Then, his mouth curved lightly. “Say, would you like to get drinks sometime? Outside of any medical emergencies, in better circumstances?”
You met his eye, feeling your heart beating in your throat, trying to discern what he meant by that. You couldn’t keep the warmth that spread up your neck at bay, hoping that he wouldn’t notice your blush. Was he interested in you the same way you were interested in him? His lingering touches and glances did point in that direction, but you couldn’t know for sure.
Your eyes narrowed, head tilted to the side. He shifted as he moved to sit more comfortably, his uniform creasing around the well-trained muscles in his arms. “Depends, will you be in that uniform?”
That caused a spark to light in his eyes and his lips to quirk upward. He did look really good in it. “I’m open to the idea,” he said.
You merely hummed at that, choosing to avoid his meaningful glances the rest of the ride. But it didn’t take long until you arrived at the Pitt’s ambulance bay and for the doctors there to take over the patient from you. Jack glanced back once to send you a curt nod before they all went inside the doors.
You felt more than saw Bailey lean against the ambulance beside you, her head tilted to the side.
“He was flirting with you,” she said. You frowned, forcing your eyes from the doors Jack had just gone through.
“He was not.”
“He so was. And you were flirting back,” she said with her eyebrows raised meaningfully.
Bailey nudged your side with her elbow, sending you a playful wink. God, she was incorrigible. Still, you couldn’t fight the smile that wanted to form against your lips. When she saw it, her smile widened and you rolled your eyes at her.
“Shut up and get into the ambulance,” you barked. “We’re still on the clock.”
“Sir, yes, sir.”
———
You hadn’t seen Jack since that afternoon but his words still played inside your head like a broken record.
The way he had glanced over you, eyes boring into yours with an intensity only a war veteran and doctor could have, which had you contemplating every look afterwards. You hoped you weren’t as transparent as you felt but you had an inkling that Jack could read you better than most—as if he had spent hours analysing you, trying to dissect your mannerisms and actions, your words and your grimaces. The thought that he could have paid that much attention to you all along made warmth spread up your neck.
All that was forgotten as you and Bailey rushed onto the current scene, parking the ambulance as Bailey rushed forward to the teenage girl sitting on the grass, you close behind her with your medic bag, throwing a small nod to the officers standing beside her.
“Hey, Olivia,” Bailey started, “I’m Bailey. We’re going to take care of you, alright? Where are you hurt?”
The girl unwound herself from the blanket, glancing between Bailey and you. “Um, my— my eye and my leg and my arm.”
“Okay, I see that.”
You nodded while starting to inspect her injuries. Nothing immediate, you noted. It could wait until you were in the ambulance en route to the hospital. You looked at Bailey, saying, “Even so, we still need to take her to the hospital to make sure there are no internal injuries.”
“Yeah, sure.”
You looked to the nearest officer. “Need anything else?”
He shook his head. “No, she did great.” Then he turned to Olivia, his jaw tensing. “We’re gonna find him.”
“Alright, Olivia, let’s get going,” you said, starting to lead her and Bailey back to your ambulance.
You had kept tabs of this case the entire day, thanks to Bailey’s close relationship with one of the officers on the case. Olivia had just escaped her best friend’s former boss and murderer, and her own paramour, and was probably deeply traumatised. You kept your voice smooth and calm, your movements slow to make sure she wasn’t spooked. You had dealt with lots of people like this and it was important to keep a level head.
You kept light conversation with her as you cleaned and bandaged her scrapes and shallow wounds, Bailey driving as fast as she possibly could. Olivia’s eyes kept jumping back and forth with a nervousness that you couldn’t help but pity. Poor girl, you thought.
Suddenly the radio sparked to life, but it wasn’t dispatch. “RA-213, this is 7-Adam-15. You copy?”
You looked to the front of the vehicle as Bailey responded to the call. “Copy, Adam-15. John, what’s up?”
“Be advised, when you get to the hospital, we got a 10-15.”
You glanced back at Olivia, trying to keep your face from showing any signs of anything amiss. That code meant that the patient was no longer a victim, but a suspect in the case. Bailey glanced at you in the back mirror, hesitating before speaking into the receiver.
“Copy that,” she said. “Thanks for letting us know.”
Olivia turned around on the gurney, glancing to the front. “What’s that mean, 10-15?” she asked.
Bailey made a small surprised sound before replying, “It means that the police are gonna meet us in the ambulance bay.”
“It’s for your safety,” you added, a warm smile on your face.
“Oh.”
Good girl, you thought. You couldn’t let it be known to Olivia that she was now a suspect. But something must have shown on your face that made her suspect something was wrong, because one minute she was sitting on the gurney, curled up like a wounded animal, the other cried out, a throbbing pain in your head while your vision was getting clouded by the blood that started to seep into your eyes.
When Bailey had finally managed to stop the ambulance and pressed towels to your wound, Olivia was nowhere to be seen. You gritted your teeth in frustration just as a patrol car showed up.
“What happened?” the police officers asked.
Bailey grimaced, offering up an apologetic smile. “She heard Nolan on the radio, realised something was up and ran into the neighbourhood.”
The officers started turning around, nodding curtly, when you felt a missing weight in your belt. Your field knife, you thought. She must have swiped it when she tried to knock you out. Your voice shot out to the officers, “She got my knife.”
They shared a worried glance between themselves before pressing the radio to talk to their dispatcher.
“Control, 7-Adam-100 in pursuit of a Caucasian female, Olivia Lane. Requesting backup and airship. Suspect armed with a knife,” the taller of the two said. He looked at you, his hand on the gun in his belt. “You guys good to go?”
You nodded, waving them away with what you were sure looked like a tired gesture, but you just wanted them to stop bothering you and go find the suspect. “Yes, yes, we’re fine,” you muttered.
You put down the towels from your head, seeing the amount of blood and sighed. Forehead wounds had an annoying habit of bleeding a lot but weren’t all that dangerous, at least not ones as shallow as this. You braced your hands on your knees as you made to stand up just as Bailey got back into the ambulance, one surprisingly strong arm pushing you down into your seat again.
“Nuh, uh,” she said, her voice uncharacteristically serious. “You’re not going anywhere.”
“Nune, we got a job to do and other calls to take,” you protested while rolling your eyes. She couldn’t be serious, could she?
She settled you with a glare. “You’re hurt, we need to get you to a hospital.”
You gestured to the toolkits and bandages around you. “You could just patch me up right here, there’s no need for the hospital.”
“We’re going, and that’s final. We need to check for internal trauma.”
You watched as she stepped around you, closing the ambulance doors as she sat herself down in the driver’s seat, starting up the ambulance on the way to the hospital. You grumbled, but went up to sit beside her in the passenger seat.
“I hate this side of you,” you remarked.
“You love it,” she replied, impossible to deter once she had put her mind to something.
She was right, however, she was admirably hard-headed which was usually a good thing. In this sense, it wasn’t, though. You knew you couldn’t get cleared to get back to work unless you were checked out by a proper doctor, but the fact annoyed you when you feared you’d run into the man you happened to not have responded to since your last meeting.
It didn’t take long to arrive at the Pitt’s ambulance bay and Bailey pulling you out of the ambulance with her grip around your arm. It felt weird to be pulled by a woman half your age, like you were a child who had misbehaved in front of their mom, but you had no choice but to comply, with a half muttered curse here and there. When you stepped into the ER, a nurse took one glance at your face and immediately directed you to a nearby trauma room, saying that a doctor would be with you soon.
“Really, Nune, this is not needed,” you said again in the faint hope that she would let you go now that you had already made it into the hospital, although the chances of that looked slimmer by the minute.
She slapped your arm again and rolled her eyes. “Shut up and just accept the help.”
You muttered something unintelligible, refusing to meet her judging glare. Before long, the curtain of your room was pulled aside and in walked Doctor Jack Abbot. He was back in his classic black doctor scrubs, the ones you were so used to seeing him in, and sporting an amused smiled when he looked you over.
“You know,” he began, glancing down at his clipboard before meeting your gaze, “there are easier ways to reach me than bashing your head in.”
You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms across your chest when Bailey helpfully stepped in. “Afraid it was a teenage girl who did all the bashing,” she said, a smug smile plastered on her face. She looked over her shoulder at you.
“Thank you for that, Bailey,” you said between gritted teeth. “You can go.”
Her smile showed all teeth, ignoring the hand you waved her away with. “I’ll be right around the corner,” she called.
Bailey leaving the room meant that your eyes had nowhere else to go except for to Jack, which wasn’t that much of the reprieve you wished it would be. His calculating gaze settled solely on you, letting you see the amused glint hiding in those eyes of his.
“So,” he drawled, sitting himself down on the edge of the bed. “A teenage girl, huh?”
“Shut up.”
Jack let out a dry chuckle, looking at you through his half-lidded gaze.“Maybe you’re getting too old for the job.”
You grimaced and let out a scoff. “You’re one to talk. You look just as old as I do.”
“Please, I look great,” he said, the corners of his mouth lifting.
You scoffed, glancing away from the handsome doctor by your side. “Don’t you have anything more serious to deal with, doc?”
“Got nowhere else I’d rather be.” He shrugged while he stood up, throwing a glance your way. You watched him walk around the room, putting on gloves and preparing tape and bandage to dress your wound. “Gotta make sure you survive this. After all, what would we doctors do without you EMTs?”
“Touché,” you relented. He sat back down beside you, leaning forward to start cleaning your wound. You couldn’t help but notice the warmth of his presence nor the smell of him boring into the sterile surface of this hospital room, something that had you wishing to be even closer to the man. “Guess a thanks is in order,” you said.
He leant back slightly to look at you fully, tilting his head in thought, half a smile curving his mouth. “I could buy you that drink you’ve been avoiding.”
That made a raging guilt burn within you, causing you to look away in shame. Fuck, he had noticed how you had avoided him. You opened your mouth, trying to find a way to explain yourself, “Listen, about that—”
“It’s fine if you’re not interested,” he interrupted you, his face devoid of any emotion as he concentrated on your wound. You tried to catch his gaze but he was refusing to look further down
“That’s not it.”
“I mean, I wouldn’t blame you.”
You grabbed his arm, feeling the muscles tense underneath your touch. He finally looked down and met your gaze and you were surprised by the vulnerability hiding there. “Abbot,” you said. “Shut the fuck up. I swear you’re worse than Nune.”
His head tilted to the side, a small frown making its way onto his forehead. “I take that’s a good thing?”
“No.”
At that, Jack shrugged and let out a small laugh. “Maybe I misread something—” he began.
You tensed your grip one his arm to get him to stop talking again. “You didn’t misread shit. Listen, Abbot,” you said, rubbing a hand over the bridge of your nose. For a man so intelligent and clever, he sure as hell could be dense. “I am interested in you” you grumbled out. “More than you know. It’s just…”
“What?”
Your mouth fell into a crooked smile as you spoke. “I went through a lot in my divorce and it’s been hard trying to get over that.”
His brows raised but he nodded quickly. “But you are over it?”
“Technically, yes,” you said but you couldn’t withhold the slight grimace that formed on your face. “But I guess the ghosts still haunt me.”
Jack leant back, sighing. “I also have my fair share of ghosts.” He held up his left hand and you thought you saw the imprint of a ring on his ring finger. He pressed his lips together in a small smile. “My wife passed away a few years ago.”
Your hand reached out for his arm again, but this time it was for a reassuring squeeze, “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“It’s okay,” he said. Then he leant closer to begin dressing the cut on your forehead. “Besides, I’m not asking to get married, only for a drink.”
Your eyes narrowed at him, watching the way his face scrunched in concentration when he tended to your forehead. Every time his eyes glanced down to your eyes, the corner of his lips lifted ever so slightly. That earnest look in his eye told you everything you needed to know and you felt the threads of your resolve start to loosen.
“Okay,” you agreed, “one drink.”
Jack’s smile widened which sent a spark right into your chest.“You’re a hard-won man.”
“Promise I’m worth it.”
“Oh, I don’t doubt it.” He finally leant away from you, letting his fingers glide over your forehead one last time with a satisfied hum. “You’re all set, cowboy.”
You looked up to him quickly. “I’m good to get back to work?”
He couldn’t help the little chuckle he let out. “As long as you don’t come back here with another cut on your head.”
You pursed your lips, smiling in the most charming way you knew how. “What if I want to see you again?”
“Then call me,” he said, his voice suddenly serious. He reached forward, handing you a small note which you saw had his phone number on it. “Do not get yourself hurt.”
Your smile widened at his words. “So caring, doctor.”
Jack sent you a small wink, one that sent warmth rising up to your neck and swirling down into your stomach. “Only for you.”
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