Work Text:
March 24th, 2025
PTMC ED - 6:27 pm
You wouldn't exactly say you've been purposely avoiding Abbot, but you haven't really been going out of your way to interact with him in your brief final stint in the day shift either. Things were a bit awkward after your last interactions on the roof—as in you were awkward, he seems fine—and the accidental cuddling in the on call room didn’t help much with that. Vulnerability is a tricky thing and maybe the distance would help until you were back to working nights with him again. All that would work if he didn’t show up to work early and you didn’t leave late, of course.
Things were going well in the day shift so far. You liked your coworkers, they were never the problem. The sleep deprivation was definitely getting to you, though.
As usual Abbot came in early today, walking into you as you ran back to a patient with a hospital phone still in hand after hanging up. He steadied you by the shoulders as you stepped to the side taking him with you avoiding a small puddle of blood by Room 18.
"Whoa, what's all this about?" Your hurry or the blood? Not enough time to discuss but you still opt to haphazardly present the case instead of making small talk.
"Three days post mastectomy patient's drain just fell out."
"Oh." He steps back from you holding his hands behind him, alert to what you're saying maybe in case you need his help. You're glad you don't.
"Yeah, environmental is already on it and the Plastic Surgeon that worked on them is in the elevator down for a consult, I'm just waiting on labs. Excuse me." And you leave him there in the hallway.
Some time later now past your working hours you're finishing up charting sharing a work station with McKay before leaving.
"How was it in pedes earlier? I had to get back to a patient and missed any updates."
"The foreign object was a bag of silica gel. The kid passed it not long later and went home unscathed."
"It was a boy, right?" Nothing surprises her at this point.
"Yeah." You smile at her tired but knowing expression. "Did Harrison ever pull one of those on you?"
"Multiple times." She continues typing as if still bored.
"What happened with your patient?"
"It was a kitchen accident, some burns and a hairline fracture on her left foot from dropping a heavy skillet. Okay, I'm done. Heading out, see you tomorrow."
"See you." As your eyes follow her frame to the lockers you spot Abbot looking at you from his computer in the hub with a serious expression. Time to head home too.
March 27th, 2025
PTMC ED - 6:32 am
It's the morning again and it feels like you haven't slept for days. Probably cause in a way, you haven't. You get to the ED early most times and Dana is already there. You can see Abbot and Robby talking by the elevator too, great.
"What happened to your finger, dollface?" Right, the bandage.
"Blender blades vs. Me, the blender won." Just another night awake cooking when you should have been sleeping, the usual.
"Keep that finger out of trouble, okay? I don't wanna see you touching anything without gloves today."
"I bandaged pinky swear it." She lightly intertwines her finger with yours and leaves the hub to go about her day, when you look to where the attendings were standing, Robby is the only one remaining, looking at a tablet as he rubs his beard.
"Let me see that." There he is, that unmistakable voice now beside you. Damn him and his quiet steps.
"I'm fine." And I'm avoiding you, can't you read the room?
"Didn’t ask how you were, I said let me see that." He sets new bandages he apparently took from nowhere on the counter and grabs your hand already removing the bandages you wrapped up last night. How very rude and caring of him.
He doesn’t seem very pleased eyeing the red skin. "This is borderline infected."
"So, not infected." You look at his focused face as he tends to your hand and who would’ve thought he had this many freckles up close.
"Expect you to do a better job than this." Not fighting him on that this time.
"It's fine, it's just irritated, Abbot." He proceeds to clean your very minor cut, applying some ointment before bandaging it up again—more neatly than you did with your non dominant hand of course.
"Talk to me after you collapse from sepsis."
"You'll be the first I'll talk to when I wake up from my fever dreams." His top lip twitches at that but he keeps the serious expression.
"Keep that clean, change it again before you leave."
"Yes, sir." You salute him with your uninjured hand and he shakes his head at you, leaving with his usual down turned lips and pinched eyebrows. Figures.
PTMC ED - 7:07 pm
You were finishing up some charts when Robby asked you to follow him up to Trauma 1 for one last thing before you went home. He said Abbot asked for you specifically and knowing him and seeing the room full of people post procedure we would either ask you to run by some protocol since you weren't in the case or ask you to babysit the patient for a few minutes before he went up to the OR since you were done for the day anyways.
You saw Abbot leaning over the intubated patient once Robby moved away from you and whatever it was he wanted you didn’t get to know since the room went quiet if not for the constant equipment beeping when Abbot looked at you seeming surprised.
"What the fuck?" That should be your line, not his. Perlah leaves the room eyeing you with a worried face and Walsh and Robby turn to look at you after his reaction, now also seeming worried but more so intrigued by Abbot's reaction.
"What? I thought you asked for me?" What is it now?
"Robby, take this over." He proceeds to walk over to you as Robby gets in his place checking on the patient.
"Not like I have anything better to do, like leaving." Complaining is a day shift given right apparently.
Abbot doesn’t seem to give one shit about the case anymore, removing his surgical gown and gloves, steering you away from the Trauma Room by the shoulders with one hand, the other one shoved at your nape guiding your head up as we walks you to the closest empty room.
"What the hell?" In seconds he has you sitting in Room 22 like you're dying, and for what?
"Your nose is bleeding." And just like that the blood gets to your mouth making you make a face at the metallic taste, trying to push his hands away as he tries to shove tissues in your face.
"I can deal with it, your patient-
"Robby's got it. Stop that with your hands, you're gonna bleed on the bandage." You allow his care after that.
You look down for a moment catching your now bloody scrubs and his partially bloody hands.
"Can you at least get some gloves on, I'm getting blood all over you."
"It's your blood sweetheart, I don't care." What the fuck, Abbot. Focus.
He wouldn’t lie and say he didn’t panic a little bit when he saw the red streak coming down your face when you got in the Trauma Room after Robby. He asked him to call you in to run the case by you after they stabilized the patient—also to ensure you'd listen and follow the other Attending in instead of making an excuse like you've been doing with him lately—feeling like it was a good learning case but he couldn't find you when the ambulance brought the patient in. He didn’t even remember what the case was about now that he had you squinting at him as he held your head up with the tissues over your nose.
You sniff in making a displeased face. "Are you feeling any dizziness, pain?" Please don’t feel any dizziness or pain.
"I'm fine, you don't have to fuss over me." Too late for that, Trouble. "I get these sometimes because of the constant aircon."
"How often?" He's about to order labs on you, give him something.
"Not often enough to keep track. It's okay, I promise. See?" You push his hands down removing the the bloody tissues and the bleeding has already stopped.
"You sure you're okay?"
"Yeah, I'm good. Thank you." You get up from the bed and he leans on it as you stop by the opened curtains. "Why did you call me in there for?"
"Nothing critical, you can go home if you'd like."
"Okay. I'm sorry about the blood."
"It's fine, don't apologize." Washing you away is the least of his worries.
March 29th, 2025
PTMC Roof - 6:52 pm
Jack would absolutely say you've been purposely avoiding him. He’s trying to go out of his way to interact with you and you barely acknowledge him, when you do it is to usually leave him with an excuse to not work a case he suggests you assist, or to work on a different one someone else mentions.
He’s getting tired of all the 'I've got it', 'I took care of it' and 'I have to check on this' he's been hearing from you before you walk off to do something else. Seems like you were running on 'A moving target is harder to hit' logic and he fell for it every single time. He felt like you shared a good rhythm from your few night shifts and it seems all gone now in the little time you spent in days. His eyes still followed you around the ED the instances he didn’t go after you himself.
He thought you'd maybe pretend nothing happened with the way you tried to leave him sleeping in the on call room the other day. He woke up right before you so it was a waiting game to see who moved first. The thing is he was very comfortable and how he ended up holding you in his arms in his sleep wasn't really any of his business in that moment. So you not only acting like nothing happened but also avoiding him was starting to get him a little hurt, if not annoyed. That he could deal with.
He's actually surprised to find you on the roof one night before starting his shift.
"What are you doing up here in this cold?"
"Just some thinking." You eye him beside you with a neutral expression.
"That’s never good."
"Yeah, tell me about it."
"Did your nose act up again after that day?"
"Not another drop since." You push away from the railing starting to walk back towards the roof's access door.
"Where are you going?" Not like he wanted to make conversation and ask about your shift, or your week.
"Gonna try and sneak a visit to a patient in post op before shift change, I'll see you tomorrow."
March 30th, 2025
PTMC ED - 7:03 am
And then tomorrow came and you still barely gave him the time of day in the morning when you came in before he left. Except for one quick moment in the hub as he sat near where you finished charting for a minute.
"I think I forgot what it's like to not have a headache." You spoke either at Dana or no one in particular, he doubted it was intended to him at this point.
"She speaks." He tries to circle back to your usual banter but it doesn’t quite land.
"Don't sound so excited." You get up from your chair to look for a patient on the board and Dana seeing him quietly watching you decided it was time to rub it in.
"Do I need to put you two in get along scrubs? What's going on?"
"Nope." It's all you say before walking away.
"Not necessary." He's almost in need of a straight jacket himself by now with how much he's thinking himself into a hole to get you to talk to him like before again. As luck would have it he doesn’t need to think much almost twelve hours later.
PTMC ED - 6:39 pm
He's in early again and as the paramedics finish wheeling the gurney in he meets you trying to walk away from him in a hurry again.
"I want you in on this, it's a good learning case."
"I can't, I gotta get back to my patient it might be really serious. Maybe next time." And just like that you're gone again.
About twenty minutes later he comes out of the Trauma Room nursing a mountain of paper towels to his left hip, stopping by the hub to see if he can spot you anywhere. Nothing.
Dana is in her usual spot, squinting at something on a tablet before she looks up at him and by her face he's sure he's more pathetic looking than usual right now.
"What did you get yourself into this time?"
"It's a minor thing, where is open?"
"Try room 18. I'll get someone to help."
"No need, I've got this." Time to lick his wounds on his own again.
He stopped by the lockers for his bag and had just gotten everything he needed on the bed for the wound care when the curtains opened.
"What the hell?" There you are.
"It's nice seeing you too." He lowers the shirt he was removing, sitting on the bed instead.
"I had a patient call, they forgot their laptop here." Right.
"Environmental probably took it to lost and found."
"Oh." Don't look so disappointed, Trouble. You then seem to notice the bunched up bloody paper towels shoved on the side of his cargo pants. "What happened to you?"
"Surgical instrument shrapnel."
"Very funny." You don't seem to think so as you close the curtains back up walking closer to him and peeling the improvised bandage to take a look.
"The patient had a seizure before we started the procedure and ended up knocking out the surgical tray with everything, the scalpel clearly had an affinity for me." He actually removes his shirt now and you sit down on a rolling bench looking up at him like you're done with him already.
"You could have just lifted it up."
"There's blood on it, I have to change anyways. Bio hazard."
"Right. Wanna take off your pants too?" You get gloves on without even asking him if you can help.
"Buy me dinner first." You don't give his jokes much of a reaction either.
"Can you lay on the bed for me, at least?"
"I thought you'd never ask. But is all this really necessary?"
"You need stitches. If not for your comfort then for my back, Abbot. Can you do that?" He sure can, when you ask so nicely.
"Nice bedside manner, Doc."
"Learning from the best. I expect a nice patient score, by the way."
Well, since you're busy stuck waiting on the local anesthetic to work to stitch him up, it might be the time to talk to you without you running off again. Silver Linings.
Well, fuck seeing his freckled face from up close. His entire body is covered in freckles, and muscles. You're trying really hard to play it cool here but the closeness it's not helping, at all. There's a small but deep gash on the line of his hip and he even lowered his pants and side of his boxers for you. How thoughtful, Abbot. Fuck you.
"I wasn't asking you back there, you know that, right?" You look at his face and he dares raising his eyebrows at you.
"Excuse me? Do you really want to have this conversation right now as I'm about to stab you repeatedly with a needle?"
"Once again, mind your bedside manner, Trouble." That fucking nickname again.
"You're so frustrating."
"I wanted you on the case and you walked off."
"I had something urgent to get to."
"You got any problems with authority?" He has a death wish, it seems.
"Clearly not if I'm stitching up said authority."
He lets you work for a minute before speaking up again.
"What did you have?" You look at him again and he's still watching you.
"Postpartum mom came in complaining of back pain and fevers after getting a blood patch done with an anesthesiologist upstairs the other day after complications with her epidural."
"And?" Don't sound so invested. You continue working on him for a second focused on your sutures.
"She has an infection. I was waiting on labs and said anesthesiologist to grace us with his presence for a consult, he had just called me he was here. You might wanna complain with him, instead."
"Nah, I'll leave the complaining to you."
"Thought so. There, all done." You finish patching him up with a slight tap on the hip, gaining a low 'Ow' from him. Pity.
He appraises your work. "Thanks, Doc. No follow up care instructions?" He sits up now, standing as you get up from the bench removing your gloves.
"I'm sure you know them by heart at this point."
"They would still be nice to hear from you." Is he seriously flirting with you right now?
"Do you need a blood panel, the whole nine yards?" You avoid looking at him in all his shirtless glory focusing instead on discarding the used materials. Enough of his freckled chest, bulging biceps and stupid smirk.
"Nah, the scalpel was still sterile. I'm lucky like that." Luck doesn’t have anything to do with this.
"Your call. You want me to get you a shirt in the scrub machine?" Let's just cover you up in in the curtains maybe, anything goes at this point.
He fucking smirks shaking his head no. "And miss the opportunity of a walk of shame out there?"
"Oh, I'm sure you're very embarrassed about all this."
"Mortified." He leans down behind one side of the bed lifting up his camo print backpack. "My bag is already here."
"Okay." He's prepared like that. "Who's filling up the incident report?"
He fakes confusion at your question. "On what? Nothing happened. We can keep this between us."
"Right. Try to stay out of the way of the next flying sharp object you see." You open the corner of the curtain to leave the room for him to finish changing as he speaks at your back.
"And miss out on a moment like this?" Insufferable man.
April 2nd, 2025
PTMC ED - 6:39 pm
It's about to be your second day on the night shift and yesterday was a weird one again and Jack is pretty much done with your bullshit.
He saw you coming in earlier heading to the lockers like he wasn't even there when he was talking to Robby by the scrub machine. Then you vanished again.
Resorting to bug Dana about it he approaches the hub ready to ask about you.
"Hey, have you seen-
He doesn’t get to finish his sentence, but he's sure she knows exactly who he's referring to.
"Try asking Saint Anthony, we're too busy for me to find anyone today." Seems like Dana is done with him too.
He pretends to think it over. "She doesn’t work there, last time I checked."
"Ha ha, if you have time to joke around you go and look for her. Scram."
He didn’t see you with any patients and he already checked the roof. Only one place left.
PTMC On Call Room - 6:45 pm
There you are once he opens the on call room door, getting in and slowly closing it after himself. He leans on the door in case you try to escape again, looking at your folding a pair of scrubs in the dimly lit room into your bag, your back to him.
"You really need to learn how to lock doors."
You startle throwing a scrub shirt at him once you turn around.
"Don't sneak up on me like that I almost elbowed you in the ribs."
"I probably deserve it the way you been hiding from me."
"I'm not hiding."
'"Avoiding maybe, semantics."
"I don't know what you're talking about, Abbot." There you go with his surname again.
"That." He points at you returning the scrubs to your bag. "When it's not an excuse you just walk away. Most of the walls are glass here, I can see you turning around when you spot me."
"Dr. Abbot-
"Jack." He'll insist if he has to. "I think we're past that point, don't you?" He wanted you to call him by his actual name again. Like you did sleepy and soft the other day in this same room. When you forgot you were supposed to be mad at him for some reason and exhaustion took over. "We've seen each other crying and slept together, I think we're past the titles, no? You can call me Jack."
"We didn’t sleep- Can you say that any louder?"
"I'm sure I could. Did I do something?"
"You didn’t do anything." You continue on organizing your bag.
"Surely feels like it."
"Nothing happened, Jack. We're fine." There it is. Passive aggressive but still there.
"Doesn’t seem like we are. So what was it?" You looked at the bed and not at him. He had his suspicions but that confirms it.
"Did you regret it?"
You shake your head still avoiding his gaze. "I actually slept better that day than in a long time."
"So did I. You don't have to embarrassed about it, I'm not."
You sit down on the bed and he does the same, still keeping a distance from you.
"I thought my snores bothered you?"
"You don't snore." You push his shoulder at that. Back to normal it seems.
"How's you hip healing?"
"Nicely. Thanks to you. How about your hand?" You show him your now bandage free hand with a fresh new scar.
"Guess we're even now." He did give you stitches once too.
"What are you doing here?"
"Forgot some clothes after I napped the other day after a day shift."
You just sit in silence for a minute before he gets up offering his hand to you.
"You ready to head back out there?"
"Do I have a choice?" He shoulders your bag and you don't protest on your short walk back to the pitt before you see the contents of this scrub pocket once you step into the Emergency Department's bright lights once again.
"Is that my pen?"
"No idea." It is your pen.
"It has my name on it." You grab it from his pocket looking at him offended.
"Coincidence." Petty revenge after you asked him to sign on something the other day leaving so fast he couldn't even give it back to you.
"Thief." Here we go again.