taglist ⢠rules ⢠who I write for ⢠masterlist
get to know me ࣪ Ö“Ö¶Öøā¾.
lil ā 20 ā she/her ā daydreamer ā old man luvr ā horror is the best genre ā jack abbot enthusiast ā fuck AI ā secretly batman ā tortured poet ā Ā #1 resident evil fan ā dms are always open
Jackieš„°: off to work, hope you have a great day my loveā¤ļø
You: š¤¤š¤¤š¤¤š¤¤š¤¤
You: wow, how dare you just send me this without any warningš¦š¦ the uniform stays ON
You: love you so muchhhhhhhhhhhhhhhš¤¤
Jackieš„°: ugh, my babyās so dramaticš
āāāāā
Monday, 10:30 a.m
Samira BFFšÆāāļø: [photo attached]
Samira BFFšÆāāļø: come get your man, earlier I accidentally saw him shirtlessā¦ā¦ā¦.
You: ā¦ā¦..
You: how dare he look sooooooo good at work?š¦
Samira BFFšÆāāļø: ew𤢠lol
Samira BFFšÆāāļø: youāre my parents tho!
You: thank you for this! Iāll jump him when he comes homeš
Samira BFFšÆāāļø: at your service š«” but I didnāt want to imagine my attending banging my best friendā¦ā¦
You: šš
āāāāāā
Monday, 10:33 a.m
You: why were you shirtless at work???? And why did Samira send me the most amazing picture of you, looking delicious, AT WORK???
Jackieš„°: I was all sweaty so I was changing my shirt when she walked inā¦
You: just come home already⦠need you so badš¤¤
You: canāt stop thinking about you in that uniformš¦
Jackieš„°: ā¦
Jackieš„°: will be home soon;)
āāāāāā
Monday, 15:30 a.m
You hear the front door open and close, heavy boots slapping the floor after being taken off. Youāre in the bedroom watching TV and waiting for Jack to come into the room.
āHi, love.ā You see Jack at the bedroom door, heās wearing his police camouflage outfit.
āUgh, just come here.ā You beg. Youāve been waiting the whole day to have him, needy as hell after seeing the pictures he and Samira sent you. You loved when he wore his work clothes, he looked so good in his scrubs but this outfit? This outfit had you salivating. āYouāve taken too long to get here.ā You groan once he gets near you.
āMy babyās been needy huh? Itās all the uniform, isnāt it?ā He asks and cups your face with his rough hands, pulling you towards him and kissing you deeply. You both moan at the much needed contact.
āPlease, Jack, I need youā¦ā you beg once he proceeds to kiss your neck, down towards your breasts, pulling up the shirt, his shirt, youāre wearing, groaning at the sight of your pierced nipples.
āLove these so much.ā He says, twirling your piercings in his fingers. At first he didnāt really like that you got them pierced, not that he hated them, he absolutely loved them, but the fact that he couldnāt play with your tits while they healed, killed him. So now, he takes his time to take good care of them with his mouth and fingers, absolutely adoring the sight of them.
Youāre already a moaning mess, grabbing and pulling his hair while he sucks. Slowly pushing him lower until heās met with your lacy black thong, groaning at the sight of your wet core.
āBeen waiting for me huh?ā He teases, putting his nose onto your core and inhaling, whimpering at the musky scent. He starts eating you out through the wet fabric, wetting it even more than before, pulling your thong from behind to make it dig into your pussy lips. You canāt stop grinding your hips into his face, begging him to take them off. When he finally does, he puts them in his back pocket, for later use, and digs back in. The sensation is overwhelming, youāre unbelievably wet, sloppy sounds coming from the way his tongue meets with your wet center, his fingers burying themselves into you, his mouth sucking on your clit.
āIām coming, Iām comingā¦ā you whimper, grinding harder on his face, until release finally comes. He helps you ride it out, kissing you gently on your core and inner thighs.
āSo good, such a good girl.ā He says, coming up from between your legs, face wet, grinning hard. You notice the huge tent in his pants and smirk.
āSomeoneās excited, isnāt he?ā You crawl towards him on the bed, burying your face in his crotch, that is at eye level now that heās standing. You inhale and kiss him through the pants, noticing the little dark stain there. āOhā¦ā you smirk, looking up at him. āPlease, daddy, fuck me already.ā You beg into his crotch. Once the ādaddyā word comes out of your mouth, his cock twitches and he groans. āPlease, just donāt take off theā¦ā you canāt even finish the sentence before he throws you back onto the bed and pulls you closer to him by your ankles.
āOk, baby, I wonāt take my clothes off, but youāll have to be a good girl for me and take it all ok?ā He says while he unbuckles his pants, freeing his angry and leaky cock. Youāre to focused on his movements that you forget to respond to him. āDo you understand baby? Will you take it all like the good girl you are?ā He asks again and you nod instantly.
He slaps his cock against your clit and rubs it between your folds a few times, wetting it, before slamming into you. You both moan in sync. He lays on top of you and starts moving in and out at a fast pace. You grab onto his hard shoulders, moaning into his neck while he pounds into you.
āYouāre doing so well for daddy, such a good babyā¦ā he says, groaning into your ear. Youāre so close to coming... Suddenly he gets out of you and you whine at the loss. āGet on your knees.ā He commands. You get on your knees and elbows, wiggling your ass at him while he takes off his outer jacket, throwing it at you, leaving him with a sweaty long sleeve shirt. You love seeing him all sweaty, finding it really hot.
āCome on daddy, youāre taking too long.ā You giggle, lowering yourself on your chest and start playing with yourself. āIām gonna make myself come if you donāt.ā You tease him by opening your hole for him, showing him the mixed juices there. You see him pump his cock a few times before finally getting on the bed to pound into you. You love this position, you feel him deeper and deeper with each pound. He plays with your clit while you moan ādaddy, daddy, daddyā¦ā each time he touches that perfect spot inside you.
He makes you come two more times before you both are destroyed. He lays on top of your back, whispering sweet things into your ear while he softens inside you, keeping his cum inside.
āI should wear this uniform more, huh? If it gets you so worked up.ā He kisses your ear.
āPlease do. You look so good in it.ā You say with your eyes closed, feeling full and sticky of him, loving the sensation.
PSA to fic readers, it is so hard to freak a fic writer out with your comments. we are just as crazy about the fic as you are.
tell me you love it. tell me it made you slam your laptop shut. tell me you brought it up at your college lecture about kink. key smash in all caps. quote the passage that made you think. i promise, weāll love it.
we spend hours thinking about it, writing it, editing it. there is no such thing as over enthusiasm when youāre talking about our fics to us. we are sooooo weird about them, i assure you. you are just matching my freak. the freak bar is already set so high. feel no anxiety about enjoying something and letting the creator know.
šŖ- look at me uploading another fic when i said i would
wc - 1.6k | content warning - car accident aftermath, hospitals, jack on the roof, medical inaccuracies, established relationship, not proofread
pt. 1 | pt. 2
Three days had gone by, Jack had gotten taken care of shortly after falling asleep next to you in the uncomfortable hospital chair. Shen had come by to check on the both of you, but mostly on the stubborn one who had refused to leave your side the moment you had come out of surgery.
"Up you get, man." Jack groaned at the feeling of a stiff neck, his hand coming up to rub out the kink before looking to find the voice who woke him up.
Shen walked over to check on the bandages on Jack's head and side, seeing if a change was due ā which it was ā and changed them carefully. Jack gave no resistance, allowing Shen to do his job, to take care of him.
"How's she doin'?" Shen asked, not as a doctor but as a friend of them both. Once word got around day shift, it had quickly tumbled over to night shift and caused frantic worry about their attending and his wife.
"Good, her stats were great throughout the night, she's strong." Jack answered routinely, arms crossed heavily over his broad chest while trying to stretch as best he could. Shen nodded in acknowledgment, finishing up the last of the wound care. "Of course she's strong, how else would she handle being married to you?" Shen joked and silently patted himself on the back when he got a small smile out of Jack.
"You need anything before I head back down?"
"Nah man, thank you."
"Anytime, text me if you need someone, okay?"
Jack nodded, give Shen a final wave. and left Jack alone again with you.
For a while Jack just watched you, the way your chest rose and fell automatically with the help of the intubation tube helped calm the nerves churning his stomach. One of the ICU doctors said you would likely be on the ventilator for a few days because of the respiratory distress you were under.
Now after three days you had begun to breath over your tube, meaning you would soon be extubated. Jack was forced to go home, shower, and get a new pair of clothes before it happened, Robby said you would prefer him not smelling like the gasoline that will leave you both traumatized for years to come ā and Jack didn't have the energy to argue with that, nor the ability to since Robby was right.
Robby had to swear up and down he would stay right there next to until Jack got back, even going as far as telling Jack he wouldn't even piss until Jack was next to you again.
Thankfully, Jack agreed.
Ellis drove Jack to his house, considering Jack's truck had been totaled, and sat in the living room waiting for him to finish up ā which he did rather quickly ā and drive them both back to the hospital.
"She's gonna be okay, Jack, she's a fighter." Ellis spoke firmly in the quiet of the car.
"I know." Jack agreed, but Ellis could tell in the way his throat constricted that he didn't believe her sentence in full. Of course you were a fighter, you always have been, always had to be ā but what if you didn't want to fight anymore? Jack wasn't sure he could be upset at that.
He knew you were tired. But that selfish part of him wanted you to keep going, no matter what, and he hated himself for it.
Robby sat there for about 45 minutes, talking to you about the shift like he usually would when he came over for dinner, you would cook for you three every Saturday both of them were off and would have a family movie night. Robby didn't have many people in his life, so he held on to the two of you tightly.
It was killing him slowly every time he would speak and was only met with silence coming back to him, you were one of the most chatty people he knew. Not getting your enthusiastic reply, or kind words about how he did everything he could on the patient who came in, and sometimes it's just their time to go.
You had a way with words that healed both Jack and Robby in ways they didn't know they needed healed, you were the sister Robby never got, and the wife Jack never thought he deserved.
Jack came in with still slightly damp hair, "the doc should be here soon."
Robby assisted in the extubation, double checking all the monitors to ensure a smooth removal. Jack held your while his other gently caressed your head, his thumb moving back and forth on your forehead in comforting motions.
"Breath sounds are good bilaterally," Your Doctor said confidently, giving Jack a reassuring smile before checking on a few more things, "she should wake up soon, Abbot."
"Thanks." Jack gave the man a pat on the back while he walked out, Robby planted a kiss on your forehead and a big hug to Jack.
"Call me when she wakes up, breaks over."
"I will, man, thank you," Jack responded as he watched Robby walk out.
Jack decided he would work on some overdue paper work while waiting for your pretty eyes to resurface so he could look in them again, tell you how much he loved you and how sorry he was that you suffered this much.
The clock continued to tick as he began to worry about you not waking up, it had been hours and the stack of paperwork due was done. His eyes started dropping as he waited and soon enough his head was resting on the side of your bed, hand slotted with yours right where it was supposed to be and fell asleep next to you. Dreaming of you, and all the things you deserve to have after this debacle.
You woke up with a groan and a pounding in your head, a warm feeling against your hand was the second feeling you noticed causing your eyes to squint open, just enough to investigate the sensation. Jack's fluff of curly hair was the first thing your blurry eyes attempted to focus on.
Blinking a few times you began to recognize where you were, the dimmed light above you lighting up the room you had been in for god-knows how long and all the memories came back to you in a flash. The pain, the screams, the awful smell of the leaking gasoline rushing over your senses.
Jack noticed the movement, his years in the military taught him how to sleep deep but wake up fast and ready the moment something changed.
"Honey?" He said in a hurry, shaking the sleep out of his brain, immediately becoming attentive to you.
"Ja-ck?" Your voice came out in a crack, obviously sounding scared.
"I'm right here baby, hey," Jack whispered, water blurring his vision.
His first immediate thought was that he needed to calm you down, keep your heart rhythm steady and your breaths even.
"Sweetheart, listen, we were in an accident, you are at PTMC but you're okay, we both are." Jack clarified what you already figured but it somehow made you feel better, and much more stable. Your breathing evened out and heartbeat became less of a pound and more of a gentle thump.
"Are you okay?" You asked, because of course you did.
He chuckled wetly, shaking his head.
"Yeah baby, I'm okay."
You beamed the best you could at him, glad to know the one not sitting in the hospital bed was perfectly intact. "Good, I would've been so mad if they messed up that beautiful face of yours," you joked. Jack was thankful to know you were still in the right mind and cracking jokes at the worst times possible.
After being checked on by nurses, the neurological team, the respiratory team, and a few other specialty doctors you were able to rest again. All the poking and prodding really did a number on you. Jack noticed and politely asked everyone to get out and let you recuperate, his hand gently resting atop your head.
"Get some sleep honey," Jack whispered.
"I think I've slept enough, doctor." Your joke rang through his ears, along with that simple laugh.
Your hands grabbed onto Jack's arm, desperately trying to reel him into bed with you, to give you a better pillow to rest your head on. "I don't want to hurt you, baby," he groaned, finding it hard to say no to your bruised face.
"You are the last person in the world who could ever hurt me, Jack." The look you gave him was knowing, if he didn't know any better he would think there was a speech bubble displaying all his thoughts above his head.
As always, you won the argument.
Jack slid in carefully next to you, his arm resting under your neck and your head digging into his chest while you fought to get comfortable. He rubbed your arms for a some time while you drifted off, you asked him to talk to you about everything you possibly missed in the three days you weren't conscious so he aimlessly explained any and all hot gossip he had read or overheard.
Little comments from you every few sentences before the only thing you were offering to the conversation were your snores, he watched you contently, the way your eyes moved under your eyelids as you dreamt of ā hopefully ā all good things.
Jack was painfully aware of how long the journey of getting you back into full health would be, but he figured it was an easier path then funeral planning would've been.
How it feels to genuinely enjoy the Pitt and not get caught up on every little bad thing a character has done because theyāre all complex human beings and none of them are truly evil like everyone in this fandom seems to think
this is the part 2 of "Sweet nothing" should be out soon pookies
Three days had gone by, Jack had gotten taken care of shortly after falling asleep next to you in the uncomfortable hospital chair. Shen had come by to check on the both of you, but mostly on the stubborn one who had refused to leave your side the moment you had come out of surgery.
"Up you get, man." Jack groaned at the feeling of a stiff neck, his hand coming up to rub out the kink before looking to find the voice who woke him up.
Shen walked over to check on the bandages on Jack's head and side, seeing if a change was due ā which it was ā and changed them carefully. Jack gave no resistance, allowing Shen to do his job, to take care of him.
"How's she doin'?" Shen asked, not as a doctor but as a friend of them both. Once word got around day shift, it had quickly tumbled over to night shift and caused frantic worry about their attending and his wife.
"Good, her stats were great throughout the night, she's strong." Jack answered routinely, arms crossed heavily over his broad chest while trying to stretch as best he could. Shen nodded in acknowledgment, finishing up the last of the wound care. "Of course she's strong, how else would she handle being married to you?" Shen joked and silently patted himself on the back when he got a small smile out of Jack.
"You need anything before I head back down?"
"Nah man, thank you."
"Anytime, text me if you need someone, okay?"
Jack nodded, give Shen a final wave. and left Jack alone again with you.
For a while Jack just watched you, the way your chest rose and fell automatically with the help of the intubation tube helped calm the nerves churning his stomach. One of the ICU doctors said you would likely be on the ventilator for a few days because of the respiratory distress you were under.
Now after three days you had begun to breath over your tube, meaning you would soon be extubated. Jack was forced to go home, shower, and get a new pair of clothes before it happened, Robby said you would prefer him not smelling like the gasoline that will leave you both traumatized for years to come ā and Jack didn't have the energy to argue with that, nor the ability to since Robby was right.
Robby had to swear up and down he would stay right there next to until Jack got back, even going as far as telling Jack he wouldn't even piss until Jack was next to you again.
no man's land - pt.1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3 | pt. 4 | pt. 5 ᯠft. jack abbot
you're okay ᯠft. jack abbot
hour thirteen ᯠft. jack abbot
i told you so ᯠft. jack abbot
she's here - pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3 | pt. 4 | pt. 5 ᯠft. michael robinavitch
<š .į literally everything by mich is incredibly well written and I recommend literally all her fic's but these are a few of my favorites
⤷ ć@glamorizethechaos ĖĖĖ
thanksgiving with jack abbot
bruises - pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3 | pt. 4 | pt. 5 | pt. 6 | pt. 7 ᯠft. jack abbot
⤷ ć@tway5314 ĖĖĖ
time ᯠft. michael robinavitch
⤷ ć@rr-after-dark ĖĖĖ
stray's - pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3 | pt. 4 | pt. 5 | pt. 6 ᯠft. jack abbot
stupid ᯠft. jack abbot
⤷ ć@loverwrites ĖĖĖ
vaquero(s) ᯠft. jack abbot & michael robinavitch
<š .į all of these writers have inspired me and have some of the most beautiful ways of story telling and I have read all of these a bajillion times
wc - 1.5k | content warning - car accident, large medical inaccuracies !, angst, sad jack, established relationship, normal hospital gore, let me know if i missed anything <3
pt. 1 | pt. 2
"BP 90/60 and dropping, we need an OR now!"
"Y/n? Oh god."
"Robby, please don't let her die man. holy fuck, please!"
"Jack, you need to go, Dana! Get him out of here!"
Everything around you was so loud, but still impossibly far away. Your body was pulsating with overwhelming pain, all you could do was look up at the bright light above you whilst being prodded at and told to keep your eyes open.
But it was so hard. Robby came into your eyesight with a soft smile, one that you could very clearly see through ā the worry that had settled itself behind his eyes was enough.
"You're gonna be okay, just keep looking at me." He spoke calmly, hand gently combing through your hair. Talking to you about his day as he normally would, like this was an average conversation between them, Jack's best friend and his, now, very injured wife.
His voice only starting to raise at the image of your eyes rolling, as you tried to mumble apologies about how hard it was to keep your eyes open.
The void had faded in, and you were now floating in an endless abyss
"Shit!" Robby cursed, normally he wouldn't step in on a procedure his students and the other medical staff could learn on, but this was you.
Jack was pacing outside the room, the limp obvious with irritation but it was the least of his worries. It had all happened so suddenly, you two were giggling on the way home ā singing some song on the radio when a car t-boned the passenger side, your side.
He had walked out with minor injuries, a mild concussion, whiplash, and bruised ribs. You on the other hand got the brunt of everything, including a piece of the other cars windshield sticking through your torso.
"Baby!? Oh fuck me, fuck!" He cursed as he saw the way your body had been mutilated, he called 911 the moment he found his phone before assessing your injuries. This wasn't a new situation to him, the haste that was required in combat medicine had taught him well ā his lack of resources was what seemed to be hurting him.
His hand reached over to feel your pulse, releasing a heavy sigh of relief when he felt the thumps against his fingertips.
"Y/n, honey, need you to open your eyes for me." The words caressed the air in a panic, pleading with you to follow his voice back. He noticed your eyelids start to flutter and your face scrunch up in pain, Jack couldn't stand it but at least you were alive.
"My head- Jack?" He heard your fragile voice reach for him, closing his eyes for a split second before attending to you. "I'm here, I'm here sweetheart, try not to move too much." Jack didn't know weather to inform you of the comically large piece of glass sticking out of your abdomen, hoping you would be easier to keep calm without understanding the extent of your injuries.
Right now the only thing you could process enough was the pounding in your head, Jack's voice, and the buzzing noise around the car.
Jack kept patting the side of your face, attempting ā with little success ā in keeping you awake, he starting talking about that new restaurant you two had a reservation for on Tuesday, or how he was finally taking some much needed time off in April to spend a few weeks wrapped in comfortable clothes and reading books with each other on the couch.
You tried, you really did but the pain became unbearable, compromising your being with its every power. Your husband kept you from complete unconsciousness all the way up until you began coding in the trauma room.
The tension in the ER dramatically increased when your heart stopped beating, simultaneously being silent and brain-numbingly loud all at once. Jack was stood outside the glass doors watching as resuscitation efforts started up, dissociated while they pushed epinephrine and pushed away the moment any heart rhythm was detected and you were hastily pushed up to the OR.
Dana had Jack sitting in the on-call room, quietly observing him for any life threatening injuries.
"It was all my fault." He whispered, a croak from the back of his throat coming out.
"Shh, no it wasn't, don't think like that." Dana soothed, her maternal love showing through with her words. Jack's whole body began to shake, the shock wearing off and the cold catching up to him.
Jack flinched when Dana's fingers pushed passed his ā likely broken ā ribs, "Alright, I'm gonna get you scheduled for a CT, you've got a pretty nasty head wound up here, and I know that wife of yours would kill me if she found out I let you wallow without a making sure you were okay first." She lightened the mood with hope, feeding it into Jack's brain before heading to the nurses station to get him sorted.
Robby continued compressions while sweet dripped down his forehead, they had pushed epinephrine twice already and got the same result of the haunting flat sound. He refused to stop till every effort possible was preformed.
"Come on, kid, don't do this." Robby whispered, breathes coming out hard. His hands pushing down 2 inches before springing back up ā he already felt the crack of your ribs beneath him.
"Stop compressions!"
The silence was deafening, you could hear the churn of the physicians stomachs as they waited for something, anything.
Seconds pass, right as Robby was gearing up for another round of compression the loud, piercing sound of a beeping heart penetrated the thick tension in the room. Everyone allowed themselves a sigh of relief before getting right back into making sure your heart stayed beating, Garcia began prepping you for the OR, Robby secured your intubation tube, and Princess began calling for more O Neg while they wheeled you up and into surgery.
Jack saw as they rushed you toward the elevator, his whole body nearly shut down at the sight of you being rolled out.
That means your alive. Alive enough to be taken for surgery.
Robby walked over to Jack and yanked him into a hug, holding Jack up while his knee gave out beneath him.
"It's your turn to be looked after, brother."
Hours passed, Jack had been stitched and scanned. You were being ripped apart in a sterile room while he was sitting on the roof, not understanding why this was happening to him, why he wasn't allowed happiness and stability. You were supposed to be alive, in bed next to him and rubbing your insanely cold feet on his skin while talking about anything that popped into your brain.
He allowed himself to smile at that image of you in his head, the way you would giggle when he would respond with a half-awake grunt before you would kiss his chest and finally close your eyes with the sound of his heartbeat singing you to sleep like the perfect lullaby.
Jack stared at the sky for a while longer, waiting for the text that you were stable and out of surgery. Robby had to force him away from the thought of watching you in the observation deck, telling him 'he didn't need to see her like that' but in his head it was the only fair outcome. If you die he should have to be there for it, this was on him, he deserved every bit of hurt that was thrown upon him.
"Please baby, please be okay." He whispered out a sobbed into his hands.
Robby walked slowly up the stairs to the roof to meet Jack, rehearsing the best way to tell him all your injuries, wondering how he was going to look in his eyes while telling him that you weren't out of the woods yet. Robby opened the roof door to find jack hugging himself tight and praying to something Robby was she Jack didn't believe in.
"Jack?" Robby called out gently, trying not to startle the man breaking down in front of him.
"I-Is she okay?" He asked immediately, roughly wiping the tears off his cheeks in swift movements.
"Let's go see her, yeah?"
Robby explained the extent of your injuries while walking him to the room you lay unconscious in, Jack watched you through the doorway for a little while, working up the courage to really see you. The only way he could see you was as a doctor and not as your partner, the monitors, all the beeping, the statistics of all your injuries and the outcome of each.
He wished he could just turn it off. To just be with you.
Jack moved with a limp to your bed, his achy bones finally catching up to him as he sat down next to you and pulled your hand into his. Kissing it gently, his tears catching your cold bruised skin.
I do not consent to my works being fed to AI. I have not nor will I ever consent. I don't consent to my words being submitted to AI. I don't consent to AI. Get it out of my fucking face.
and real quick for the racists in my ask box hiding behind the anonymous button :
this is not a safe space for you. this blog has always been anti-ice and anti-trump. you genuinely do not have a place here on my blog if you support either one. this is more than just writing fanfiction and calling it a day, there are human rights and lives on the line. do not interact with me or my posts if youāre a racist, zionist, homophobe, neo-nazi and/or support nazi ideologies, and support any forms of government that harm marginalized people and their communities. in case it wasnāt clear already; free palestine, free sudan, free congo, free the oppressed, and free the innocent. youāll be blocked indefinitely for spewing any kind of hate speech period.
6.3k || All my content is 18+ MDNI || CW: quick reference to reader being sick; preeclampsia mentioned; preeclampsia being missed in a patient by another hospital and mom and baby being okay but it scaring Jack mentioned; reader misses being able to snuggle and hug closely because of the bump but is also obviously happy about it in a sense; reference to PIV sex; reference to oral sex; so much teasing (sexual); oral sex f receiving for the hottest of seconds; over-protective Jack; worrier Jack; letās think about dad Jack doing the dad walk out of the hospital
Summary: You text Jack that your pregnancy related insomnia is keeping you up while he's working. He's more than happy to help you sleep the best you can once he's home.
AN: Set in the A nice bonus AU, but you don't need to have read any of it for this to make sense! All you really need to know is Reader just moved to Pittsburgh and met Jack when he stopped to help when she was in a minor car accident. I do know where this came from (me eating Pad Thai in bed at nearly 4 a.m. don't judge me), but I don't really know where it went?? I don't know if I like where it went? I don't think I like the ending? I won't lie this feels extra meh but I don't know anymore so I'm pressing send because Jack fluff, you know? I hope it's okay and just a good, fun, flirty, silly, fluffy lighthearted moment. Once again I adore these two and I hope you enjoy this! Thank you so much for reading! ā„ļø
Your insomnia has gotten much worse lately.
That's why you find yourself at the fridge at nearly four in the morning taking out the leftover Pad Thai and putting it in the microwave. You wish Jack was here with you. If he was you'd be asleep in bed, which sounds lovely. The insomnia comes close to disappearing when he's in bed sleeping or lounging with you. But since he's at work, you also wish it was a slow early morning at the Pitt so he had more time to text you.
You don't hold it against him and you do your best not to text him seventy times in a row so that he's not totally overwhelmed when he gets a minute to check his phone. There's a literal note in the notes app of your phone with stuff you wanted to tell him or talk about so that you remember it all.
When Jack found out he told you that wasn't necessary, that you could text him a thousand times in a row and he wouldn't care, that he wants to hear everything you want to tell him and doesnāt want you to hold back. And you know he wouldn't, but it's hard to reply to all of that and Jack likes to reply to every set of messages on a topic or point. You know he feels bad when he doesn't or can't and you know how overstimulating the Pitt can be and don't want to add to that by making him feel the pressure of having a million things to reply to.
Plus, he says it would be okay but now youāre pregnant, and you think if you did it now Jack would find himself half way to a panic attack when he looked at his phone and saw eighty texts from you or if he felt his phone going off constantly and couldn't look at it.
You texted him probably a little less than four hours ago, a reply to whatever the two of you had been going back and forth about when he got a few minutes to text you, and his text that you should try to get some sleep as it hit midnight. He hasn't replied yet but sending something else won't leave him a million texts from you to respond to so you shoot him another one.
You - I've decided the best thing to do right now is heat up the leftover Pad Thai and I thought you would like to know
It's silly. There's no real reason for you to share that. It just made you think of him for some reason.
A little shot of adrenaline hits Jack when he feels his phone vibrate in his pocket at this time of the morning. He knows it's you. He just knows it. And you've been silent for almost four hours and now you're texting him. It's only one message so far, sure, but more could be coming, or maybe all you had the strength to do was get one message out before you passed out or something.
The next thirty seconds he spends in trauma one before John walks in just to see if they need another set of hands is one of the longest thirty seconds of his life. But at the same time he's so fucking grateful it was only thirty seconds. "Dr. Shen, take over?"
"Course boss," John says with a single nod as he puts on some gloves. Jack is already halfway out the door and walking toward the ambulance bay doors as John says it.
He pulls his phone out as he walks, looks at your message and lets out the biggest sigh of relief and soft laugh to himself as the cool air of the early morning hits him. There is something so incredibly adorable about your message. Something so you. He smiles as he types out a response and feels the adrenaline wane.
J - I love knowing what you're up too Baby, but why are you awake? It's 3:47 a.m. You need sleep
You're walking back to bed with the Pad Thai and a drink when your phone goes off. It takes you a minute once you get to bed to get yourself comfortable and everything situated but once you're good you grab your phone and read Jack's message. You smile to yourself, know that his message isn't meant to be chiding at all. It's coming from a place of concern and worry about you and your health and from how much love he has for you.
You - Insomnia. And now the baby wants Pad Thai
Jack laughs to himself softly and shakes his head a little.
J - The baby, huh? Have you slept at all?
You take a bite of Pad Thai before replying.
You - Yes, the baby. And no, I figure I can when you get home. I sleep much better with you here. So does the baby
The last two sentences absolutely melt Jack. All he wants in life is to be a safe and comforting space and presence for you and now for your child.
J - Okay but I'm keeping you in bed with me and you're getting some real sleep. Not three or four hours so you can be up and doing things at a reasonable time. You need the rest
Your insomnia isn't really much better during the week when Jack isnāt here, though you're more apt to at least try to force yourself to sleep since you have work. It's starting to make Jack almost annoyed with working nights. If he worked days he'd be there to help you sleep every night.
You - Oh no, I have to spend the day in bed with my husband. I am so upset, how will I ever survive?
Jack can hear you saying it, can hear the playfully sarcastic tone you'd use.
You - You know I almost came to see you because I was bored and missing you but I knew you would flip out seeing me and I'd end up with an OB consult and NST, and doing blood work and a urinalysis as a little preeclampsia screening regardless of my BP all because I wanted to see my husband and give him a kiss š
He clicks his tongue at your message and scoffs a little, a smile on his face the whole time as he shakes his head slightly.
J - Okay, that happened once because your BP was arguably borderline
You snort a laugh at his reply, can see his adorable fake defensive expression he'd be making if you were together.
You - Arguably borderline to whom? Because the OB team, you know the people who specialize in pregnancy, wasn't concerned š
Your blood pressure hadn't been borderline. Jack had a mom come in a few nights before whose preeclampsia was missed by another hospital, and while her and baby ultimately ended up being completely okay, seeing it was still scary and hard. It rocked him. So when you came by a day or two later to visit one night while he was working he took your blood pressure and convinced himself it could be considered borderline.
You haven't told him but you came in deliberately that night. You knew exactly what would happen, and sure enough, it is exactly what happened. Jack had needed it. You were able to see how distressed he was and how he was more affected than he wanted to let on because he didnāt want to worry you, so you went in and let him and OB look you and baby over.
Jack had started the teasing about the situation, teasing himself largely to show you that it was okay to tease him, that he knows he was intense that night. You joined in with him on the light teasing once you were sure he wasn't going to take it wrong or like you were making fun of him because you absolutely weren't and aren't when you tease him lightly like you did in your text. He knows how loved and cared for it made you feel, you told him how sweet you found it. The smile your reply pulled from him doesn't leave his face as he replies.
J - Better to be safe than sorry. Nothing can happen to you
J - And it's very adorable of you to want to come visit
He worries so much, your Jack. Part of it is circumstance. He's a doctor, he knows the vast majority of the things that could go wrong, with you and with baby. And no, he's not an OB, but he's an emergency medicine attending so he sees obstetric emergencies with both good and bad outcomes frequently enough. And those all hit him so much harder now, especially the bad outcomes.
And part of it is just Jack. He's a worrier, largely because he's a lover. He loves you so much and can't imagine his life without you so he worries when he thinks you're in danger, loves your baby so much and can't breathe at the thought of something happening to them either. The thought of losing both of you is enough to make him dizzy and completely breathless as it passes through his mind, panic working its way through his body in seconds if he stays on the thought too long in his mind.
You know all of that, recognize that he knows way too much, sees way too much and you can't blame him in the slightest. You can't imagine seeing and knowing everything he does and then having to watch him walk around with all or most of the same risks. There's so little you can do to reassure him and help calm his worry about this stuff and it's made all the more difficult when you're not with him like this. But you do your best.
You - I know Baby and I hate that you worry so much but it's very very sweet and makes me feel very loved. Everything is going to be okay, I'm doing well and healthy and so is the baby. We're good
Jack lets out a breath and reads your text until he memorizes the last two sentences and replays them in his mind over and over as he starts walking back into the Pitt. He lets himself hear them in your voice too just for the extra comfort.
J - I know and I'm just trying to do my best to help keep it that way
A soft smile pulls onto your face. You love this man so god damn much that it doesn't make any fucking sense and that's the best and most beautiful and perfect part of it.
You - You're doing more than enough to help keep it that way, Baby. You're the sweetest
He doesn't have to even think about his reply.
J - And you're the cutest and the funniest
You melt this time. Those two words from all those years ago on the day you met. You actually get a little teary because it's so sweet and loving. God, you're going to suck his dick so fucking good for that when he's ready and not tired.
Jack sighs when Lena tells him they have a trauma arriving.
J - Trauma pulling in so I have to go but I'll text you when I can. Please try to get some sleep though and enjoy your Pad Thai. Call me or the direct Pitt line if you need anything. Lena and Bridget are here
J - I love you so much
Before he puts his phone away Jack schedules a message to send to you in about two minutes.
You pout a little to yourself when you read his message but you don't blame him for it of course. He's at work, there's nothing he can do.
You - Okay, be safe. And I'll try and I will. I love you so much too
When your phone goes off a minute or so later you're confused until you read it. You just know that he scheduled the message to send. That slick bastard.
You adore him, beam to yourself at the message.
J - I love you more
Jack is exhausted and so beyond done with his day by the time he gets home. He just wants to shower to rinse off and slide into bed with you. When he gets to your bedroom he's happy to see that the TV is on standby mode and you've fallen into at least a light sleep. He turns the bathroom light on and keeps the door open to use its light to check on you.
Unsurprisingly, you're asleep on his side of the bed, your head on his pillow. He chuckles to himself as he takes in your sleeping face. Your mouth is open a little bit and a little bit of your drool has gathered on his pillow. It's so fucking precious he wants to take you in his arms and hold you and smother you in kisses and never let you go.
The covers aren't up over you all the way, you likely fell asleep while watching something. They're low enough that Jack can easily see that you're in one of his old t-shirts that you love and the sight will never fail to make his cock stir, even after all these years together. And tonight with the position you're in Jack has a good view of the way your growing bump fills his shirt out and he's well past a semi.
He forces his eyes to unglue themselves from you and heads to shower. He's quick, just wants the shift rinsed off him and to get in bed with you as quickly as possible.
You stir as Jack settles behind you in bed. "Oh thank god you're here. I can finally sleep well," you mumble drowsily.
"Hi," Jack whispers. He stays sitting up a little since you're awake, leans over you so he can give you more of a proper kiss than he'd be able to if he was spooning you already. "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you." The kiss he gives you is soft but lingers as your smile grows into it. His hand rubs up and down your side, works your top shoulder blade in a little massage.
He always does this, has his hands on you first. On just you. He wants you to know that you're still appreciated as you, as his wife and the woman he loves and wants and adores and needs. After a few runs of his hand up and down your side and shoulders Jack slides his hand down to your bump and rubs it, leans over your side and presses a kiss where he can reach, just barely onto it. "Hi, Kid," he murmurs, lips moving against your skin as he continues to talk to them. "I hope you enjoyed your early morning Pad Thai."
You let out a soft, sleepy laugh through your nose. "They did," you assure him.
"Good," Jack chuckles. "You need anything before I settle in?"
"Just need my husband cuddling me," you mumble, yawning as you finish the sentence.
"A given, Baby." Jack gets himself into a good position, pulls the covers up over both of you as he spoons you from behind.
You sigh happily as you wiggle your way back against him to try to get even closer. "What time is it?"
"8:30ish," he murmurs as you settle into him. Once you're good he brings his top arm over you and your bump to hold you close.
His hand slips its way under his shirt that you're wearing and rests skin to skin on your bump, his thumb brushing back and forth over it absentmindedly. "When we wake up we need to figure something out to help you sleep because you need more sleep. Staying up is okay on the weekends since you can sleep to make it up, but during the week it's really not good."
He's not upset or nagging, doesn't sound irritated or like he's trying to be mean, and certainly it's not controlling. It's from that same place of worry and concern and love.
"Probably, we do, yeah," you agree.
"I'm not trying to be an ass or controlling-"
"Hey," you interrupt him softly, "I know you aren't, Baby, and I didn't feel for a second like you were. I know you just care and worry."
Jack lets out a short breath. "As long as you know."
"I do," you nod. "Work okay?"
"It was what it was," he half laughs, voice low. "You should sleep, Baby."
"Yeah?" you hum, ignoring him saying you should sleep. You will soon enough. "Wanna talk about it?" You don't think you hear anything in voice that says it was rough, but you just want to make sure, don't fully trust yourself this sleepy even though you should because you'd absolutely hear it no matter how sleepy you are and how subtle Jack is. That's how much you love him. You know him. Better than he knows himself.
"No. Nothing too exciting happened." He kisses your head over your hair, nuzzling his nose and smelling your shampoo for a second. "It was about as typical as an emergency room gets."
You scoot yourself forward away from Jack a bit and he makes a noise of protest but nevertheless lets you go, his hand sliding from your bump. It feels like it's already a production for you to get yourself sitting up enough to pull Jack's shirt off and you're only a few days into being six months pregnant. "God," you huff as you toss the shirt aside. "I'm not going to be able to do that alone by the end."
"Mm, well, I'll be here to help, Baby." Jack helps you settle back onto your side, this time so that you're facing him. He runs his hand up and down your side, sometimes trailing to the side to rub you bump. "You could've left it on.ā
"You wanted it off," you smirk at him, both your and Jack's eyes adjusted enough to the low light that just slips in at the edges of the blackout curtains that you can make out each other's faces. "And so did I. I like feeling your skin. Plus I want a real kiss."
"Yeah, I like feeling your skin too," Jack murmurs as he leans forward and gives you the proper kiss you asked for. Several of them, in fact. He loves kissing you, would do it forever if it was at all feasible. You try to snuggle in closer to him as you kiss and you manage to a little before Jack can feel the pout your lips want to pull into as you kiss. He pulls his head away so he can see you and sure enough, your lips settle into it. "Why the pout?"
"It's dumb," you sigh, half rolling your eyes at yourself. "And it sounds bad and awful."
"Try me," he whispers, one of those kind and soft and caring smiles that made you fall so so deeply in love with him pulling onto his face.
You shrug your shoulder. "I just miss you and being able to hug and cuddle with you properly. You know, like closer. My bump gets in the way. And I know how bad and ungrateful that sounds, but I promise I really am grateful and love them so much and desperately want them to be okay and my bump to get bigger."
"It's okay, Baby. I understand. I promise you that I do and that it's not dumb." He gives you a look and a small smile that tells you he feels the same way. "You're allowed to miss hugging and cuddling with me closer while still being thankful and grateful that you're pregnant and have a growing bump and healthy baby who you love and want to keep growing." His hand slides to run up and down your back now to help you feel closer. "I know it's easy to say, but we just have to hold onto thinking about how good that first hug and cuddle postpartum will be."
"Can we do it right away?" you ask quickly with big pleading eyes. "The hug at least. I don't think a hospital bed is super conducive to this kind of cuddling."
Jack nods, gives you a smile so soft and sweet your heart and mind ache because you love him so much and know he loves you that much too. "I promise you that I will help you out of bed and hug you the second it's safe for you and you can and are feeling up to it."
"Thank you." You push your lips out and Jack kisses you, lets you take as many kisses as you want. You start to giggle and pull out of the kiss, another postpartum thought crossing your mind. "I'm excited to watch you do the dad walk out of the hospital."
Jack shakes his head lightly and playfully rolls his eyes at you. "You know, you should shut your eyes and dream of that while you get some sleep."
You hum at him, a smirked smile starting to pull onto your lips. "You know what helps me sleep even better?"
Jack gives you an amused smile. Your answer could go in a lot of directions right now, sex, a certain drink in the fridge, a massage, a specific snack, watching your favorite show. Realistically, Jack knows the answer. He asks anyway. "What's that?"
"An orgasm or two," you breathe.
"Yeah?" Jack smirks at you, eyebrows flashing up. It's painfully attractive and goes straight to your cunt.
"Yeah." You bite your bottom lip gently as you nod and glance down at his lips before looking back up into his eyes.
"Well," Jack murmurs, the sex in his voice with just that single word making you shiver. "Anything to help."
He kisses you again, sucks at your bottom lip and swipes his tongue across the seam of your lips during your next kiss so he can start truly making out with you. Jack keeps just as it is for a bit, just makes out with you because you both love it before he slides his hand along your skin from your back to between your legs. He groans into your mouth at how wet he finds you and you take advantage, slip your tongue into his mouth to taste him. It doesn't last long though because the second Jack lets his fingertips nudge your clit you jolt and pull your head away as you moan, already breathing hard and in need of oxygen.
"You get worked up so easily," Jack rasps, smirking as he drags his fingers through you. He loves the way you absolutely keen for him when he starts to rub your clit the way you love.
"Second trimester thing, I guess," you pant. "Better make the most of it while it lasts."
"We better," Jack hums against your lips, the words edged with the groan that his now hard cock rubbing against your bump pulls from him.
You know each other perfectly, move in a beautiful, erotic synchrony to get you onto your back and Jack hovering over you. He balances himself on his knees and one hand and reaches over and turns on the small nightlight on the nightstand that gives off the perfect amount of light for you to see all of each other in a sensual warm glow.
You and Jack don't have much time left with positions that require you to be laying on your back. You've already had to make adjustments that have worked largely because Jack has the muscle and control to support his weight enough with his hands and arms and knees so that he can hold his body weight while thrusting and be on top of you in a sense, let himself press down onto you the slightest bit at times just to feel it.
At your suggestion he's also taken to being on his knees and pulling your ass onto his thighs just a little, his hands on your hips to help move them and stabilize himself so he can fuck you deeper, faster, harder. It's a position you both love. Jack loves the way he gets to watch his cock slide in and out of you as he fucks you and you take everything he gives you, and you like watching Jack watch himself fucking you and the way the angle of your hips and ass on his thighs lets his cock drag so heavily along your g-spot that it takes only the slightest bit of attention to your clit before you're coming hard around him, so hard he swears he can feel it get harder to pull himself out of you and so hard you both hear the way your pussy sounds even sloppier as he continues to fuck you.
"You've been insatiable," he husks, getting himself positioned so that he's hovering over you and can kiss you and grind his cock against you without putting too much of his weight on you. "So needy," he whispers at your ear as he kisses the angle of your mandible in that tone that's low and pure sex.
"Yeah, Jack," you moan, turning your head to give him better access to your neck. He's so fucking hot and handsome and yours and you're so fucking turned on for him that you're restless, your hands finding his upper arms and rubbing up and down to feel his muscles, working yourself up further in the process. "For you."
His hum turns into a possessive growl at your words as he moves his lips down your neck. "I love it."
"Me too." Your toes curl and back arches slightly when he sucks at just the right spot on your neck, nips at it and laves his tongue over your skin to soothe, your entire body fucking electric for him you're so turned on and worked up. "Oh god," you moan again, shivering when he teases your collarbone with his teeth and tongue and lips. "I'm gonna suck your cock so good tomorrow, I was already thinking about it earlier when you called me the cutest and funniest."
"Fuck," Jack groans, his hips bucking slightly to grind his cock against you harder. "I'll never say no to that," he starts kissing across your chest to your other collarbone, "as long as you're feeling up to it and can and want to."
At one point late in your first trimester and into the beginning of your second something happened where your body just couldn't do it, the first time you hadn't even had his head all the way in and you were gagging and it only got worse and worse the more you had tried to push through it thinking eventually you'd relax into it. And then youād gotten just a hint of a taste of precum and had actually had to run and be sick.
It took weeks for Jack to even let you try it again and when you'd gag at just the head he'd shut it down. Eventually it went away much to your delight, you'd missed the feeling of him in your mouth and how powerful and good in that unique way sucking him off and making him feel incredible and watching his reactions made you feel.
So his add on that he'd never say no as long as you're feeling up to it and can and want to makes your heart ache with how loved and protected you feel. It's one of those moments that confirms what you already know and have known for a long time now, he's the sweetest, most thoughtful and loving and caring man and husband in the world. It just makes you want to suck his dick even better and sloppier and deeper and longer.
Jack's lips kiss the tops of your breasts and then start to make their way down to your nipple when he stops. "Wait⦠Oh my god." He lets out an amused laugh of disbelief and brings his head up to look at you. "Is this why you almost came to visit me? To get fucked by your husband?"
Your mouth falls open a little and you scoff in disbelief. "No! God for-fucking-bid a woman want to go visit her husband just to see him, especially when it's extra romantic because that's where they met and had their first kiss." You shake your head at him and Jack tilts and bobs his head, raised eyebrows and a smirk that asks really? on his face. "I mean⦠you know," you bob your head back at him against the pillow and give the smallest shrug of your shoulders, "it would've been a nice bonus. That may or may not have crossed my mind."
Jack's smirk deepens and it's so fucking hot you let out the softest whine. "I would've done it too, you know." He drops his voice so that it gets even more gravelly and raspy, presses a teasingly light kiss just above your nipple. "Very, very happily."
"You would've- Fuck!" You're cut off by a jolt of pleasure as Jack's lips wrap around your nipple and he sucks while teasing it with his tongue. They've gotten even more sensitive since you got pregnant and hit the second trimester. His hummed laugh sends another shock of pleasure through you and one of your hands finds salt and pepper curls that still threaten to send you into cardiac arrest after all these years. "Oh, Jack" you moan, trying so hard to remember what you wanted to say. "You, you would've been too busy anyway."
You can feel his lips pull up into a smile against your skin and Jack sucks hard as he pulls away from your nipple, keeping it in his mouth until it has to slip away. "Oh," he chuckles darkly, moves his head over to your other nipple and teases it with his tongue, gives it a quick suck and nip before he pulls away again to look down at you. "I'd have made time, Baby. Don't you worry about that."
"Fuck, Jack," you breathe, his words and the fire in his eyes as he looks down at you and holds your gaze going straight to your cunt where you can feel yourself getting wetter for him.
"All in good time, Baby," he hums as he dips his head back down to your body, spends another minute or so lavishing your breasts with attention and pulling several shivers from you before his lips start to trail down further, over your growing bump and your hips.
"You don't have to, Jack." There's a soft pant to your words with how worked up you are but you mean it as much as you want very little more than his tongue on you. "I know you're tired, Baby, you can just fuck me."
Jack presses a kiss just above the crease of your hip, the path he'd normally take to your cunt right there for him to continue to kiss. "Trust me," he pulls his head away so he can look at you, show you how absolutely consumed with need for you with the look in his eyes, "I want to do this."
You nod at him. "Okay," you breathe.
He continues to kiss your skin, but instead of going where you want his lips head straight down one of your thighs, and it still feels obscenely good and teasing, but itās not what you want. "Jack," you whine for him, flex your thighs a little. "Please."
Jack hums at you and moves his lips to your other thigh and starts kissing down it again, and you can feel him smirk when you whine again. "Need to get fucked to sleep by my tongue and my cock, Baby?"
"God!" his words catch you slightly off guard, not because the man doesn't have good dirty talk, he has the best you've ever experienced, you just weren't expecting something quite that erotic in this moment. "Yes, Jack, fuck," you pant softly, "yes."
He finally starts to kiss inward toward your inner thighs and you part your legs even further for him and it tests Jack and his commitment to the bit because all he wants to do is dive straight into your cunt with his tongue. "Isn't that sweet?" he murmurs before nibbling at your skin so very close to where you want and yet so very far away.
Jack moves his lips to your other thigh, still teasing you but making it feel like he's giving you what you want at least a little bit. "My needy girl." He sucks at your inner thigh, his hips rocking against the sheets now for the friction as he keeps his mouth just below where your arousal has spread onto your thighs. "Anything for you."
"The mother of my child," his lips just graze your outer lips as he moves his lips to your other thigh again, presses them back down just below your arousal again. With the way he moves and positions his head you're unable to keep your hand in his curls with your bump, your other hand falling off his arm a while ago. Your fingers clutch at the sheets hard. "Working so hard to grow our baby," he hums, keeping a light āmmā sound going once he finishes the word because he knows the vibration is teasing. "And doing such a good job while looking so fucking beautiful."
"Jack, Baby," the needy desperation to your whine tells Jack he has you right where he wants you. "I love you so much," you're cut off by a small moan as he nips at your skin, "and I love how much you talk, I truly do, you know thatā¦" You don't say anything further but it's obvious you want to.
"I love you so much too." He presses a soft kiss to your thigh. "And I know you do, I promise." The smirk in his voice is so obvious and yet somewhat missed by you as your mind gets foggy from how good you feel, how good Jack's making you feel with all this. "But?"
You take in a deep breath and try to use it to moderate yourself as you speak while exhaling it. "But you are talking way too goddamned fucking much for a man with his mouth inches from my cunt."
"Just appreciating you-"
"Yeah, yeah, I love it, thank you, I feel so appreciated, now can you just please, please fuck me with your tongue or something, anything," you half groan and half moan.
"I can." Jack finally lets himself kiss up to where your arousal has already spread along your thighs and lick at your skin. "You taste different, you know." And you do know. Because he's told you before and he's just continuing to talk to be a teasing ass and you love it and him and are hanging on at the promise of how good you know it's going to feel with the teasing build up like this. "Not better or worse. Just different." His tongue moves to your other thigh and he groans at the taste of you, teasing himself all the same. "You're so, so fucking good. Get so fucking wet for me."
"You're still talking." You push your hips up again to try and get his mouth on you but it doesn't work.
"Despite your best efforts to shut me up." Jack smirks, his hands going to your hips and pinning them down with a delicious pressure now that he doesn't have to use his arms to hold himself up over you since he's laying against the bed between your legs. His head is up enough he can look you in the eyes over your bump. "So desperate and needy."
"Yes I am!" you whine completely unabashed and unashamed. You're desperate for your husband and you don't care if the entire world knows. "So, so fucking desperate, please Jack."
His smirk widens. He loves hearing you admit like this, getting you to admit it like this, in a whine, likes seeing your face when you do.
"Alright, Baby, I've got you." He moves his hands and presses a kiss to each of your hips and the gesture is so fucking sweet you almost forget how long the man has been working you up for. Almost.
You'll definitely remember it when you suck his dick later like the two of you talked about and you thought about earlier, will drag it out until heās shaking and pleading and happily and easily admitting heās desperate just like you are.
Jack settles himself comfortably against the mattress between your legs. "Up, Baby." He's barely finished calling you 'baby' before you've complied with his request and put your legs over his shoulders. "Good girl." He drags each of the words out perfectly, the breath of them hitting the seam of your cunt and you shake without him even touching you, cunt clenching around nothing, something you know he saw and probably heard and almost felt in a way.Ā
He slips his arms up and finds your hands, nudging them so you stop fisting at the sheets and then interlaces his hands with yours. You don't know why it's that move of all the moves heās made this morning that tells you he's about to rock your entire fucking world and eat you out better than he ever has before, but it does and you tremble in anticipation and arousal and need and sheer fucking desperation.
Jack uses his abs to pull his chest and torso off the mattress enough so that he can make eye contact with you over your bump again, lets his nose bump your clit to give you the briefest taste of relief that steals your breath. He says one last thing while smirking and looking you in the eyes before finally giving you what you want and licking a hot stripe cunt to clit and sucking your clit into his mouth. "This is a good look on you. Desperate and pregnant."
I hope it was fluffy and fun and light and okay and that you enjoyed! Thank you so much for reading!! ā„ļø You can also find more of these two here, here, here, and here! We're so close to getting Jack back on our screens!!!!! And I'm so ready!!!!
Want more Jack and the Pitt content? Check out my masterlist here. I also write for Pope from Animal Kingdom!
Want to be added to my Jack tag list? Interact with this post!
Interact with this post if you'd like to join my Michael Robby Robinavitch tag list, and this post if you'd like to join my Andrew Pope Cody tag list! Each tag list is separate, so be sure to interact with each post for each character you'd like to be tagged for!
13.5k || All my content is 18+ MDNI || CW: car accident thatās DUI related; mildly graphic but within (and lesser than) season one canon level of graphic; blood; broken bones; compound fracture (no real description); internal bleeding and injuries; medically induced coma; severe lung injuries; CPR; coding; being intubated and on a vent; inaccurate medical descriptions and realities; panic attacks; pain killers; lorazepam; extreme grief; extreme anxiety; crying; self-hate; self-blame; regret; compartmentalization; denial; reference to PIV sex;Ā no use of y/n.
Summary: Jack gets a premonition about you at work, but there's no way that feeling can be true, right?
AN: I don't have much to say other than I know this is probably too close to other things Iāve written or at the very least is in my heavily written for, go to genre. Itās just so good I canāt help myself, my brain is wired this way I'm sorry š« š„². I think itās different enough (idk about good though lmao) and it was asked for and based on this request so!! Might be the last fic I write for this kind of situation/trope unless we're okay with more? Or maybe only for someone other than Jack? I don't know. I promise there is much less angsty hurt/comfort and fluff on the horizon and that I'm still working through requests before I get into new series. So, I hope this is enjoyable and thank you for reading if you decide to! ā„ļø
Jack is standing at the hub with Robby, Dana and Lena when he first starts feeling it.
He can't explain it, but he gets a premonition, a feeling like something bad is about to happen. Something bad involving you. A cold chill passes through him and he shivers, his stomach sinking even further and heart rate picking up. Something's wrong. Something related to you. He can just feel it.
But that's absurd.
You're fine. You texted him just before he got to work about thirty minutes ago that you were finally leaving the office and heading home. You mentioned it had been a long day and you wanted to slip into a hot bath since him slipping into you wasn't an option given that he was working.
Jack tells himself it's not that odd for you not to have texted him that you made it home, especially with you saying it had been a long day. It just slipped your mind, he's sure.
Still, he sends you a text. A single, simple text to reassure himself.
J - How's your night going sweetheart? Did you end up taking a bath?
He slides his phone into his pocket and tunes back into the conversation somewhat, but Jack really can't shake the fucking feeling. Once they've finished hand off Jack goes to check on a patient. Thirty or so minutes have passed since he sent you a text when he steps out of a patient room and checks his phone. You haven't responded to his message.
That would make sense if you were in the bath, right? Jack tries to get himself to believe it but he can't because it wouldn't really make sense. Normally you have your phone next to the tub somewhere for a podcast or music or whatever. Maybe you didn't hear your phone go off. Or maybe it's still on silent from work.
Jack calls you. The phone rings and rings and rings and rings until it clicks over to your voicemail. He doesn't leave a message, his chest growing a little tighter with worry as he hangs up. He shoots you another text.
J - I know you probably are, but can you just shoot me a text to let me know that you're okay as soon as you can? Thanks baby. I love youĀ
He forces himself into another patient's room. Still nothing from you when he walks out of the room ten minutes later. Jack calls you again. You don't answer. He's nauseous now, trying to tell himself he can't just feel things like that and that it's just anxiety because he misses you.
When he heads back to the hub he's surprised to see Dana and Robby still there.
"Don't ask," Robby sighs as Jack starts to ask why they're both still here.
Before Jack can ignore Robby and ask anyway Lena interrupts the three and lets them know they've got two MVC patients five minutes out courtesy of a drunk driver, one stable enough and one barely holding on who they almost called at the scene before they were able to get a weak pulse back.
"Can you stay?" Jack looks at Robby. He's sure his anxiety and distress must be on his face because Robby looks at him and doesnāt give him any shit about staying, just nods in agreement. "Thanks."
Jack turns and walks out to the ambulance bay. He knows it's a waste of five minutes but he just needs to pace. Pace and keep calling you.
And so he does. Jack walks up and down the ambulance bay alternating holding his phone to his ear and staring at it willing you to call or text him back apologizing and saying you're fine, you accidentally left your phone in the other room, or you let yourself sit on the bed when you got home and fell asleep and your phone was still on silent from work or something, anything.
But his phone never rings. A text never comes through. Jack's anxiety just continues to build and he promises himself if he's still like this after these two traumas he'll beg Robby to cover for him just long enough so that he can run home and check on you and then come back.
"Jack." He's vaguely aware of Robby's voice calling his name behind him as he paces away from the doors. "Jack." Robby calls again.
"Jack!" Robby finally gets his attention when he paces his way back to the doors. "Hey, man, what is going on? Did something happen? You look like you're about to have a panic attack."
"I can't get in touch with her." Jack doesn't give Robby any further specifics. He knows Robby will know who he's talking about.
"Okay," Robby draws the word out. "Do you have a reason to think something happened?"
"No, I⦠I don't, I just. I don't know," Jack mutters distractedly. "I just feel like something bad has happened⦠like something's wrong with her. I feel it. Like a premonition."
"Maybe this is just going to be a shit show and that's what you're feeling." Robby nods his head in the direction of the sirens that have just become audible. "Or maybe this is the start of a long night of traumas and you won't get out on time tomorrow and will miss seeing her before she goes to work."
Jack nods slowly. "Yeah, maybe." He tries to force his brain to accept the options but it won't. His thumb hits your photo on his favorites and he calls you again. Still nothing. He's going to be sick, has to walk away from Robby and choke back a couple of dry heaves because the feeling that something is wrong with you has gotten so strong that Robby's right. He's getting panicky.
"You okay, Hon?" Dana asks Jack as she walks by him, resting her hand on his back and rubbing it as she pauses next to him.
"Can I ask you a favor you're going to hate me for?" Jack can barely recognize the sound of his own voice with how strained and raw it is. He feels and watches Dana stiffen at it, can feel Robby's eyes on him.
"I'm not gonna hate you for anything," Dana reassures him with a gentle squeeze to his shoulder. "What do you need?"
Jack takes a deep breath. This is fucking insane. He needs to get a goddamn grip. He shakes his head as he goes to tell Dana to forget it, but that's not even close to what comes out. "Can you just stay for a couple of minutes and keep calling her until she picks up?" Jack holds his phone out to her with your contact brought up. "Your phone, my phone, both. I don't, it doesn't matter. Maybe yours, maybe she doesn't want to talk to me."
"Of course." She takes his phone and steps in front of him to look at him. "Is everything okay Jack?"
"I just," he swallows hard, "it's so stupid but I just have this feeling that something's wrong or happened to her and I can't shake it." As Jack thinks more about it his mind at least supplies something concrete, something that he's now so worried about his breathing picks up. "She said she might take a bath so I don't know. I'm worried she hit her head and fell in and drowned or something."
"You ready, Jack?" Robby calls to him.
"Go," Dana nods. "I'll call and let you know the second I hear from her."
"Thank you," Jack nods. The appearance of the first ambulance clears Jack's mind for now. He has to focus on this, on his patient. He closes his eyes and takes in a deep breath and stretches his neck, forces the compartmentalization he needs right now. When he opens his eyes back up he's in fully focused trauma mode, walls built so high he's not feeling anything other than what he needs to in order to do his job. "First or second rig Robby?" he asks as he walks back over to Robby. "You can pick since you're staying to help with this."
Robby hesitates as the first ambulance pulls in. "Second."
"Got it." Jack pulls his gloves on as he walks up to the back of the ambulance as the doors burst open.
"Unrestrained driver, stable most of the way here, but his pulse started getting thready a couple of minutes ago," the paramedic tells Jack as they unload the gurney and start moving toward the trauma room quickly.
"Fuck," Robby mutters just loud enough for Jack to hear. Jack knows Robby must have decided to bet on them getting the most seriously injured patient here first so he chose second in hopes of getting out quickly.
Robby steps up as the next ambulance arrives. "Restrained driver. If it can be broken or fucked up, assume that it is," the paramedic tells Robby with an eerie seriousness as they get the gurney out. The paramedic runs through vitals as they walk into the Pitt and bad would be an understatement.
"What the fuck happened?" Robby asks as they get into the trauma room. "This is the worst MVC vic I've seen in a long time."
"The drunk driver with Dr. Abbot ran a red going at least 60 in a 25. T-boned her car on the driver's side which made it flip and roll into the other lane where she got hit head on favoring the driver's side by a semi going over the limit but at least not fucking 60." The paramedic pauses while they transfer the patient. "You should see the car. I can't believe we got her back and she's still alive. I thought we'd lose her again on the drive over."
"I fucking hate drunk drivers," Robby swears under his breath as the paramedics leave and the Pitt team takes over.
"That was a nice save," Jack tells the team as surgery wheels the patient out of the trauma room and up to surgery. That was almost not a save at all. Jack wasn't sure they were going to get the guy back once he coded but they had managed to, it hadn't even taken that long to get him stabilized and handed off to surgery, only ten or so minutes. The guy wasn't as injured as he looked despite the code.
As he takes off his gloves and gown and comes out of his full trauma focus Jack realizes the bad feeling he had about something happening to you has dwindled significantly, almost completely gone. There's some part of that fact that seems to give him its own anxiety but he's able to ignore it as he steps through the vestibule between the trauma rooms and into Robby's trauma.
Jack steps a bit closer to the bed and looks at Robby's patient, closest to her right side. He obviously can't say for sure since he doesn't know the woman but Jack would bet a lot of money on her being unrecognizable, her face already swollen and darkly bruised, covered in blood from a scalp laceration and her nose. There's dried blood at the corners of her lips and trailing down telling Jack she was coughing up blood or maybe throwing it up at some point. Maybe both. The remnants of dried blood he can just see in her ET tube confirm at least some was coming from her lungs.
He's only looked at her face and it feels wrong to think about right now but Jack can't help but do so. It's patients like this, accidents like this that make him so fucking glad you don't drive to work.
Jack looks up at the monitor. Not a single number is good.
"Those are good comparatively," Robby tells Jack as he continues to work on the woman, tossing out orders and confirming ones given by Parker and Mel.
"Yeah?" Jack moves his eyes to start to take in the rest of the woman, most of her visible skin covered in some amount of blood. She has a visible deformity to her shoulder and wrist on the right, chest tubes on both sides, her abdomen covered in dark bruises, seatbelt sign already visible.
"She desperately needs the OR but we can't get her stable enough for transport." Robby shakes his head as he glances back up at the monitor to see slipping vitals. "Fuck," he mutters. "It would be easier to tell you what's not wrong," Robby tells Jack before Jack can ask.
His eyes continue to move down the woman and he finds a pelvic binder, they must think she broke or dislocated something there, eyes looping back up to check on this side's chest tube output. Jack catches Bridget's eye. "Set up to auto-transfuse her." He's careful not to step too far into Robby's trauma, knows Robby might have a plan, but looking at the number of discarded blood bags and her vitals, it's obvious they're headed there.
"She was removed from the car barely alive, coded at the scene but they got her back. They nearly called her there," Robby explains.
"What happened?"
"Drunk driver t-boned the driver's side at 60 in a 25. Flipped and rolled the car into the other lane, hit head on by a semi over the limit but not 60," Parker explains. She was there when Robby asked.
Jack cringes and clicks his tongue. "She might not ever stabilize, Robby. She might not make it to the OR." He knows Robby knows, but also knows that sometimes it can be helpful to hear it from someone else.
"I know." Robby's tone is a little clipped so Jack backs off.
"Can I do anything?" Jack walks back up towards the patient's head to walk around to her other side, staying as out of the way as possible while still evaluating the patient like Robby will do with his sometimes, just an extra, fresh set of eyes. Her vitals continue to slip. She'll code soon probably, Jack thinks to himself.
The woman has another obvious deformity to her left tibia and fibula about half way up her calf. It's easy to tell with the compound fracture that both bones are involved. Her ankle on that same leg lays against the bed at an unnatural angle that makes Jack wince. He hopes for her sake she was unconscious for most of this.
"What are you thinking neurologically?" he calls to Robby before Robby can answer his first question.
Robby almost huffs a laugh as he steps up to check her pupils again. "Pupils are equal and reactive. All the telling reflexes are normal, no posturing. Portable x-ray shows T-8 to 12 are broken, 11 and 12 look shattered, but she has normal reflexes there too so it looks like no cord damage, knock on wood for her." Robby turns back to Jack and shakes his head. "It's like she's incredibly lucky but also," he gestures to her, "clearly not. She was damn near DOA. She's a fighter though, I thought we were going to lose her within a couple of minutes."
"Yeah," Jack nods slowly. There's something off here but he can't figure out what. Something they're missing. He focuses as he tries to figure out what it is, standing on the patient's left side now and as close to the wall as he can get to let everyone work. He can still hear everything going on and see them working on her but it doesn't really process fully as he tries to figure out what his feeling is.
It hits him just as Ellis moves and the left hand of the patient comes into Jack's view. You drove to work today because you had to run an errand across the city at lunch. So you drove home tonight. You drove.
Time slows and sound fades as Jack steps closer to the patient, takes in the engagement ring the patient's wearing. Even bloodied it's beautiful and bespoke. And Jack knows it's bespoke. Because he's the one that designed it. Because that's your engagement ring.
Which means Robby's patient, Robby's patient who he just said was damn near DOA, who Jack said might not ever stabilize or make it to the OR, that patient is you.
Maybe it's not. Maybe the ring just looks similar or, or maybe someone stole it from you, or maybe, maybe something, anything to make this not true.
Jack moves down to the end of the bed and looks at the patient's right ankle. There's a slightly jagged scar starting just above the medial malleolus that continues about five inches up her inner calf. It's a scar Jack is intimately familiar with, he must have kissed the length of it at least a hundred times while kissing his way from your ankles up to your inner thighs. It's your scar.
All of the air leaves his lungs in some strangled, choked sound he can't hear that gets everyone's attention.
"Jack?" Robby glances over at him.
The bad feeling he had went away because you're here, you're near him. Not because nothing bad happened to you and not because you were okay. Because you're here.
"Michael." It's raw and broken, unrecognizable and absolutely soaked in pain.
"What?" Robby's eyes flash to him. "Jack? What is it?"
It takes Jack a second because he can't pull his eyes from your scar, can't stop thinking about every time he's kissed it, all the sounds from moans to giggles you'd make for him when he did.
"The ring," Jack finally forces out, slowly looking up at Robby, completely helpless and paralyzed. "Her ring, the ring, look atā¦" he glances at your left hand. He knows Robby will recognize it, he made Robby look at it a million times as he designed it and once he got it. "It's, it's," Jack's already working his way toward hyperventilation as panic starts to course through him because he was and is pretty sure this patient is going to fucking die and this patient is you, "it's, Iā¦"
Robby furrows his brows and steps to look at the ring closely. "Oh my fucking god," he mumbles, face dropping and blood draining from it. He looks up at whoever is standing closest to him. "Go get Dana. Now."
There's a small collective gasp or harsh intake of air and then everyone is moving even faster.
"Michael, I can't," Jack pleads with him, voice strained and full of tears he's fighting for some reason.
Dana walks in looking confused. "What's up?" Dana nods at Robby as her attention turns over to Jack.
"It's her." Robby glances at Jack and it's all she needs to know.
"Oh my god," Dana whispers.
Jack's brain is spinning so fast he's close to physically dizzy and almost can't understand any of the emotions he's feeling. But somewhere through it another realization breaks through that has him doubling over in pain, mental and physical, fighting back the urge to be sick and resting his hands on his knees for a few seconds before he straightens back up.Ā
The drunk driver. He mustāve had the drunk driver.Ā
Jack looks to Robby who looks back at him and Jack knows from Robby's face. He did. He treated the drunk driver. He treated the man who did this to you. Who very likely killed you.
"No. No. I'm going to fucking kill him." Jack spins, hellbent on getting to that OR and undoing everything he already did.
Dana's right there to stop him with her hands slightly raised. She shakes her head gently at him. "Let's go." She nods over at the vestibule between the trauma rooms and Jack loses his anger for now, the panic and sorrow and devastation finally overwhelming him as he lets Dana lead him toward the doors.
"Please, Michael," Jack pleads, knees buckling a little because he's ready to get on them at his best friendās feet to beg. "Please, please save her. Please don't let her die, please don't, please-"
"Get him out Dana!" Robby yells.
"Come on Jack, let them work," Dana says softly.
"Please," Jack begs, unable to say anything else. "Please, please please please. I'll do anything, I'll give anything, whatever you want." It's no longer clear who Jack's pleading with, Robby or a god he doesn't believe in.
"Jack." Dana steps in front of him and grabs his upper arms, gently pushes him so that he walks backward into the vestibule.
"I can't, I c-can't Dana," Jack whimpers between heavy breaths. He can't lose you. He can't fucking lose you.
Jack is barely aware of someone bringing in a chair and Dana pushing him down into it, leaving it pointed toward the trauma room so he can see through the window. Or could if the tears still streaming down his face silently weren't so heavy that his vision is so blurred he can't see his legs as he looks down at them.
He starts to rock himself in the chair a little, feels like he's going out of his mind and needs to crawl out of his fucking skin. Jack curls in on himself and digs his hands into the opposite forearms, squeezing so hard it'll bruise and digging his nails into his skin for the pain, hoping in vain it'll ground him even a little bit.
But you're the only thing that could ground him right now. Your voice. Your touch. Your smell. Your taste. Your soft skin under his hand. He can't have that though because you're bleeding out internally on Robby's table, body so likely broken beyond repair.
Jack doesn't have hope. He can't let himself have hope. It's too cruel. The kindest and best thing the world ever did for him, ever gave him, it's about to take away from him.
That's confirmed for him when three words break through Jack's panic enough to have him flying out of the chair and through the doors back into your trauma room. He doesnāt know who said them and it doesnāt fucking matter. "Asystole, start CPR!"
"No no no," Jack nearly screams. The panic he'd been fighting breaks over him completely, vicious and consuming in its intensity. "No please, does, does she need blood?" he chokes out through sobs.Ā
"You can just, j-just hook me up, I'm, I'm O neg, I can donate directly." Jack can feel himself getting lightheaded from his hyperventilated breathing in between his sobs but he doesn't care. Part of him almost wants to pass out because then he won't have to do this, but he also can't stomach the thought of you dying without him holding your hand.Ā
Dana follows Jack just through the doors and grabs his arm, squeezes gently. "Jack, come back and sit down, we don't need you falling, okay?"
"No!" He moves his arm away so it slips from Dana's hand. "She's going to d-die! She's fucking dying! I have to be with her, I have to." Even in this state Jack knows it's a good idea, knows it's what needs to happen, knows there's no good place for him to sit near you in this room while they work on you. Knows that he's hyperventilating now and the lightheadedness taking over is just going to intensify. But it doesn't matter. He can't stop, can't try to control himself. He can only panic about you dying right in front of him and what is he going to do and this can't be real and he needs you.
"I need a PRN lorazepam order for him," Dana calls to the room as she starts walking toward the doors so she can go get it.
Every person in the room who can prescribe it calls out the order and Dana disappears to run and get it. She's quick, comes back through the other trauma room and Jack is so far gone and leaning into the doorframe to keep himself upright when she comes back that he doesn't even fight it when she puts the chair right behind him and pulls him down into it. He has no reaction to Dana cleaning his arm and then sticking him and injecting the lorazepam. He's not even really aware it's happening until it starts forcing him to calm down.
"If we get her back you're taking her up however she is," Robby orders Walsh. Jack hadn't even realized she was here.
"Already my plan, I don't care how weak her pulse is, family's different," she nods at him. "And when. Not if."
Robby holds compressions, everyone's eyes glued to the monitor. "V-fib." Bridget's the first to call it out.
"Fuck yes," Robby mutters. "We can work with that."
Jack watches them shock you three times before they get you back as the meds calm him down at least physically more and more, his sobs reduced to wracking breaths and hiccuped whimpers. He's almost physically numb by the time they're almost running as they wheel you out to get you up and to an OR. But his mind hasn't really shut off much. He's still dying inside.
He forces himself out of the chair and walks into the room, Robby stepping in front of him to block him from leaving and trying to follow you up. "Let them work. Then we can go up, okay?"
"I need to be with her Robby," Jack mumbles, trying to step around Robby.
"Jack, no." Robby steps with Jack and grabs one of his arms without thinking, smearing your blood from the glove Robby hadn't yet removed over Jack's arm.
It works. Not for the reason Robby thought it would. But it gets Jack to stop. It gets Jack to freeze.
Jack brings his opposite hand up and touches it, enough of your blood there to transfer onto the pads of his fingers. The room is silent, or as silent as possible with the Pitt just beyond the doors, as Robby and Dana watch Jack look at the tile floor of the room, watch him fixate on the streaks of your blood and the couple of small pools that had poured from you before they could stop it.
He walks over to one and kneels next to it. It's fresh. Fresh enough that it hasn't started to fully coagulate or dry yet. He leans over it a little and almost scares himself when he watches a drop of something hit it but then he realizes he's crying again and it's one of his tears hitting your blood.
Jack knows it's macabre and unsanitary and probably gross and over-dramatic but he doesn't care, presses his palm of his hand into the small pool of your blood because it's all he's fucking got of you right now. He lifts it up and looks down at his hand, shaking his head and sucking in a strangled breath through his teeth.
"What if this is all I have left of her?" He looks up at Robby and Dana shaking his head, a wave of tears soaking his face as they all finally fall at once. "I have to go. I have to go be with her." Jack is unsteady on his feet as he gets up, Robby and Dana rushing forward to help steady him. "What OR is she?"
"You can't go in Jack," Robby says quietly.
Jack sniffles deeply. "Observation then."
"Don't do that to yourself Jack," Dana whispers.
"I have to be with her. I have to know what's happening so that I can, can go say goodbye before they call it." Jack presses his bloody hand over his heart and holds it there trying to remember how to take a step so that he can start getting to you.
"They will come get you before they call it, I promise." Robby squeezes his best friend's shoulder and cuts Jack off before there can be any arguing. "I spoke with Emery about it. Someone will come."
"Still, I⦠I should watch, I should, should know what's happening, what sheās going through," Jack mumbles.
"She wouldn't want you to torture yourself by watching and seeing her like that." Dana moves so that she's in Jack's line of sight and can get his eye contact. "She would not want you seeing her like that Jack and I know you know that. She would much rather you be in one of the quiet family rooms up there."
"Maybe if I⦠Maybe if I go into observation it'll give her something to yell at me about when she wakes up and so, so it'll make her wake up, it'll mean she'll wake up." All of them know that's bullshit but nobody says it. "I just, I want to be on the same floor as her."
Jack's finally able to get himself moving and starts walking toward the doors, Dana and Robby staying next to them and exchanging worried glances. He can feel the eyes of all the Pitt staff on him as he walks to the elevator, Shen long since called in to take care of the night shift. He thinks vaguely that maybe he should be embarrassed, that they have lots of people who don't react to something like this the way he did. But that would require caring and Jack simply doesn't.
He lets Robby and Dana lead him upstairs and into one of the quiet family rooms Dana had said you'd want him in. He knows she's right. He knows he doesn't want his last memories of you to be images of you in surgery. He knows he probably couldn't stomach it.
The three sit in silence for a few minutes, Jack lost in thought as he stares at a spot on the wall across from him. His brain conjures up some of his favorite memories of the two of you just to be a fucking dick and make him remember what he's so sure he's going to lose.
Jack has no idea how long it's been when he stands and starts to pace. His brain is so tired he can't even articulate what he's feeling other than sadness and anger and anxiety and grief. He opens and closes the hand covered in your dried blood. He should rinse it off but he can't, can't bring himself to do more than have the thought that he should. And he's quiet at first. Until he's not.
"They almost called her at the scene," he mutters to himself. He looks up at Robby and Dana as he walks back and forth. "They almost fucking called her at the fucking scene!" It's louder than he wanted but neither Dana nor Robby react.
Jack runs his clean hand through his hair and pulls at it. "And then what do I do? What do I fucking do?" He releases his hair and grinds his jaw so hard that it hurts. "I fucking save the guy that killed her!" Jack stops pacing at one end of the room, chest heaving as he lets it all slam into him again, gives into the panic and lets it take him over because he doesn't fucking care. He deserves to suffer. He bends at the waist and lets himself hang there for a second because it just feels like what he needs to do before he straightens up and looks at Robby and Dana. "I saved him while she's, while she is," he has to force the word out, broken and cracked, "dying in the next room! If I'd have, haveā¦"
"Jack there is nothing you could've done. You know that," Robby says firmly.
"No I don't." Jack almost huffs a laugh as he shakes his head. "No I fucking don't! I could've done so many things! I could've driven her. I, I could've asked her not to go, or to take a different route, or, or⦠I could've gone to the scene, maybe I could've stabilized her better there. Something! Anything!"
"You had no way of knowing, Hon," Dana tells him. "This shit happens, as awful as it is. We know it happens."
"It's not supposed to happen to her!" Jack snaps, gives back into the urge to hyperventilate as he starts imagining his life without you again. "It's not," he breathes hard but short, "not supposed to happen," another breath, "to her." He continues to hyperventilate. "She," his hyperventilation is even harder and faster than last time, almost like a subconscious attempt to make himself pass out, "she doesn't-"
"Okay, Jack, sit down." Robby walks over to him and grabs his shoulders, directs him toward a chair.
"No, Iā¦" Jack shoves at Robby weakly, "I have to go." Despite his words he slumps into the chair Robby gently pushes him into. "I have to go be with her." He looks up at Robby and shakes his head and it makes everything worse, makes the tunnels invading his vision worse as he starts to shake with the panic. "Need to be."
Dana sits wordlessly in the chair next to Jack and pulls another dose of lorazepam for him, quickly runs an alcohol wipe over his skin and sticks him in his other arm. "Jack breathe," she tells him, takes his hand and puts it on her chest and takes big breaths to show him.
He shakes his head again. "No, I can't." But the lorazepam starts to kick in and forces his breathing to slow. Jack fights it though, he fights the drug hard, tries to keep himself worked up and panicking because he deserves it, he fucking deserves it. It's a losing battle though, the drug easily overpowering him.
"Jack, do you want us to fully sedate you so you can get some sleep?" Robby asks gently.
"No," he mumbles, rubbing his clean hand over his face. "I want my fucking girl. I want to be at home in bed with her." Jack huffs and shakes his head, fights back more tears. "And I need to be awake for when Walsh or whoever comes to get me and take me into that OR. When I have to go figure out how to say goodbye to her." The use of when is deliberate. Because Jack is convinced you're not surviving this and it's going to happen any moment now.
And so Jack returns to sitting and staring at a spot on the wall across from him. He can hear Robby talking to him but he doesn't tune in enough to know what he's saying because as he disassociates this time his brain alternates between his favorite memories of you and playing out imagined scenes of what his life will look like without you in it.
He sees himself having to walk into your shared place alone, having to get into bed without you and just stare at your pillow knowing you'll never be there looking back at him with that small smile again. He watches himself having to pack your clothes away and not being able to do it, sinking to the floor instead and holding one of his favorite shirts of yours to his chest and sobbing into it. He sees himself staring at your shampoo and conditioner every time he's in the shower because he can't bring himself to get rid of it, opens the bottles just to smell them to try and remember how you smelled but it's never the same because they didn't mix with your natural scent.
He watches himself cry silently in bed when he realizes your pillow and the sheets have stopped smelling like you. He sees himself keeping the half eaten pint of your favorite ice cream in the freezer, letting it taunt him every time he opens the door. He sees himself planning a funeral instead of a wedding, having to pick out the outfit you'll be buried in, never being able to cook your favorite dish, never being able to move because he can't live somewhere you haven't been. He watches himself grow old without you, sees the spark and light never return to his eyes.
Time passes. Jack isn't fully aware of it, it's like his brain can't recognize it. It's probably the only reason he hasn't asked for an update yet. He doesn't realize Robby and Dana have been in and out of the room, always leaving one of them with him. Because it's been hours now. He's aware of them asking him if he wants something to eat, trying to get him to have some water at least, does he need to go pee, is he sure he doesn't want them to help him sleep.
"Jack." He barely responds to Robby saying his name, raising his chin just slightly.
"Jack."
Jack had prepared for this. He told himself it was going to happen so that when it did he would be ready. But he was fucking kidding himself because it's happening and he is not fucking ready. His entire world has already been pulled out from under him so Jack doesn't understand how he feels it happening again when Emery says his name.
"No," he whispers, refuses to look up at her and shakes his head. "No."
"Jack-"
"No!" he interrupts her. "No! You go back and fix her! Don't come in here and make me, make, don't ask me to come with you to say goodbye!" Jack stands and takes a few steps but then turns around, unable to face any of them, unable to face reality. āGo fix her, please. Please Emery, please go fix her and save her.ā
"I need you to come with me Jack, I need you to trust me. I'm not taking you to the OR to say goodbye. I'm taking you to her-"
"I don't believe you," he shakes his head and cuts her off, "I don't believe you. You, you, you just want me to go with you, youāll take me there once you have me walking."
"Jack," Robby steps in, puts his hand on Jack's shoulder and squeezes. Jack flinches at it because now he's got Robby comforting him for what he's about to have to go do. "Emery is telling the truth. Let's go to her room."
"Why? So you can tell me she's going to die when we're there?" Jack finally turns and looks between Robby and Emery. "Why don't you tell me right here, tell me what's wrong and what happened and what you did? It hasn't even been that long!"
"It's been over eight hours, Jack," Robby tells him.
"Iām not telling you here because I want to take you to her so that you can be with her as soon as possible. I thought you'd prefer to get to her right away and be next to her when I go through everything with you," Emery explains. "She's stable, Jack. It's still touch and go, yes, but right now she's stable."
Jack stands there for a moment with his chest heaving. He has to be with you regardless, as scared as he is. Even if they're lying and they're going to take him to an OR or take him to see you and tell him you're eventually going to die, he has to be with you.
"Okay," he whispers, starts walking toward Emery and the door. He follows her silently, the tiniest bit of relief washing over him when they walk in the opposite direction of the ORs that's quickly nullified by his anxiety and sheer terror about what he's going to be told, about whether you'll recover.
They step into the elevator and head up to the floor the ICU is on, walk for what feels like forever until Emery turns and opens the door to your room. Jack follows her in, head spinning so much he's surprised he's able to walk and stay upright with how dizzy it makes him.
His heart and mind shatter once again when he takes you in, laying so still in a hospital bed. "Oh," he whimpers, shaking his head as tears start to fall, his face breaking. "My girl." His voice shakes as he walks closer to you, goes to stand next to your bed on your left, takes in all of you, every bruised and cut inch, every tube he knows is sticking out of your body under your gown, your ET tube and your PICC line and your casted wrist in a sling because of your shoulder, what he knows to be an external fixators covered by the blanket keeping your broken leg and ankle together. "My love." He looks up at your vitals and sure enough they're all stable. They're good all things considered, all of them except your pulse ox.
Robby brings a chair up behind Jack. "Why don't you sit next to her, Jack?"
"I, I, Iā¦" Jack trails off shaking his head as he sits, takes your uninjured hand in his clean one so, so carefully.
"Her lungs are the biggest problem right now. The contusions are bad. I'm not going to lie Jack, they're some of the worst I've ever seen. And she has some pretty severe pulmonary edema because of how much fluid we had to give her. We're going to keep her medically induced and on the vent and monitor closely." Emery says āweā even though everyone knows she won't technically be involved, isn't really your doctor anymore because that's just not her job. But they all know she'll be involved anyway, that Robby will too. "Like I said, it's still touch and go, she's having some minor events from time to time but we're able to stabilize her. She's not at all out of the woods but she's stable Jack."
Emery continues, outlining everything they did during surgery for your internal bleeding, all the wounds they found, what they found on scans once they were able to get them. She reports what Ortho did for you, who's taking over your care here in the ICU, that Neuro and Ortho are working together on your spine but it's going to have to wait until you're healed enough to handle being prone for surgery. Jack takes it all in and processes it but it's unconscious in a way because he's fixated on you, staring at you and thinking about you and how much pain you'll be in if and when you wake up.
Eventually Emery finishes, asks Jack if he has any questions. He shakes his head, runs his thumb over your knuckles, clearly spaced out and not entirely there. "Emery." Jack pulls his eyes from you to turn and find her when he realizes she's walking out. "Thank you. And I'm sorry for being a dick. Thank you."
"Of course." She gives him a small smile as she nods once and walks out, leaving Jack, Dana and Robby alone in your room.
"Do you want us to stay?" Robby asks.
"No, Iā¦" Jack turns his head back and lets his eyes find you again, stomach churning as this new reality settles over him. "I think I'd like to be alone with her now."
"Alright. But call if you need anything or anything changes," Dana says as she walks over and squeezes Jack's arm. "We'll be back to check on you both."
"Thank you." He makes himself look over at them. "I'm sorry."
"Nothing to be sorry for, brother. See you soon." Robby gives him a small smile and then walks out with Dana, shuts the door behind them.
Jack is quiet for a moment as he just watches you, studies your swollen and bruised and cut up face. He clicks his tongue behind his teeth, and lets tears fall. "Oh Baby," he sighs lowly, the words shaking. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." He sniffles hard. "I should've, I should've done more. I should've driven you and just not slept. I should've⦠I'm sorry." Jack doesn't know what else to say, just has the overwhelming urge to apologize to you. "I'm so sorry."
He takes in a loud wracked breath as he says it again. "I'm sorry."
Jack stands, keeps your hand in his and leans in and kisses your forehead, the lightest press of his lips against your skin, almost a ghosting more than anything because he's terrified to hurt you, but he just needed to do that. He sits back down and moves the chair closer, looks at you helplessly, as helpless as he feels. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I didn't protect you, I'm sorry I can't fix you, can't make you, make you better. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Please forgive me." Jack rests his forehead on his arm right below his wrist of the hand holding yours so carefully. "Please come back to me. Please. I'm sorry." He starts to weep in earnest. "I'm so sorry."
Ten days or so pass. Jack's not keeping track of time at this point. That's what he tells himself. He doesn't want to know, prefers to live as unaware as possible of how much time has passed without you. With you in a medically induced coma on a vent. Theyād just been able to stop the sedation and take you off the vent. It's a lie though, one designed to make himself feel better. Jack is painfully aware of how much time has passed.
Jack and Robby have been sitting in silence in your room for a few minutes once their general conversation trailed off.
"She's going to wake up Jack."
Jack pushes his lips together and up a touch, shrugs shallowly, doesnāt look over. "You don't know that, Robby."
Robby lets out a deep breath. "True, yeah. But she's only just off sedation and the vent, nobody expected her to wake up immediately. She's a fighter and tenacious and will keep fighting to be with you."
Jack pulls his hand from yours and stands up to pace. "She might hate me if she does."
Robby clicks his tongue. "She's not going to hate you."
"Well guess what Robby, you don't know that either." Jack snaps as he paces. He knows that was shitty of him, knows that Robby is just trying to help in a situation where there's very little to be done. "I'm sorry."
"It's okay," Robby says softly. "I know you're right Jack, but I really believe I'm right too."
Jack nods in acknowledgment. He doesn't know what to say to that because he still isn't letting himself have hope. Or at least not much of it. "You see her car?"
"I think I saw a photo a few days ago, yeah," Robby nods.
Jack walks over to Robby silently and pulls his phone out, brings up the photos and hands his phone to Robby. "Scroll."
Robby looks at Jack for a moment before taking his phone and looking down at it. "Jesus fucking christ," Robby breathes out as he scrolls through the photos of your car.
"I saved him, Robby." Jack starts pacing again to burn off the anger at himself that boils his blood and makes him want to shatter the window and jump. "I saved the piece of shit that did that," he points at his phone, "I saved the man that did this to her." Jack moves his arm to flourish in the direction of your hospital bed.
"He got released a couple of days ago. Got to just walk the fuck out of here, hardly worse for wear." Jack knows Robby already knows this because they've talked about it at least five times but he still needs to say it all again. "I fucking saved him. And it wasn't fucking easy, it wasn't just treating and stabilizing and getting him off to surgery. It was a fucking save. He was fucking dead and I brought him back to life!" His voice breaks over the last word.
Jack stops pacing and walks back over to the edge of your bed, stands between it and his chair. "How is she ever supposed to forgive me for that if she wakes up? How am I ever supposed to forgive myself?"
"You did your job, Jack. She would never hold that against you or be mad at you for that. We both know she'd be upset if you hadn't treated him." Robby pauses. "And, as for how you forgive yourself, I don't know, honestly. Maybe as she gets better and you see that she's not mad at you for it you'll be able to start forgiving yourself."
Jack shakes his head but doesn't verbally argue. He won't forgive himself. Ever. He knows he won't. Maybe, maybe, if you asked him to he could, or at least could some. "I don't know how to do this, Michael."
Robby doesn't say anything, leaves the silence for Jack to fill.
He carefully settles on the edge of your bed, overly cautious to make sure he isn't pressing against you and potentially causing you pain. "I don't know if it's fair to ask her to fight. Her body is so broken, Michael. It's everything. It's fucking everything. My whole girl." Jack sniffles hard as he tries to keep the tears back. He's so fucking tired of crying. "I'm afraid to touch her most of the time. I swear to god every single inch of her is bruised. And so I don't know if it's fair to ask her to be in all this pain and to fight to come back to me and be exhausted. I know she must be tired." His voice cracks.
Jack brings a hand up to your head and strokes your hair so, so gently, puts no pressure on your head, is almost hovering just above your hair more than anything. "I don't know whether to tell her it's okay to let go. That I know she's tired and in pain and that it's okay for her to rest and let go. Because it's not. Not to me. But I don't want her to suffer and what if she's just exhausted and suffering Michael? What if she's feeling all the pain and unable to do anything about it? What if she's fighting for me, hanging on for me, to be here with me and she's in agony and itās for no reason because sheās going to die anyway?"
"We would know if she was in pain, her heart rate would be elevated and it's not. It's perfectly normal. And Jack." Robby lets out a breath. "Even if she is exhausted and in pain, even if she's in agony, I know that she would be perfectly okay and even happy with that if it's what's going to get her back to you."
Jack lets out a small sob at that and leans in, presses a delicate kiss to your forehead with trembling lips and then pulls back a little and gives you a trembly smile as tears soak his face and shirt even though you can't see it, talks to you even though he doesn't know if you can hear him. "I love you, Sweetheart. I love you so fucking much."
Another couple of days pass. Jack loses more and more of the small shard of hope he let himself have as they do. He's barely sleeping or eating or drinking. He's only shaved because the facial hair starts to annoy him at a certain length and Robby brought him some stuff from home including a razor.
If someone asked him what he does all day and night he wouldn't know what to say other than he sits by your side, drags the cot they brought him over and lays by your side sometimes. He's always so far in his head and dissociated that time passes without him really realizing it or needing to do something to keep himself entertained.
He hasn't cried since that time with Robby. Maybe he finally settled into a numbness, maybe he ran out of tears. Maybe he doesn't think he deserves the catharsis and that he should have to deal with it all building up inside of him.
Jack scoffs at himself when he hears you say his name just above a whisper. Great, he thinks, now he's adding auditory hallucinations into the mix. But then he swears he feels your hand move in his and his head snaps from the wall he'd been staring at to you. To your eyes. To your beautiful, beautiful eyes that are open and looking at him. "Oh my god," he mumbles.
"Jack," you repeat his name again, just slightly louder. Your throat and mouth feel like sandpaper, have never been dryer.
"Holy shit," Jack breathes. "You, you, you're awake." He laughs in disbelief. "You're awake!" He's on his feet in seconds, looking down at you with glassy eyes. "Hi Sweetheart. Oh, I love you."
Every inch of you hurts. You can tell you're already on pain meds though with the way it's all a dull throbbing ache. And because you look down your body and see all the evidence of injuries, feel the sling, and know that Jack would never let them not have you on strong pain meds.
"Water?" You want to say that you love him too but you're not sure you could get that many words out with how dry your mouth and throat are.
"Of course, yeah." Jack grabs the pitcher your nurse has filled up every day and set on your tray and pours some into the cup next to it. He unwraps and sticks the straw into it as he brings it closer to you. "Small sips, yeah?"
You nod, barely though because as soon as you start to try it fucking hurts. You take a few sips and the relief feels so good you're pretty sure it eclipses the pain for a second. "Thanks," you whisper when you've had enough.
"Better?" Jack asks as he sets the cup back down. "And let me know if you want more."
"Much." You force yourself to say the word at a normal level and make a face at the sound of your own voice. You don't recognize it. Jack laughs softly because it was adorable, because you're adorable and you're awake and you can talk and you recognize him and maybe, just maybe things will be okay. "And I love you too, so much."
He beams at you as you tell him the words he's been dying to hear. "Your voice will get back to normal."
You hum in acknowledgment and are quiet for a few seconds. "Jack, everything hurts."
His smile fades so quickly into a frown that it's like a knife to your heart. You hadn't meant to make him feel bad. It's not his fault. You don't really remember what happened but you remember your car getting hit.
Jack swallows hard. "I know Baby. I'm so sorry," he murmurs. He gently lets go of your hand and reaches behind you and grabs something, brings it down near your hand and rests his nearby. "Do you want a boost of pain meds? Pushing that button gives you one. And if you can't press it just let me know, okay?"
You'd love a boost of pain meds if you're honest. But you'd love time with Jack more because you can tell he's not okay. Can tell he's so, so not okay. He looks gaunt, almost haunted in a way. He looks like he hasn't been eating or sleeping. It makes you realize it might not be the same day or even the day after you got hit. You can worry about that later. "Won't that make me sleepier?"
"Yeah," he nods. "But that's a good thing, you need to rest Sweetheart." Jack smiles at you softly but internally he's starting to lose it. He feels so selfish because he doesn't want you to sleep. He doesn't want you to close your eyes. He wants to keep talking to you, wants that proof that, at least for now, you're okay.
"In a bit, it's not that bad, honestly." You return his smile, though it's smaller than usual. "I wanna talk to you. I, I don't know how to explain it but I feel like I've missed you. Been missing you." You watch the glass return to Jack's eyes, watch the tears accumulate at his lower lash line but refuse to fall. Your smile fades. "Jack, what happened?"
"I missed you too," he murmurs, pausing for a moment because he has no idea what to say. Where to begin or how to explain or how to tell you he saved the guy that came a nanometer away from killing you. He forces himself to just start. "You were t-boned on the driver's by a drunk driver going 60 in a 25. It rolled your car and then you got hit by a semi head on. And Iā¦" It feels wrong and selfish to get this out now instead of telling you more about your injuries but Jack is stuck. He can't move past it without acknowledging it. "I fucking saved him. You were both brought here and I got his ambulance and I fucking saved him. You coded, your heart stopped multiple times, and I, I saved the man who did this to you." A few tears slide down his cheeks the next time he blinks.
"I saved the man who almost killed you. His heart stopped and I brought him back to life." Jack sucks a ragged breath in through his teeth, eyes reflecting a kind of terror as he makes himself hold your eye contact because it's the very fucking least he can do during this. "And if you can never forgive me for that I understand and can go. Because I'll never fucking forgive myself. I'm sorry. I'm really fucking sorry, Iām so sorry."
"Hey," you say gently, inch your fingers as close to his as possible and brush against them so that he'll take your hand back, which he does even though you know he feels like he doesn't deserve it. "You did your job Jack. How could I ever be mad or upset about that or hold it against you? I'm not and I don't, Sweetheart. I'm glad you did your job. I'm proud of you for doing your job." Jack shakes his head at you to tell you that you shouldn't be. "I am. If you need my forgiveness then I forgive you, but know that I don't think I have anything to forgive you for. And I hope one day we can get you to a place where you can forgive yourself."
Jack wants to believe you, and deep down he does, but at surface level he's still terrified that as you go through recovery and are in pain and having to work so hard that you'll come to hate him. Come to be mad about it and upset and resent him. "Maybe, yeah," he whispers. He knows it's not fair to keep the story here, no matter how hard he's struggling. You asked what happened and you deserve to know what happened to you.
Jack's eyes leave yours for the first time since you woke up except for when he was helping you drink and you watch them glaze over a little. "Jack?" He looks back up at you. "Can I have a kiss?"
He lets out a little breath. How could he have gotten so caught up in everything else that he forgot he can kiss you now. That your lips will actually move back against his. "Always." He leans over you carefully and tilts his head, brings his lips to yours in the softest, most achingly sweet and tender and loving kiss. You sigh contentedly into it and so Jack kisses you again. And again and again. He can feel a little piece of him healing with each kiss. "Thank you," he whispers against your lips before pulling away. You raise your eyebrows slightly. "For helping me when I should be the one helping you."
"You are helping me Jack." You can see your reassurance only goes so far but decide to leave it for now, know him well enough to know that it's not the time to push it.
"We um, we didn't know it was you, when you came in. Robby took your ambulance. Even after I came in and looked at your face we didn't know it was you. You were unrecognizable, your face was so swollen and bruised andā¦" Jack closes his eyes for a second, squeezes them shut hard, trying to get that image out of his mind. You know it.
"Look at me, Sweetheart. Look at me now, Jack." You squeeze his hand lightly.
His eyes slowly flutter back open and flit around your face as Jack lets the image of your face when you first came in fade. "I saw your engagement ring. That's how we realized it was you." Jack starts to tell you all about it then. He knows he should get your nurse and your doctor but he doesn't want to. Doesn't want to share you.
Jack tells you that it's been almost two weeks which is what ends up throwing you the most, not your injuries or Jack saving the guy who hit you, but the loss of time. He promises that he's been here by your side every day, has been sleeping here and showering here, hasn't left your side for a single second. He tells you about the feeling he had, about you coding at the scene and how they almost called you there, how you coded in the trauma room. He explains all of your injuries and what happened during surgery, how your lungs were really bad but have healed well, are still healing, what they think recovery and recovery times are going to look like.
"Well," you breathe a soft laugh once he finishes. Somehow you remember the conversation you and Jack had over text before the accident as you were leaving for work. "Damn. I guess it's going to be a hot minute before I can have you slip inside me or I can slip into a hot bath."
Jack can't help but laugh, it just comes out because it's the most fucking you thing to say in reaction to everything he just told you. He laughs properly for the first time since the morning he spent with you on the day of the accident as you got ready for work, sits back down in the chair and kisses the back of your hand that he's holding as he laughs.
His laughter only lasts so long though. That kind of catharsis triggers another one and Jack slips from laughing properly to sobbing. To sobbing harder than you've ever heard him cry before, harder than he thinks he's ever cried before. Jack lets go completely, every emotion he's been holding onto since he realized it was you in that trauma room pouring out of him through tears and wracked breaths.
He keeps holding your hand, is so careful not to squeeze it tightly, and brings his head down to rest near your thigh where your hands lay intertwined and sobs into the blanket. Jack cries loud and shamelessly, without abandon because it's all his body and mind know how to do right now. That and try to apologize to you as he does so, choking on his words and sobs.
"I'm, I'm, I'm sorry I save-saved him." The words are strained, like he can barely get them out, can barely control his breathing long enough to choke them out. "I'm so-sorry, you, you don't deserve th-this, I, I, Iā¦"
Jack hates this. He fucking hates it and himself for doing this to you, putting you through this when you just woke up. He hates that he's not taking care of you, that you're having to take care of him right now, having to try and calm him down when he should be there for you.
Seeing him like this breaks your heart, is made all the worse by the fact that you can't do anything to comfort him. You can't tell him to get in bed with you or rub his back or kiss him or wipe away his tears because you can't fucking move really. When you pull your hand from his he cries a little harder for a second until he feels your hand in his hair, weaving through his curls to scratch at his scalp how you know calms him.
You start to feel bad yourself because it feels like this is your fault, like Jack is feeling this way because of you. It's obvious how much he's been through, how he's been living here and hasn't been taking care of himself because he's too worried and depressed over you. And that's your fault. If you hadn't driven to work that day, if you had just done that errand another day. Tears start to slide down your face, for the way you start to feel responsible, yes, but also at watching Jack hurt like this, watching him be consumed by it.
"Jack, Sweetheart, you have nothing to apologize for my love." You say it just loud enough for it to be heard over his sobs. "None of this is your fault and I'm not mad at you for doing your job, Baby."
"S-still!" He's crying so hard now that he's shaking and choking, almost gagging and dry heaving at moments because he's so completely unregulated. "I, I'm sorry for not protect-protecting you, and for being like this." The last word is ragged, he chokes on it, starts coughing.
"Okay Jack, shhh," you soothe him, continuing to run your fingers through his hair and scratch at his scalp. "Don't try to talk, Baby, just let it all out and we can talk later, I promise."
You're relieved when Jack seems to follow your advice and lets himself cry without trying to say anything to you. His anger at himself makes it all worse. This isn't how he wants to be spending this time with you. He knows you're going to get really tired here soon, that you probably already are and are fighting it, and will fall back asleep and he doesn't want to waste moments with you. He can't help it though. Jack cries until he physically can't anymore and is just sniffling and taking in wracked hiccuped breaths as he tries to come down.
He moves his face so that one side is pressed against the mattress, the back of his head to you, in part because he grabs a tissue off the tray and in part because he doesn't want you to see him like this. You keep your hand in his hair as you give him a chance to collect himself, let him blow his nose and wipe away his tears and get his breathing back to normal before you speak.
"Jack?"
"Yeah Sweetheart?" He still can't bring himself to turn and look at you. He feels ashamed and he knows he must look like a mess, he can feel how swollen his eyes and lips are, and he knows it's going to hurt you, be hard for you to see and make you sad.
"Can I have a kiss?" Your ask has the desired effect, you can see some of the tension melt off him at the thought of kissing you, can see him perk up if only a little.
Jack sniffles hard one last time and then lifts his head, grabs your hand as you let it fall from his hair and kisses your palm. You have to work to keep the frown off your face when you see him, see how totally and completely destroyed he looks. You hate that you can feel yourself growing even more tired and everything getting more painful because you don't want to fall asleep on him. You can only hope that crying like he did for as long as he did combined with the clear lack of sleep he's had recently will exhaust him and finally let him get some good sleep now.
He furrows his brows when he sees the dried tear stains on your cheeks. "I'm sorry," he whispers, "I didn't mean to make you cry too."
"You didn't," you whisper back. "The situation did."
Jack grabs a tissue and gently wipes away the salty marks left on your skin by your tears. He shrugs. You know he doesn't believe you and that's okay. You didn't expect him to. That's something that's going to take time and healing.
"I love you," Jack murmurs as he leans in and gives you the kiss you asked for, still so gentle with you but letting this one escalate when you run your tongue over his lip. He doesn't let it last very long though, still concerned about your breathing and lungs even though they're looking much better. You manage to pull the smallest laugh from him when you make a little noise of discontent as he pulls away. "Gotta make sure you can breathe, Sweetheart."
You give a slight teasing grumble but know he's right, could feel yourself getting breathless far quicker than normal. Than before the accident.
"I love you too." You tilt your head at him just a little and smile. It's soft and not that big but it's genuine, it meets your eyes and it is the most beautiful sight to Jack, makes his heart skip a couple of beats and some of the heaviness lift. "We're gonna be okay, Jack. I know you can't believe that right now and I understand why and that's perfectly okay, Baby. But we have each other. You have me and I have you. So I know we're gonna get through this and we're gonna be okay."
A year passes. To say your recovery was difficult would be an understatement. You're not sure whether you even consider yourself fully recovered at this point. You suppose you are. You're back to work and can do pretty much everything you could do before the accident, including Jack. You still have a lot of pain at times which irritates you more than anything but you know it could be much, much worse. You're down to only seeing your physical therapist once a month but you still have exercises and stretches you have to do every day.
Psychologically⦠things were rough for both you and Jack. Maybe even worse than your physical recovery some days. You didn't have much memory of the actual crash itself until you got in a car for the first time after it and it all came flying back. You'd absolutely fucking lost it in the backseat with Jack, panicking harder than you ever have before, beyond grateful that Robby was driving and Jack was there next to you.
Today is the one year anniversary of the accident. You and Jack have been enjoying each other and the peace and quiet that comes with the extremely remote and unbelievably nice lake house he found to rent for a week. It's your second day here. Jack needed to be way the fuck out of the city on the anniversary, needed to be somewhere he didn't have to see or hear a car or an ambulance. You were more than okay with that, felt the same exact way and told him you wanted to spend the actual day wrapped up in him in bed in a little cocoon of safety.
You and Jack are in the obscenely big tub in the master bathroom. It has built in seats and everything and almost feels more like a hot tub they just put inside than a bathtub. Despite the fact that there's two seats you are, of course, resting on top of Jack with your back to his chest.
He's been treating you like glass all day. It's something he still falls into from time to time and you get it, you truly do. You're not at all surprised it popped back up today, nor do you really care. It means that the sex today has been so incredibly soft and slow and loving. You spent a fair amount of the day just cockwarming in bed, laying on your sides tangled together with Jack inside you as you chatted or made out.
The two of you have been in the bath a while now. It's a post sex bath and it's perfect. You're pretty sure you could fall asleep on Jack if you let yourself. You don't though, want to be present in the moment with him. You play with his wedding ring under the water and occasionally he'll move his hand quickly so that he can get his hand on top of yours and play with your wedding and engagement rings.
You haven't been married long, only two-ish months. After what happened you and Jack were talking one day while you were still in the hospital and you both expressed not wanting to wait. The only reason you waited as long as you did was because you didn't want to get married in the hospital and you wanted to be out of all casts and braces so that they weren't in photos.
It was a small, intimate self-uniting ceremony, the two of you surrounded by your closest friends and family. Instead of a big reception you'd rented a party room at a local restaurant for good food and drinks and a little dancing. It was perfect. It was you and Jack.
Jack breathes a little laugh to himself.
"What are you laughing at Dr. Abbot?" you hum.
"I know it's not the first time this has happened since the accident but I couldn't help thinking to myself right now that you got me slipping inside of you and to slip into a hot bath." He turns his head and kisses your temple, laughs again a bit louder this time. "I can't believe that's how you reacted to me telling you everything that happened and all your injuries."
"Yes you can." He can hear the smirk in your voice.
"Yes I can," he's quick to agree, wraps his arms around your torso and pulls you closer to him. "I don't think I realized it at the time but I think subconsciously that was the moment where I realized you were going to be okay because you'd just woken up after this horrific accident and been told all this awful shit that happened to you and that was your response, that incredibly you answer." He kisses your temple again and lets it linger. "It was just so you and I had missed you," he whispers, trying not to get emotional about it. "I had missed you so fucking much."
"I had missed you too, Baby," you murmur. "I love you Jack. More than you'll ever know."
"I love you more, pretty girl," Jack hums.
You shake your head against him. "That is simply not possible."
"It is indeed possible and true." This time you can hear the smirk in his voice.
You lean up off his chest and move off his lap and Jack whines, pulling a chuckle from you. But you don't go far, just turn yourself over and sit back on his lap perpendicular to him with your back against the tub wall so that you can see him. You shake your head but before you can argue Jack presses one of his thumbs to your lips. "Yes."
You press a kiss to the back of his thumb. "No," you murmur against it. You give it another kiss before quickly taking it into your mouth and nibbling at it gently.
Jack gasps in fake surprise. "Don't bite my thumb!" You smirk around his thumb and then release it, give it another quick kiss. "I think we're going to have to agree to disagree on this one, Sweetheart."
"That's fine," you shrug. "I know I'm right."
Jack rolls his eyes at you affectionately and then wraps his arms around you and pulls you close as you move to get closer to him. Your lips meet in a searing kiss that never quite seems to stop as you start making out. It's sloppy and hot and messy teenager shit almost but that's what makes it so fucking good right now.
It doesn't long for hands to start roaming, for you to get wet and Jack to grow hard again. "Let me take you to bed again. Let me have you again," Jack mumbles against your lips. "Please."
You answer the same way he asked. "Please." You kiss him one more time because his lips are right there and you can't resist. "Please Jack."
Jack nods, looks at you with blown, lust heavy eyes. He gets you out of the tub and both of you dried off, takes you back to bed and finally lets himself kiss every single one of your scars from the accident before he shows you how much he loves you and what you mean to him, the two of you nuzzling noses and breathing against each otherās lips before kissing slowly and swallowing down each other's moans as you climax at nearly the same time.
As you bask in the afterglow together, Jack laying on top of you and you running your hands through his curls and over his shoulders and up and down his back, a thought hits Jack.
"You can say it, you know," he says quietly. "I told you so. You can say it."
"I don't like doing that, it always ends up feeling mean, even when it's teasing." You pause for a couple of seconds. "I also have no idea what I would be saying it about."
"Us being okay and getting through what happened." He can't quite bring himself to say 'the crash' today. "You told me that we were going to be okay and you knew we'd get through it and at the time, I didn't believe you, I couldn't let myself believe you." He lets out a long breath and shrugs. "But you were right."
"Jack," you say softly, "I don't need to say-"
"Please," he cuts you off. "Please say it. I want you to say it. I need you to say it." Jack has no idea why he suddenly needs this now but he does. He knows it's his brainās way of trying to get himself to accept that when something bad happens and you tell him that you guys will be okay he should believe you. He can believe you in that moment.Ā
Because while Jack hopes that something as bad as the crash never happens again, he knows that some bad things will happen, that there will be hard times because that's life. And you told him you guys would be okay and you were right. So he just needs to hear it as silly and stupid and dumb as that might be or at the very least feel.
"Do you want me to be like⦠sassy? Or serious?" you ask, trying to infuse some lightness back into the situation for him.
Jack laughs, kisses your chest. He loves you so much he doesn't know what to do with himself half the time. "Surprise me."
You take a moment to consider and then tug on his hair gently so he'll look up at you and he does. "I told you so." You try so hard to say it with sass and a smirk but it doesn't quite hit because you can't keep the brightest smile off your face because you love him and you guys were and are okay and he's your husband and you have the rest of your lives together. Jack adores that smile, loves it so much and finds it so adorable and beautiful he could bite you with how hard the cuteness aggression hits him. But he doesn't, laughs softly instead.
"Yeah," Jack nods, smiles back at you just as brightly and brings his face closer to yours so he can kiss you once heās finished his sentence, "you did."
I just love exploring the range of ways I think Jack would react to reader being critically injured and I think it would depend so much on who else was there. I think with Robby he knows that he doesnāt have to do it or keep it together, he can lose it because he trusts Robby so implicitly and thereās nobody else heād rather have treating reader, not even himself. (Not that he doesnāt trust or think the other Pitt doctors are good doctors, just, you know.).Ā But I can also see it a million other ways where it still feels true to him.
Anyway, thank you so much for taking the time to read and your support! ā„ļø As always, I'd love to hear your thoughts and comments, they mean so much to me!
Want more Jack and the Pitt content? Check out my masterlist here. I also write for Pope from Animal Kingdom!
Want to be added to my Jack tag list? Interact with this post!
Interact with this post if you'd like to join my Michael Robby Robinavitch tag list, and this post if you'd like to join my Andrew Pope Cody tag list! Each tag list is separate, so be sure to interact with each post for each character you'd like to be tagged for!