butyoudidthis4what
butyoudidthis4what
Perpetual Uncertainty
1K posts
Mich | she/her | 29 | loves to chat | currently the Pitt | 18+ only
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butyoudidthis4what · 11 hours ago
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Pleaseeeee do pope with stripper reader!! I will forever be in your debt!
It will be happening 😂 there are now way too many thoughts in the notes app of my phone for it to not happen. I'm only on season 2 right now so I'd like to get at least a little further in to get a better read on him, but I'm thinking about it very loosely following the character development we see on the show with him, but probably at a somewhat accelerated pace with Reader. I have 100% already seen them meeting in my mind and have all that down.
I'm still trying to decide how exactly I want to play it all out but my thoughts so far are:
slow burn, like reallllllllllllly slow burn
almost a type of friends to lovers vibe
reader doesn't have sex with customers (makes the storyline a bit less complicated for me)
Pope gets almost a little obsessive how he does but reader likes it
reader is absolutely not at all scared of Pope
reader's personality is somewhat the opposite of Pope's in the sense that she talks more, teases him from the beginning, is confident in herself BUT she meets Pope where he's at and doesn't try to force him to engage
reader has some sort of very flexible day job, right now I'm thinking she's an author with a book deal
I'm going to have to come up with some nickname that only reader calls Pope (I want her calling him something special so not Pope, Andrew is out because someone I'm very close with has a partner named Andrew, and Andy is the name of a dead uncle so I'm a little torn on that one but it could probably be fine) so if you have suggestions for that let me know
Thoughts? Opinions? Feedback? Ideas? I'm open to it all as I let this percolate in the back of my mind. Feel free to comment in replies or asks or DMs.
I know this probably isn't what some people wanted or expected when they heard stripper!reader with Pope, so I'm sorry if it doesn't float your boat, and if it appears to float nobody's boat then maybe it'll change.
Thank you for sending in this ask anon! I love hearing from everyone! ♥️
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butyoudidthis4what · 22 hours ago
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notes & warnings: reader is described as younger and energetic, mentions of therapy, implied depression
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Thinking about Robby who’s been going to therapy and has finally been convinced to take a break and go on vacation, so he rents a secluded place in a gorgeous picturesque small town and gets ready for two weeks of uninterrupted reading, relaxing and sipping on his favourite whiskey.
So imagine his surprise when he shows up to said vacation house and there’s already someone there. Not only that, but you also claim to have booked it for the next two weeks and even show him the confirmation. And after calling the owner to clarify, it turns out they’ve made a mistake and double booked the place.
Despite knowing the small town had an annual festival going on, he was hopeful he’d find another place so he wouldn’t have to spend his days with a stranger, but everything was fully booked for at least the next five days.
And while he strongly considered packing up and making his way back home the next day, telling himself he couldn’t handle entertaining this energetic younger stranger for two weeks when he was supposed to be resting, something about the pained look you had in your eyes while lounging in the pool that night had his heart aching and his mind intrigued. After all he was a doctor, he couldn’t just leave if someone was possible in need of his help, especially not someone as beautiful as you
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butyoudidthis4what · 1 day ago
Note
Pleaseeeee do pope with stripper reader!! I will forever be in your debt!
It will be happening 😂 there are now way too many thoughts in the notes app of my phone for it to not happen. I'm only on season 2 right now so I'd like to get at least a little further in to get a better read on him, but I'm thinking about it very loosely following the character development we see on the show with him, but probably at a somewhat accelerated pace with Reader. I have 100% already seen them meeting in my mind and have all that down.
I'm still trying to decide how exactly I want to play it all out but my thoughts so far are:
slow burn, like reallllllllllllly slow burn
almost a type of friends to lovers vibe
reader doesn't have sex with customers (makes the storyline a bit less complicated for me)
Pope gets almost a little obsessive how he does but reader likes it
reader is absolutely not at all scared of Pope
reader's personality is somewhat the opposite of Pope's in the sense that she talks more, teases him from the beginning, is confident in herself BUT she meets Pope where he's at and doesn't try to force him to engage
reader has some sort of very flexible day job, right now I'm thinking she's an author with a book deal
I'm going to have to come up with some nickname that only reader calls Pope (I want her calling him something special so not Pope, Andrew is out because someone I'm very close with has a partner named Andrew, and Andy is the name of a dead uncle so I'm a little torn on that one but it could probably be fine) so if you have suggestions for that let me know
Thoughts? Opinions? Feedback? Ideas? I'm open to it all as I let this percolate in the back of my mind. Feel free to comment in replies or asks or DMs.
I know this probably isn't what some people wanted or expected when they heard stripper!reader with Pope, so I'm sorry if it doesn't float your boat, and if it appears to float nobody's boat then maybe it'll change.
Thank you for sending in this ask anon! I love hearing from everyone! ♥️
54 notes · View notes
butyoudidthis4what · 1 day ago
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I absolutely am in love with your Quiet series! The absolute focus on actions drawing attention to the smaller world-building details makes your work absolutely incredible!! I would absolutely love to read anything and everything you want to write about these guys!!
Thank you so much, I'm really glad you're enjoying them!! ♥️ I'm glad you enjoy the smaller details because sometimes I wonder if that's me trying to do too much. 😂 I'll definitely write more for them, I have so many ideas of almost their entire lives so I have material to work with in my brain.
And thank you for taking the time to read and send in this ask, I really appreciate it and love hearing from everyone! It gives me a lot of motivation and inspiration!
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butyoudidthis4what · 1 day ago
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You could do it with me.
Jack Abbot x F!Reader - Best friends to lovers!!!!!!!
11.1k || All my content is 18+ MDNI || CW: quickly resolved angst; patient death; coding that veteran for two hours; reference to DUI; suicidal ideation; discussion of Jack's injury; reader wants marriage and kids (I know this is not everyone’s fave or something everyone wants, but I needed it for the storyline so I’m sorry if it's not your thing); reader and Jack are idiots; reference to Shen’s wedding; reference and allusion to sex; allusion to masturbation; reader is briefly held hostage with a knife to her neck and gets a very light cut; mention of drugs generally; mention of demerol; blood; no use of y/n or related
This is for the A Doctor a Day event hosted by @ananonymousaffair, @clubsoft and @letsgobarbs. Thank you for hosting such an awesome event! My prompt was "You are the very beating and pulse of my heart" and my color was black!
Summary: A message from your college ex changes everything.
AN: I love best friends to lovers. I love when they're so god damn blind to each other's romantic love and interest. I love when they do things that are so beyond what best friends (generally) do. Also for the record I do think people of opposite genders can just be platonic best friends. I challenged myself to stay under 10k and lost, but I was really close so I'm taking it. For some reason I really ended up struggling with this and don't really love or even necessarily particularly like how it came out in the end. I'm just very unsure about it. Could not articulate why to save my life. I hope it ended up coming out and reading okay. I really appreciate you taking the time to read and hope you enjoy!
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You met Jack Abbot on the first day of your intern year, night shift.
He was an R4, but with the way he carried himself and practiced and the fact that he was older, you assumed he was your attending. You were both drawn to each other immediately. For both of you it was pretty much love at first sight and interaction. Neither of you could explain why if asked. It just was. By the end of your first twelve hours knowing each other you were in love with each other. 
Not, of course, that either of you told the other that. Because there was no way the other would feel the same. So instead you became best friends, almost instantly. Like after two weeks everyone had noticed how close you were. People hadn’t started assuming you were together at that point but they were assuming it was heading in that direction. 
Your reasons for not telling each other were slightly different then. For you, you were new and an intern to Jack’s R4, were quite sure Jack was not interested in you like that and, even that early on, having him in your life as a best friend was better than losing him and not having him in your life at all. For Jack, he was an R4 and you were an intern, plus he was older than you and missing a foot, he truly believed you weren’t and would never be into him like that and, as it was for you, even that early on, having you in his life as a best friend was better than losing you and not having you in his life at all.
And for a while you really were just best friends. But then over time you both seemed to greatly expand your definition of best friends. And after a while you were doing almost everything a couple did except for kissing and having sex and admitting feelings and saying you loved each other. To you and Jack though, it was all just being best friends, all things best friends did. 
The true beginning of that expansion was the first time you spent the night at Jack’s house, about three months after you met. 
Jack is confused when he sees you sitting at the hub eating the other half of the granola bar you’d started and not finished last night. It’s strange because he just assumed you guys would grab breakfast so why would you be eating. “Aren’t you off?” he asks you as he walks up to where you’re sitting.
“I am, but I just got a text from my neighbor that the AC in my apartment building is broken and won’t be fixed until this evening so I’m just gonna hang here.” You shrug. “Maybe work, maybe try to catch some sleep in the on-call room and then head home and pray it’s working.”
It has been disgustingly hot and humid the last week or ten days and being in your AC-less apartment on the fifth floor during the day was simply not happening. You’d rather be at the hospital getting shitty sleep in the on-call room or working. 
“Wasn’t this last shift our sixth straight night on?” Jack asks, with a raise of his brows.
“Indeed it was,” you sigh. “Pretty irritating because I would just like to go sleep. But what can you do? I’m not going home to sleep in this heat.”
“Yeah. No, you’re not.” It’s short, somewhere between disbelief and concern. “You’re not staying here either. Go grab your shit. You can crash at my place.” 
“Really?”
“No, I just said it to be a dick and take back the offer when you agreed.” Jack gives you a pointed really? look. “Yes, really. Now go get your shit before we both end up getting pulled back into something.”
“You don’t have to do that Jack, I’ll be fine. I wouldn’t want to intrude like that.” You shake your head at him a little. 
“I know I don’t have to offer, but you need to get some real sleep. I know you know that. You’ll make yourself sick. And you’re not intruding, you know that too.” Jack tilts his head at you.
“Aw,” you tease him a little, “are you worried about me?”
Jack rolls his eyes at you. You both know he is and that he does worry about you and that you worry about him. That’s what best friends do. “Okay, stay here then.” He shrugs.
“No, no. I’ll take you up on it if you’re still offering,” you say quickly. 
“I am.”
“Okay, let me grab my stuff.” You get up and head to the lockers, grab your things and make your way over to Jack. 
Once you’re out of the Pitt Jack turns to you as you walk towards your guys’ favorite breakfast spot. You haven’t discussed going there but it’s just unspoken at this point. “Why didn’t you just ask? How many times now have I told you you’re welcome at my place whenever? Open door or whatever. It’s not like you’ve never been to my place and don’t know I have a guest room.”
You shrug as he opens the door for you. “It felt like there was a difference between come over whenever and spend the night, or what’s our night, at my place.”
“Well there’s not,” he tells you as you slide into a booth sitting across from each other. “I’m telling you that now.”
Once you finish breakfast the two of you head to Jack’s place. Like Jack said, you’ve been to his place before. 
“You should take my bed,” Jack says once you’re at his place and both of you have set all your stuff down. “The guest bed mattress is really not the greatest. I need to replace it but nobody ever sleeps on it so I just haven’t gotten around to it.”
You’re thrown for a second at the prospect of sleeping in Jack’s bed. Even without him. “It’s alright, I don’t mind. My cheap mattress at home isn’t really the greatest.” 
“No seriously, you’ll probably wake up hurting.” He gives you a firm look. “Just let me take it.” 
“Oh, yes, because if it’s going to hurt the person who sleeps on it, the best idea is surely to give it to the older of the two of us.” You give him a look. 
“Did you just call me old?” Jack says in mock offence. 
“No, I just said you were older than me.” You soften a little. “I can tell your hip and back are hurting after six straight Jack.” You both know you’re right. This shift in particular he could really feel his hip and back compensating as his prosthetic caused him a little more pain than usual. “So just let me take the guest room.”
That makes Jack blush a little and you feel bad. You hadn’t meant to hit a nerve or make him self-conscious. “Hate than you can tell, but alright. You wanna shower before?” 
“If you don’t mind.”
“Wouldn’t have asked if I did. You’re going to have to use mine though. I don’t have any shampoo or whatever in the spare. And I’ll leave you a shirt and some boxers on my bed so you don’t have to get back into your scrubs.” He says it so casually, like he’s totally unaffected by it when he is in fact very, very affected. The thought of you in his clothes has him hardening. And the thought of wearing his clothes makes you feel warm and start to get slick between your thighs. 
You clear your throat. “Thank you.” 
Jack nods, flick his head to tell you to follow him and you do. He steps into his bathroom for a second and then comes back out. “Fresh towel and washcloth on the counter for you. I found a spare toothbrush too. Clothes will be on the bed. Shout if you need anything.”
It’s not until you’re in Jack’s shower squeezing some of his shampoo into your hand that you realize you’re going to smell like him at the end of this. You get even slicker between your legs at the thought and spend the entire shower telling yourself to stop thinking about him as anything other than your best friend. It doesn’t really work. 
And getting dried off and into Jack’s clothes does nothing to help the matter. His black shirt is oversized on you and he said boxers but he really meant boxer briefs which make you feel far closer to him in a way. 
You find Jack sitting on his couch reading. “Hey. Thank you for the shower and clothes.” Jack looks up at you and has to carefully control his reaction. He’s glad you’re far enough away that you don’t see the way his jaw clenches at how unbelievably hot you look in his clothes. It makes him feel possessive in a way he knows he shouldn’t. He’s also glad he’s sitting far enough away that you can’t see the bulge in his pants that starts to grow. 
“Of course.”
“I’m going to try and get some sleep. Wake me whenever you need me to leave.” Jack’s not waking you up. As far as he’s concerned you never need to leave. “And I hope you sleep well.” You give him a shy nod and turn to head back to the guest room. 
“Sleep well,” he calls after you. 
From then on, going to each other’s places after work slowly became a thing. By the end of your intern year it was far more common for you to end up at Jack’s place or him to end up at yours after work. Sometimes you’d spend what was your night at Jack’s, sometimes you wouldn’t. He only spent the night at yours once when you both fell asleep on your couch. You didn’t have a spare room and no way were you making Jack sleep on your couch and you knew he’d never accept your bed with you on the couch.
And then one day about a year and a half after meeting and being best friends both of you were clearly sore from your run of shifts and Jack floated the idea. 
“You wanna just sleep in my bed with me? It’s far more comfortable. And big enough so we don’t have to like… be particularly close or anything.” It takes a lot for him not to tack on ‘unless you want.’
“Oh.” His offer catches you by surprise. It feels like it should mean something, but best friends sleep in the same beds, right? It’s not that big of a deal. “Yeah, sure. That would be nice, thank you.” 
After you both shower you and Jack slide into his bed, staying respectfully at the edge of the side of the bed each of you is on. You wake up much closer, about a foot between you, and both of you have to fight the urge to snuggle into the other and try to use this opportunity to express your real feelings for each other.
After that, sleeping in the same bed became your usual thing. It opened up staying at your place more often after a while when you slowly started sleeping closer together since you had a smaller mattress. And before either of you knew it you had a drawer at Jack’s place and he had a drawer at yours, both of you had your toiletries in the other’s shower and on the other’s bathroom counter. It happened so naturally neither of you truly realized the implication for a while, and when you did you convinced yourselves that it was something best friends did.
You also convinced yourselves that getting ready in the bathroom together at the same time, bumping into each other and being close and Jack sometimes shirtless and you sometimes in just a bra and pants or shorts was something best friends did. And you wearing Jack’s clothes just because you liked to, not because you needed to borrow them, without asking him and wearing his shirt and boxer briefs to bed because they were comfortable was a best friends thing. So was Jack sleeping in just a pair of pajama pants and eventually just his boxer briefs in the same bed as you. Laying in his lap with your head on his chest cuddling or him snuggling up to you after a bad day as you watched a movie together was also just something best friends did. 
And then Jack had a really bad day. 
“Jack,” you say softly, moving your head down to try and get him to look at you as he keeps doing compressions. “We have to let him go.” Both you and Jack are sweaty, as are most of the people in the room with you. You’ve been coding the patient in front of you for two hours now. 
“Not your call to make,” he pants out. But it’s laced with anger and frustration. “You’re an R3 and I’m the attending. It’s not your call to make. So either keep running the code or get out.” It’s pretty close to snarled and makes you grimace. You and everybody in the room know that Jack’s anger and frustration isn’t truly at you. 
Jack knows you’re right but he can’t bring himself to stop. Because it’s unfair. It’s so fucking unfair. 
“Jack. Look at me.” He doesn’t stop compressions but he does lift his eyes to yours after a few seconds. “You know that I’m with you and just as aggressive as you. You know that if I thought for a second there was even the slightest chance of us getting him back I wouldn’t be telling you we have to let him go.” You nod at him, watch his jaw clench. The protective eye glasses he’s wearing might fool others into thinking that’s what’s making his eyes shiny but you know better. “He’s gone, Jack.” 
He just looks at you for another minute as he does compressions before he finally stops, panting hard. You both look up at the monitor. “Asystole,” you say quietly. You try to be quicker than Jack but aren’t and Jack’s the one to confirm with his stethoscope and you shut the monitor off. 
He pulls it away and puts it back on his neck as he speaks and glances at his watch. “Time of death 06:57.”
Jack is silent as he pulls his gloves, trauma gown and glasses off, tossing them in the biohazard bin before walking out. You tell everyone thank you before doing the same as Jack and walking out of the trauma room, head on a swivel as you look for him even though you’re pretty sure you know exactly where he is. It’s all but confirmed for you when you don’t see him in the immediate vicinity. 
It is confirmed when you step out onto the roof. You hate it when he stands on that side of the railing, it always scares the shit out of you because you always worry one day he’s going to do it. And if he was, today would likely be that day. You’re one of three people who work at the hospital other than Jack who knows that when it hit midnight seven hours ago it became the anniversary of the day of his injury. So yeah. With the significance of the day and the fact that you just coded a veteran for two hours, if he was going to do it, today seems like it could be the day. 
“You know you’re not allowed to leave me,” you call to him as you walk closer. Jack doesn’t say anything. “Seriously.” You reach the rail right behind him. “What the fuck am I gonna do if you jump?” 
Jack lets out a heavy sigh. “It’s unfair. It’s a fucking joke. Surviving over there to come back and be taken out by a drunk driver. Just like that.” He snaps his fingers as he says it. “What the fuck is the point? Of any of this anymore?” 
“It is unfair. And it’s pretty fucking cruel of the universe to have this happen ever, but especially to have it happen and put it in front of you today.” You let out a long breath. “And I don’t know what the point is either sometimes, or I lose sight of it. But I think the point is all the ones you can and do save and help, Jack. And if you jump then you can’t save or help anyone else. Civilian, service member or vet. You can’t teach others, pass on what you’ve learned. Every student and resident who comes through here would be worse off.” 
Jack knows you’re right. Some part of him wants to almost be mad at you for the way that you’re right and know what to say. He’s not though. He looks back at you a little to acknowledge he heard you. To tell you that you’re right and he knows it. 
“Will you come here, please, Jack?”
He gives a little shake of his head and lets out a shuddery breath before he turns and ducks under the rail so he’s standing right next to you. You turn into him and give him a hug. Jack returns it tightly and you can feel how hard he swallows. You know the last place he wants to show any further emotion is here so you pull out of the hug. 
“Let’s get out of here.” You grab Jack’s hand and start walking. Jack follows and the two of you only drop hands once someone else gets on the elevator with you. 
You guys manage to get out fairly quickly and unsurprisingly end up at Jack’s place. You take turns showering before crawling into bed together, both exhausted and ready to just pass out. You roll on your sides and look at each other. You know Jack needs to let some emotion out and you consider going to sleep in the guest room so he can be alone but the thought of him being alone today, especially after that code, makes you sad.
“Jack?” you say his name softly. He raises his eyebrows at you. “I know the real question you went up there looking for an answer to. Why were you the one to survive? And I’m not going to pretend to know the answer. I know this might be selfish of me, but I just want you to know that I’m really glad you were the one to survive.”
Jack’s mind spins. He can’t believe you knew that was the question. He can in a way, because it’s you and you always seem to know but part of him still can’t comprehend someone caring for him and knowing him how you do. And he wishes more than anything in the moment that he could kiss you. But he can’t. And he can’t risk losing you. His mind also spins trying to answer the question, why him, why did he survive over there, why does he survive over here? And it spins like it always does on this day, scenes of this day all those years ago playing in the background of his mind constantly.
He shakes his head a little at you, eyes glassy. He really didn’t want to cry. “You can come here, if you want, Jack.” 
Jack nods this time and slides over to you. You pull him close to you and wrap your arms around him as he buries his face in your neck and lets himself cry. You run your hands through his hair for the first time without even realizing it and keep doing it. Scratch at his scalp sometimes, play with the curls at the nape of his neck. You wish you could pull his head from your neck and kiss him, tell him you love him and have him know you mean it as more than just a friend. 
After that it became your guys’ normal. Cuddling together in bed, sleeping tangled up together or you on Jack’s chest or him on yours or with him as the big spoon or you as the big spoon, you running your hands through his hair, something you discovered relaxed him immensely and helped him fall asleep. 
Neither of you really dated over the years, not as such. It was just another thing that made everyone think you were already together or heavily in denial. As an intern and resident you didn’t really have the time, and it just wasn’t how you wanted to spend your free time at that point in your life. Jack theoretically had the time but he just didn’t want to put the effort into it really. He was content with you, even non-romantically. As you were with him. You did want more though, you did want to get married and have kids one day. With someone. You knew it would never be Jack and that if you wanted that you were eventually going to have to get over Jack and go try. You just never really brought yourself to.
Occasionally over the years each of you would pick someone up at a bar or somewhere and have some casual sex. Sometimes it turned into a bit of a friends with benefits situation and you’d see the person more than once. That was all more common for you. Jack wasn’t super into casual sex or friends with benefits. You went on a couple of dates to appease some friends and try to get over Jack. He did the same to try and get over you. Nothing ever went anywhere. 
People of course noticed how close you and Jack were. The way you always seemed to walk in and out of work together. The times you’d come in wearing Jack’s sweatshirt. The reactions you’d both have at times when the other got flirted with, either at work or when everyone went out to a bar or somewhere. 
Both of you were constantly getting asked if you were together, some people just assumed it. You both always laughed and said no, you weren’t, you didn’t know why so many people thought that, you’re just best friends. Bets were placed on when you guys would finally either admit you were together already or realize what literally everyone else could tell, that you were both in love with each other, and finally get together as a couple.
A few people bet on it taking one of you to get worryingly sick or injured or otherwise put in danger for the other to admit their feelings. They were proven wrong one night. 
Your mistake was something you’d done hundreds of times before. Walking out into the ambulance bay by yourself in the middle of the night. It’s how you find yourself being held hostage and walked back into the ED with a knife pressed against your throat. 
Sound seems to go. You’re only vaguely aware of the guy holding you making demands for drugs. Your eyes drag across the floor looking for a single person. One you can’t find. He must be in with a patient. You know he’s the only person who would give you any comfort in this situation but a part of you is almost glad you don’t see him. 
You don’t want him to see this. Especially if this guy ends up using the knife on you. You really don’t want Jack to see that. 
The scream a patient lets out and the general collective gasps he hears are Jack’s initial clues something is wrong. The chilly silence that follows is another clue and he decides to go look, makes his way to the door of the exam room he’s in. He doesn’t know what he expects to see when he steps out but it sure isn’t you with a knife pressed to your throat. And yet that’s what he sees.
Jack’s entire world stops, the vial of medication he was holding falling out of his hand. His eyes find yours immediately. “I’m sorry,” you mouth to him. He shakes his head. Why the fuck are you sorry? is all he can think. 
Jack walks forward holding up his hands. “What do you want?” he asks the guy. 
“Finally somebody with some fucking sense. Demerol. 150. To start. Then I want all the fucking vials of it and morphine you have with a bunch of needles.” The guy laughs, thinks he’s about to make out. 
“And then you’ll let her go?” Jack asks.
“I’ll walk her out with me and then I’ll let her go, yeah.”
“Fine,” Jack nods at him. “I’ll pull your dose now.” The way the guy laughs as Jack walks over to pull some demerol out makes him want to be sick. If something happens to you, anything at all, if you die, Jack swears he’ll die with you. He’d never forgive himself. He’s eerily calm and steady for how fast his heart is racing but he knows he needs to be calm and focused to get you out of this alive and physically uninjured. He knows the mental injuries are already there. 
Jack can’t quite pin down how sophisticated this guy is. The laughter makes Jack think he’s not very. That he doesn’t really know what he’s doing. So Jack tries it, sees if the guy will tell him to show him the vial first and pull it in front of him and make Jack give himself some to prove it’s nothing dangerous first. He takes a vial of etomidate out and pulls a dose, starts walking over to the guy. 
There’s no questioning. No telling Jack to go back and bring it all over and pull it in front of him, no asking Jack if Jack think he’s stupid. Only that fucking laugh that neither you nor Jack will ever forget.
“Need a vein,” Jack tells the guy as he gets close. 
“Back of the hand. The one holding the knife. She can watch,” the guy grunts at Jack and laughs as he tightens his grip on the knife and presses it into your neck hard enough to give you little deeper than a paper cut, but deep enough to draw some blood. 
The sight of your blood makes him want to be sick because, even though it’s only a few drops, you still have a fucking knife against your throat that’s making you bleed. Jack nods at you but doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t want to risk pissing the guy off, not with how tight that knife is against your skin. Jack feels the back of the guys hand for a vein to make sure they’re not all blown. He finds one and so Jack pushes the med and then steps back 
“I’m getting the rest now, okay?” Jack starts walking backwards slowly. It’s the longest onset time of Jack’s entire life but he can see when it starts to hit the guy and he’s already running back towards you as the etomidate renders the guy unconscious. “Etomidate,” Jack shouts at nobody in particular so at least somebody knows what he gave the guy and can deal with him accordingly.
The second the knife drops from your throat you’re stepping forward and Jack is right there to grab you and pull you away from the guy. Jack crushes you to him. “Jack,” you whimper as your hands fist at his scrub top at his chest, his arms wrapping around you and holding you tighter than he ever has before. 
“Fuck,” he breathes out, “fuck, you’re okay.” You’re shaking in Jack’s arms just as much as he’s shaking having you safe and in his as the adrenaline crashes for you both. “Let me see your neck.” 
He tries to pull away but you cling to him and follow him. “It’s fine, it’s fine. Just stay, please.” 
Jack wants to look at your neck for himself but he knows you’re right that it’s okay for now and you clearly need him like this and frankly he needs you like this too. Safe in his arms. 
It makes you feel safe. If you’re in Jack’s arms nothing is going to happen to you. You trust him. You know he’s safe, will keep you safe. “Please stay,” you whisper, voice shaking. “I need you.” 
“I’m not going anywhere,” he promises. “I’ve got you. And I’m not letting you out of my sight.” Jack’s voice is shaky like yours. “I can’t lose you.”
Everyone who heard that line and the way Jack said it had thought it meant you in fact weren’t together but Jack was going to admit his feelings to you and you’d admit yours back and you’d finally be together and holding hands walking in and calling each other pet names. And Jack almost did admit his feelings to you. But then you guys had gotten home and went about your routine and you were so shaken and clingy that he wasn’t able to bring himself to tell you and risk losing you, especially when you needed him so much in the aftermath. So it didn’t happen. 
The calling each other a pet name, however, did. But not in the way anyone expected. To you and Jack the word just became a nickname. One that intensified the confusion about what you and Jack were. 
You’re standing at the hub charting when you overhear Jack finishing discharge instructions with a mom and her five or six year old daughter as he walks them towards the door. You’re finally an R4 about two weeks away from starting the attending position you were offered and accepted. Jack is of course still an attending. Your schedules are almost always identical. It was easy to pull off when most people didn’t want to work nights and the two of you volunteered to. You both knew it would be staying that way once you became an attending.
“Thank you so much, babe!” You watch the mom tell Jack as she hugs him. You bite your lip to stifle your laugh, continuing to watch as Jack remains completely still. “And like we talked about if you ever need anything or get bored, here’s my number,” she giggles as she presses a post-it note to his chest. You’d be more jealous if you thought for a single second Jack might actually be interested, but he is so clearly not you almost feel embarrassed for the woman. The whole thing is so funny you have to quickly log out and walk away to keep from laughing. 
The second the mom is out the door Jack tosses the post-it note with a shake of his head. Jack has always gotten hit on at work. He’s always gotten flirted with everywhere really. He very, very rarely flirts back. But though he may not have put it together, everyone else, yourself included, has noticed that now that he’s truly gone salt and pepper he gets flirted with far more. 
Later that night around 1:30 a.m. the two of you are at the hub charting together. “Can you take the eight year old with a possible broken arm from a bunk bed fall with the new med student, Cooper? I said I would but I don’t think I can handle another mom right now and I would really love to try and get like four bites of literally anything.”
“I suppose for you I can,” you tease him, bumping your hip against his. “I brought us leftovers from last night too. They’re in the fridge.”
“I knew I kept you around for a reason.” You scoff in mock offense as Jack logs off his computer. He looks over at you and waits until you look up at him which doesn’t take long. “Thank you.” He gives you a flash of a smile and then starts to walk toward the breakroom. 
The opportunity is too good to pass up. After he gets a step or two away you call out to him. “Sure thing, babe!” 
Jack stops walking and tilts his head letting out a single huffed laugh as he shakes his head and rolls his eyes before he resumes walking. He can’t keep the small smile off his face though. 
A while later Jack finds you again at the hub, just the two of you. You guys chat for a bit until you get called away. “Oh,” you turn back to Jack, “can you remind me to check if my mascara is dried out when we get home. I’m going to need some for Shen’s wedding.”
Jack smirks at you and you already know what he’s about to say. “Sure thing, babe!” 
The nickname stuck and it pretty much became your and Jack’s exclusive way of referring to each other. You both ached for it to be a real pet name. People assumed that calling each other ‘babe’ constantly would lead to a conversation and so you’d get together within a month or so. Especially because then you’d be an attending. You wouldn’t technically be Jack’s student anymore, you’d be equals. But you still didn’t get together.
And once you became an attending and had been one for six months or so and nothing happened, people stopped placing bets. Because surely if it was going to happen it would have already. 
A year after you became an attending you started to notice it more than you had before. It felt like most of your patients were children with their parents or newlyweds or recently engaged or celebrating their 50th wedding anniversary or pregnant. Marriage and kids were frequently on your mind. But you still couldn’t bring yourself to put yourself out there and try to find someone. 
You talk about it casually with a couple of people at work, that you think you’d like marriage and kids one day, and the interest in you and Jack is renewed and bets start getting placed again. 
And one day, six years after you met, it finally happens.
You and Jack walk into his place after your shift. You unsurprisingly had to stay late so it’s 9 a.m. or so, your guys’ evening. It wasn’t a bad shift in the scope of things, but it wasn’t the easiest shift you’ve ever had either. 
Jack keeps semi blackout curtains in his living room and pulls them closed while you grab a drink for yourself and a beer for Jack from his fridge without even asking if he wants one. You don’t turn any lights on. The curtains dim the room, but you can still easily see each other.
He sits on the opposite end of the couch from you, leaning into the corner of it and putting the thigh of one leg on it as he tilts his body towards you so that you guys can see each other. Manspreading like always. If only he knew how insane it drove you. You hand him his beer and then settle back into the same position, and if only you knew how insane your legs being relatively spread open drove him. 
“I guess at least nobody died,” you mutter before taking a drink. 
Jack nods slowly as he finishes swallowing. “We’ll take the wins where we can.” He tilts his head at you. “Didn’t see much of you tonight.” 
“It was busy. I think we kept hitting our free moments at different times. It’s not like I was ignoring you.” You give him a knowing look, confused about why he’s even commenting on it. It’s something that just happens sometimes. 
He’s commenting because he missed you, quite a lot today for some reason, and especially because he saw you on your phone a decent amount at the beginning of your shift, more than you usually are, and you seemed happy. Of course he wants you to be happy, but he wants to know why. Why you weren’t using that time to come see him and let him make you happy. He’s hoping the explanation isn’t another man. 
“You seemed to be in an awfully good mood at the beginning of your shift.” He tries to keep it light, like it’s just something he noticed and not him trying to probe for information.
“Eh. My college ex boyfriend texted me.” You roll your eyes. “It was random more than anything.”
He swallows hard. Fuck. It was another man. “Oh,” Jack draws the word out, “is that who was making you smile down at your phone until about midnight tonight?” He smirks at you like he isn’t internally seething with jealousy.
You roll your eyes again but this time at Jack. “He sent me the most ridiculous opening line and it was funny, so it made me smile, yes.” 
Jack’s jaw sets and he takes a drink of his beer so that he doesn’t grind his teeth loud enough for you to hear. “You sharing or?”
There’s the faintest hint of snippiness in his tone that makes you narrow your eyes at him slightly. Jack knows all about your college ex, how he decided he didn’t want to move with you for medical school and then again for residency potentially. It broke your heart at the time but things still ended amicably all things considered. You figure the snippiness is related to Jack disliking him.
“He asked if I went into cardiology because, and I quote ‘you are the very beating and pulse of my heart.’” You start laughing as you finish saying it. Jack hardly even laughs, he just rolls his eyes and shakes his head, shifts to sit straighter on the couch so he’s looking at the black TV in front of him and not over at you. “Oh come on,” you nudge his thigh with your foot. “It was funny.”
Jack takes another swig of his beer and pulls his lips down, shrugs slightly. “Worked on you enough that you memorized it.” 
You choke on the sip of your drink you just took, coughing a little. Jack glances over at you for a second just to make sure you’re okay. 
“Worked on me? It didn’t fucking work on me. He sent it to break the ice, babe.” You furrow your brows and shake your head at him, looking at him with a mixture of disbelief and confusion. 
“Well you liked it enough to remember it and keep talking to him.” He already knows you’re going to go see this guy and probably get into a relationship and that’ll pretty much be the end of your best friends relationship as you know it now. 
You scoff at him. “I found it funny enough to remember. There’s a difference.” 
“Okay,” he sings, clearly not believing you and you just shake your head at him. You both take sips of your drinks. Even with Jack’s kind of strange behavior the silence is still comfortable. “So why’d he text you after all this time? It’s been like what? Ten years?”
You shift on the couch and pull your legs up to your chest. “He moved to Pittsburgh. Asked if I’d be interested in seeing him.”
Jack’s head snaps over to you. “You are, aren’t you? You’re going to see him?” 
His gaze is so intense it feels like it’s pinning you in place. “Yeah.” You shrug. You don’t get why this is such a big deal all of the sudden. You need this. You need to move on from Jack. You need to try and have the rest of the life you want, even if it’s not quite how you pictured it. You and Jack would still be best friends and some things might change, but it’s not like everything would change or suddenly you’d just stop hanging out because you got married and had kids.
Jack scoffs at you now. “Why?” There’s a bite behind his tone. He’s not sure if you have a real reason or if it’s just to reconnect. You squirm under his gaze for a second before you have to look away as you give him another shrug. That’s the confirmation he needs. “Bull-fucking-shit, you absolutely have a reason.” You let out a breath and occupy your mouth with another sip of your drink. “Fine. Then look me in the eye and tell me you don’t have a reason.” 
You sigh and look back at him. You swear he almost seems mad with how serious he looks, lips pressed in a line, still staring at you with that same intensity, eyes slightly narrowed. You know you’re going to have to tell him because you can’t lie to him. As in you couldn’t bring yourself to do it and also he would know the second it came out of your mouth. 
“It’s stupid,” you admit, “it’s stupid and I know it and a big part of me doesn’t care. But you’ll think it’s stupid too. Think I’m stupid for even considering it.” 
“Hey.” Jack shifts on the couch so he’s turned towards you again, features softened. “You’re not stupid. I know you far too well to know that if there is one thing in this world that you are definitively not, it’s stupid. If it’s a stupid idea, yeah I will tell you that. ” 
You look down at your hands. You know you’re going to have to tell him eventually. If you end up doing it then it’s going to come out. “When we broke up we made this stupid pact together that we both thought was just a funny joke at the time. We said if we reached the age we are now and weren’t married or in a serious relationship we’d get married and have kids together.” You pause for a second and swallow. “Neither of us are married or in a serious relationship. So you know…”
Jack’s jaw falls open a little as his head lolls forward. Adrenaline floods his body so fast he grows cold in seconds, stomach churning. He can’t lose you. Not like this. If you dated the guy and fell back in love with him that would be one thing. But this? No. And actually, no in general. He can’t lose you. He can’t watch you marry someone else and have someone else’s kids. He knows you really want marriage and kids and he wants that for you, just selfishly only with him. It gets harder to breathe as some actual panic starts to seep into him. 
He lets out an incredulous laugh. “You’re actually fucking considering this?” 
Tears sting at the back of your eyes. You know he’s not laughing at you and you know he’s not truly judging you but his reaction still hurts in a way you didn’t expect it to. All you can do is nod at him. 
Jack laughs again, running a hand through his hair and shaking his head. “Fucking why?”
“Because Jack!” He shrinks back slightly, eyebrows raising at your response and the emotion he thinks he hears in your voice. “Because I want to share my life with someone romantically! Because I want to get married and have a house and have kids! I want that life. And I’m not getting any fucking younger.”
“Oh my fucking god,” Jack scoffs. He’s nearly at a loss for words. “How can you say that? You haven’t even been looking for someone! You don’t date and I know you’ve been asked out plenty of times. And don’t give the excuse of being too busy because we both know that’s not true anymore.” He shakes his head at you and looks pissed. “Do you even fucking love him?” 
You shrug. You have absolutely no justification for why you don’t date other than because you’re in love with Jack. So you don’t even really try to justify anything. “I haven’t been, no, but I’ve still always wanted that stuff and this kind of fell in my lap and so maybe it’s a sign. And as for loving him… yeah. No. Kind of? I don’t know anymore. Would he be my first pick? No. But he’s nice, he treated me well and he’ll be a good dad I think. And maybe now that we’re both grown up there will be more of a spark there.” You knew Jack would think it was a stupid and bad idea but you didn’t know he’d react quite this strongly. In part you’re not sure why he cares so much. He’s your best friend. He should want to see you happy and living the life you want. And this is a way for you to at least be living the life you want and to be happy enough.
“So what, you’re going to fucking settle? Settle for the guy who broke your heart? The guy who couldn’t be fucking asked to move maybe twice for you so that you could do what you dreamed of? The guy who allegedly loved you but not quite enough to make any sacrifices for you?” Jack tilts his head at you. “Babe you deserve so much better. So much fucking better. Don’t do this to yourself. Don’t even consider it further. Please” 
“I think maybe I would be enough for him now. He reached out. Remembered. That has to count for something, right? And I want it Jack.” You shrug at him. You’re a little upset. Not with Jack, just with everything else. With what you don’t have. With the way you struggle about whether you really want marriage and kids without Jack now that you’re really thinking about it. “I want that life and I feel like I’m running out of time and yeah, I haven’t been looking so that’s on me, but still. You can want something and still be okay with not having it. But if the opportunity arose, if it just kind of fell in your lap… you know?”
“I know,” Jack whispers before speaking at a normal level. “I just want you to be with someone who you are enough for. Because you are enough. You are so much fucking more than enough.” Jack nods at you, hoping it will help drive his words home. “He doesn’t deserve you. Any fucking part of you. He doesn’t deserve another second of your time. I know you won’t be happy with him. Not truly. You would be settling and you know it. But you don’t have to settle. You don’t. You still have time. You can still have the life you want, just with someone who really makes you happy. Who you really want to live that life with. You still have time to find that person. Your person. So don’t do this to yourself. Please.”
Your heart aches. You know and love Jack so deeply, he’s the one you trust with every secret and part of you. You wish that you could tell him you already found your person. You already found the man who makes you really, truly happy. You already found the man you want to live your life with. That you’re staring at him.
“Jack, we have to be realistic. When am I going to go find that person? With what time? And where? It’ll take me forever to find someone.” You let out a short breath. “And then after I do find them it’s at minimum a year of dating, an engagement, then a wedding, then wanting time as just a couple before kids. I don’t have that kind of time. I have a couple of years at best.” 
“You’re giving yourself an artificial timeline.” He shakes his head. He’s not getting through to you. “You could still go find them. Or at least do this all, marriage and kids, with someone better.” 
“Who, Jack?” You laugh exasperatedly. “Who the fuck is that? I’d still have to find them. At least I know him. That’s better than jumping into this with a stranger. Who the fuck else do I know that I would do this with?” 
There’s a silence as you and Jack stare at each other. 
And then Jack raises his eyebrows and tilts his head at you quickly, just a one second or two flash. 
It hits you. 
“Jack?” you whisper. You need him to say it. Because there’s no fucking way.
He swallows hard. “Please just don’t do it with him.” 
“Jack.” 
“Me.” He rushes the word out, taking a few heavy breaths. “You could do it with me.” 
You stop breathing for a second as you look at him, expression unreadable in a way that makes him incredibly self-conscious, blush creeping up his neck to his ears and cheeks. You’re stunned. Beyond stunned. While your body is still and you’re silent your mind is running a million miles an hour screaming seventy things at once. There’s no way he means this as a romantic thing. He just has to be volunteering himself because he thinks he’s at least better than your college ex. 
The breath you take in thirty seconds later is still shocked. You lick your lips quickly and open your mouth to say something, but then close it when you can’t think of anything. This happens a couple of times before Jack speaks again. He’s quite sure he knows what your reaction means. That you’re trying to find a way to turn him down nicely. 
“I know I’m not him and I’m sure I have much less to offer than him.” You stare at Jack as he speaks, bring a hand up to cover your mouth. “And I know that I come with baggage and that I’m older and that I’m missing a piece of me, literally, but I just think, no I know I could make you happier than he could.” 
You’re silent for a minute. You process what he says but your brain doesn’t formulate a reply to it because you need to know exactly what Jack means. You move your hand from your mouth and rest it to the side of you. 
Your voice is surprisingly even, just like your body is still. You haven’t given into the trembling you can feel coming yet. “Is that… Would you want that? Or would it just be a pact kind of thing to you?” You’re still not convinced he’s thinking about this the same way you are. You’re convinced he’s just offering to take the place of your ex in the pact, not that he’s in love with you like you are with him.
The way you gloss over what he said hurts. He tries to hold onto some modicum of hope that all of this will get figured out and he won’t lose you but it’s getting hard. 
Jack lets out the saddest laugh you’ve ever heard by anyone ever. “Oh no, I want that. I’ve wanted that for a long time. Wanted you. I’ve been in love with you since that first day. The first day I met you. And I’m sorry if knowing it would be really real for me ruins it and makes me not an option. But even if it’s not me you should still find someone better than him.” He shrugs and looks away from you. 
“Are you being for fucking real?” He nods, still looking down. “No, Jack.” You move down the couch so that you’re sitting right next to each other, you with your legs crossed facing Jack who’s still turned into the couch so that he could see you. “Look at me.” He forces himself to look up at you. “Are you serious right now? Do you mean it? You want me? You’re in love with me? Like more than platonically?” 
Jack’s heart breaks because it’s not the declaration of love he’d hoped you give him in return. 
“Yes.” He nods at you, gives you the eye contact you sought, as intense as always even with his glassy and somewhat defeated looking eyes. “I want you. I’m in love with you. I’m in love with you like I want to marry you, I want you to be my wife and me to be your husband, I want to give you my last name, I want to confuse the fuck out of everyone on night shift with two Dr. Abbots, I want you to be the mother of my kids, I want to get you pregnant, more than once maybe, I want to grow old holding your hand and kissing your lips and making you laugh. I want you. I’m in love with you. I love you. I have always loved you.”
You swallow hard, the trembling finally hitting your entire body. “Why did you never say anything or make a move?” 
Your lack of real response to everything he just admitted confirms it for Jack. You don’t feel the same way. You don’t love him like he does you. There’s not going to be any saving this. 
“Because I knew you’d never reciprocate and if I said anything or made a move it would make things awkward and if it didn’t totally end our friendship it would have at least changed it significantly. And having you in my life like this, as my best friend, like you have been for the past six years was so much better than not having you in my life at all and being tortured seeing you at work.” Jack sniffles a little. “But then you started talking about marriage and kids with this guy and I know you want that life and that if you were even considering this pact you were either going to do it or probably start seriously dating and looking for someone. And so I sat here and realized I’d lose you either way. If I admitted my unrequited love I’d lose you. If you do it with him or go find someone to have that life with we obviously wouldn’t be able to continue how we are and so you’d slowly slip away and I’d lose you. So I figured I might as well throw it out there so that if nothing else you know that you are enough for someone. So much more than enough. And you shouldn’t settle for anyone who thinks differently.” 
You look at Jack for a few seconds and then you laugh. Hard. Because you cannot think of how else to react in the moment and Jack fucking Abbot is in love with you and you’re in love with him and you both have been forever and you’re both fucking idiots. 
The sound is a knife through Jack’s heart. 
You quiet your laughter and smile at Jack. He can’t quite believe it because it would be so out of character for you but Jack assumes you’re about to make fun of him. What else could you do?
“Knew I’d never reciprocate? Unrequited love?” You let out a few giggles this time. “Jack Abbot I have loved you every day for the past six years. I fell in love with you the day we met too. I am in love with you. Romantically. I love you.” You laugh again, a few tears slipping down your face, not from the laughter but the other emotions the laughter is just audibly louder than. “You’re sitting here talking about me going and finding my person and I’m trying not to fucking lose it because I’m sitting here fucking staring at my person so sure you would never reciprocate. You’re the one who makes me happy. The fucking happiest. The happiest I’ve ever been.” You take a breath and look at Jack, laughter leaving you and watery smile pulling up on your face, eyes the brightest Jack has ever seen them even in the relatively low light. “You are the one I want that life with. Marriage and kids. I said he wasn’t my first choice. You know who fucking is? You, Jack. You. It’s always been you. I’ve always loved you, too.” 
“Me?” There’s no fucking way.
“Yeah, Jack. You!” You’re beaming at him.
“You’re being for fucking real now?” He loosely mimics what you asked him earlier. A tentative smile pulls onto his face. He’s still struggling to believe that you love him. “You’re in love with me?”
“Yes. Like, like, I don’t even fucking know,” you pause trying to search for a word but it’s hard with how fucking giddy you are, “I’m soul-consumingly in love with you. Head over heels. All the clichés. I’m in love with you. I love you. I love you too.” 
His smile widens and he rests a hand on your thigh. He has to be sure you understand the reality of him though. Or what he thinks the reality of him is. “But I’m-”
“Oh, don’t even start with the I’m older and missing a piece of myself and have baggage. I’ve got some baggage myself. And I know you fucking know that.” You give him a pointed look though your smile remains. “I don’t care how old you are. And it’s hot quite frankly. I mean you are in general but you being older. The salt and pepper drives me fucking insane. Hardest day of my life was when you got enough gray for me to really notice. I had to go back to my place alone after shift and damn near burned out a vibrator over it, I mean jesus fucking christ, I set a personal record, Jack. Your age is hot. You’re hot. And handsome. Unfairly so.” You grow a little more serious to address the last point Jack had brought up earlier, rest one of your hands over his on your thigh and your other hand on his knee. “And yes. You’re missing a piece of yourself. But that doesn’t matter to me Jack. And I know what you think but it’s not unattractive, it doesn’t make you less desirable. And it certainly doesn’t somehow make you less of a man, Jack.”
His head is spinning. At all of. The whole situation. Him professing his love. You professing yours. The fact that you’re in love with each other. That you both want to get married and have kids. His brain glitched out for a second at almost burned out a vibrator and set a personal record all because you were thinking of him. And the way you read him like a book when all he said was he was he’s missing a piece of himself and reassured him perfectly, textbook example of a reason why he loves you. 
Jack’s eyes search yours as he beams with you now. He laughs, and he understands why you laughed. A few tears slide down his face, just as happy and emotional as you. “We’re fucking idiots.”
You laugh with him and nod. “Total fucking idiots.”
“We could have had all those years together. Why did you never say anything?” Jack asks, his free hand covering your hand on his knee. You’re both still so in shock and processing that kissing each other or continuing this conversation with you straddling him or somehow being closer than you are now hasn’t come to the forefront of either of your minds. 
“Same reason you didn’t. Having you somehow was better than not at all. And I mean, Jack,” you let out a flustered laugh, “you have to know like everyone wants you. You could have anybody you wanted and so I never thought you’d want me.”
“Hey. Listen to me.” Jack grows more serious though a soft smile remains. He shifts so that he can hold your face in his hands. He’s held your face like this before, many times, but not like this. This is different. You know you love each other. And while Jack is still your best friend and will always be your best friend, he’s your partner now. Your lover. Your future husband. Your future children’s father. And the same is true for Jack. You are and will always be his best friend, but you’re his partner now. His lover. His future wife. His future children’s mother. And so Jack’s holding your face like that. Like you’re his, in every sense of the word. “There is not a single human being on this entire fucking planet who I want more than you. Not a single fucking one. And there isn’t one that’s better for me. You’re the only woman I see anymore. You’ve been the only woman I see for a long time. You are the only one I want and the only one for me, Babe.”
You grin at the nickname and how it really is a pet name now, how it suddenly holds even more meaning. And you nod at Jack’s words, relish in how they warm your heart and make you feel so needed and wanted and loved. You know he means them. With his entire being. You bring your hands up and wrap them around Jack’s wrists as he holds your face, thumbs rubbing soft circles on the inside of his wrists. 
“You are the only one I want and the only for me, Babe,” you repeat to him. You bite your lip and giggle again and it goes straight to Jack’s cock. Now that you can say it you can’t help yourself. “And I can’t wait to marry you one day.”
“Oh yeah?” He smirks, confidence back in full force, seductive without even really trying. “You want it to be soon?” Jack tilts his head and leans his head in a little closer. You both know you’re fucking finally about to kiss. 
“Could be tomorrow as far as I’m concerned.” You wink at him. It’s kind of a joke but also not really. You’d marry him tomorrow. “But I do want to wait on kids. I know we’ve been dating in a sense for effectively six years, but I want time for us to really be a couple together. Just the two of us. We have a lot of time to make up for.” You look down at Jack’s lips and tilt your head opposite his, lean in even closer expecting him to close the gap. 
But instead he pulls away, making your face furrow. “Seriously?” Jack asks. 
“To which part?” Your confusion at his question and at his pulling back is clear in your tone.
Jack lets go of your face and you let go of his wrists. He stands, confusing you further until he pulls at the fabric of his scrub pants on one leg and sinks onto one knee. “Jack.” Your breathing picks up and tears hit your eyes. 
“I’m sorry I don’t have a ring right now. But I will buy you whatever you want-”
“I want whatever you pick out, Jack,” you interrupt him. 
He huffs a laugh. He loves you so much. You would interrupt his proposal for that. “Okay. I’m sorry I don’t have a ring right now. But I will pick you out one and we’ll get wedding bands on our way. I want to do life by your side forever. I love you.” Jack takes in a breath. “Will you marry me? Tomorrow?”
You nod as you start laughing. “Yeah. Yes! Of course I’ll marry you, Jack. Tomorrow.” 
You and Jack are beaming at each other again as he starts to laugh with you, standing back up and holding his hands out for you. You take them and uncross your legs, let Jack help pull you up. He pulls you close, so that you’re flush against him. And after six years, you both finally get what you want as you tilt your heads and lean in and kiss each other. 
The first kiss is soft, a lingering expression of love that has the two of you breathless as you focus on feeling each other’s lips and the electricity it seems to send through you. The second kiss is a little more, turns sucking on each other’s bottom lips are taken. The third kiss is where things really escalate and before you know it you and Jack are standing in front of his couch properly making out, tongues in each other’s mouths, Jack’s arms sliding around you to keep you close, one forearm running parallel up your spine and holding the nape of your neck, your hands finding Jack’s hair and running through it, scratching at his scalp and occasionally tugging. 
“We’re going to have to go to a different state though,” you laugh against his lips when you finally break apart for air. 
“Wait, what?” His question is a little breathless from kissing and he pulls away a bit so that you can look at each other properly. 
You nod. “Pennsylvania has a three day waiting period after you apply for a marriage license. It almost fucked up Shen’s wedding.” 
“Fuck,” Jack mutters. He looks off to the side in thought for a moment. You take the moment to admire him, this beautiful beautiful man who’s now yours. Who loves you. You keep running your hands through his hair. It’s not the first time you’ve done it but it’s the first time as his lover, his fiancée. “This is the start of our string of offs, right?”
“Mhm,” you hum, “sure is, Babe.”
Jack looks back at you, right in the eyes as usual. “Tomorrow we fly to Vegas. Elope.” 
You raise your eyebrows and pause, waiting to see if he says more or changes his mind or anything. When he doesn’t you bite your lip and nod. He’s probably not even aware of how loved it makes you feel to know he’s ready to marry you tomorrow. Just like that. But then you being ready to marry him tomorrow makes him feel the same. “Sounds like a plan, Dr. Abbot.” Jack’s pupils dilate even more, his hands sliding down your sides and back to grab your ass. “Get your laptop or my iPad, we can book the plane tickets now.”
Jack doesn’t move. “You know you’re going to be Dr. Abbot in less than 48 hours.” The realization has you taking a shallow breath in and subconsciously pressing yourself against Jack even harder. “And we can book later, in a couple of hours.”
You raise your eyebrows slightly. “Oh? Why the delay?”
He uses his hands that are still gripping your ass to grind your hips and pelvis against him as he does the same with his against you. You let out a soft moan when you feel just how hard he is, swear you can feel him throb against as you grow even wetter for him. “Because I’ve been waiting six years to fuck you and now I can. And I need to. You have no idea how badly I need you. So if it’s okay with you I’m going to take my fiancée to bed now.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I hope it was okay! I love hearing your guys' thoughts and comments, and I appreciate your likes, reblogs and replies so so much!
Although I'm struggling with how I'm feeling about the above, if there was any level of interest I could probably be persuaded to do a smutty part two because I do love some first time together smut and already have some ideas. So let me know if that's something you might like to see!
Thank you again for reading and all your support! ♥️
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You could do it with me.
Jack Abbot x F!Reader - Best friends to lovers!!!!!!!
11.1k || All my content is 18+ MDNI || CW: quickly resolved angst; patient death; coding that veteran for two hours; reference to DUI; suicidal ideation; discussion of Jack's injury; reader wants marriage and kids (I know this is not everyone’s fave or something everyone wants, but I needed it for the storyline so I’m sorry if it's not your thing); reader and Jack are idiots; reference to Shen’s wedding; reference and allusion to sex; allusion to masturbation; reader is briefly held hostage with a knife to her neck and gets a very light cut; mention of drugs generally; mention of demerol; blood; no use of y/n or related
This is for the A Doctor a Day event hosted by @ananonymousaffair, @clubsoft and @letsgobarbs. Thank you for hosting such an awesome event! My prompt was "You are the very beating and pulse of my heart" and my color was black!
Summary: A message from your college ex changes everything.
AN: I love best friends to lovers. I love when they're so god damn blind to each other's romantic love and interest. I love when they do things that are so beyond what best friends (generally) do. Also for the record I do think people of opposite genders can just be platonic best friends. I challenged myself to stay under 10k and lost, but I was really close so I'm taking it. For some reason I really ended up struggling with this and don't really love or even necessarily particularly like how it came out in the end. I'm just very unsure about it. Could not articulate why to save my life. I hope it ended up coming out and reading okay. I really appreciate you taking the time to read and hope you enjoy!
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You met Jack Abbot on the first day of your intern year, night shift.
He was an R4, but with the way he carried himself and practiced and the fact that he was older, you assumed he was your attending. You were both drawn to each other immediately. For both of you it was pretty much love at first sight and interaction. Neither of you could explain why if asked. It just was. By the end of your first twelve hours knowing each other you were in love with each other. 
Not, of course, that either of you told the other that. Because there was no way the other would feel the same. So instead you became best friends, almost instantly. Like after two weeks everyone had noticed how close you were. People hadn’t started assuming you were together at that point but they were assuming it was heading in that direction. 
Your reasons for not telling each other were slightly different then. For you, you were new and an intern to Jack’s R4, were quite sure Jack was not interested in you like that and, even that early on, having him in your life as a best friend was better than losing him and not having him in your life at all. For Jack, he was an R4 and you were an intern, plus he was older than you and missing a foot, he truly believed you weren’t and would never be into him like that and, as it was for you, even that early on, having you in his life as a best friend was better than losing you and not having you in his life at all.
And for a while you really were just best friends. But then over time you both seemed to greatly expand your definition of best friends. And after a while you were doing almost everything a couple did except for kissing and having sex and admitting feelings and saying you loved each other. To you and Jack though, it was all just being best friends, all things best friends did. 
The true beginning of that expansion was the first time you spent the night at Jack’s house, about three months after you met. 
Jack is confused when he sees you sitting at the hub eating the other half of the granola bar you’d started and not finished last night. It’s strange because he just assumed you guys would grab breakfast so why would you be eating. “Aren’t you off?” he asks you as he walks up to where you’re sitting.
“I am, but I just got a text from my neighbor that the AC in my apartment building is broken and won’t be fixed until this evening so I’m just gonna hang here.” You shrug. “Maybe work, maybe try to catch some sleep in the on-call room and then head home and pray it’s working.”
It has been disgustingly hot and humid the last week or ten days and being in your AC-less apartment on the fifth floor during the day was simply not happening. You’d rather be at the hospital getting shitty sleep in the on-call room or working. 
“Wasn’t this last shift our sixth straight night on?” Jack asks, with a raise of his brows.
“Indeed it was,” you sigh. “Pretty irritating because I would just like to go sleep. But what can you do? I’m not going home to sleep in this heat.”
“Yeah. No, you’re not.” It’s short, somewhere between disbelief and concern. “You’re not staying here either. Go grab your shit. You can crash at my place.” 
“Really?”
“No, I just said it to be a dick and take back the offer when you agreed.” Jack gives you a pointed really? look. “Yes, really. Now go get your shit before we both end up getting pulled back into something.”
“You don’t have to do that Jack, I’ll be fine. I wouldn’t want to intrude like that.” You shake your head at him a little. 
“I know I don’t have to offer, but you need to get some real sleep. I know you know that. You’ll make yourself sick. And you’re not intruding, you know that too.” Jack tilts his head at you.
“Aw,” you tease him a little, “are you worried about me?”
Jack rolls his eyes at you. You both know he is and that he does worry about you and that you worry about him. That’s what best friends do. “Okay, stay here then.” He shrugs.
“No, no. I’ll take you up on it if you’re still offering,” you say quickly. 
“I am.”
“Okay, let me grab my stuff.” You get up and head to the lockers, grab your things and make your way over to Jack. 
Once you’re out of the Pitt Jack turns to you as you walk towards your guys’ favorite breakfast spot. You haven’t discussed going there but it’s just unspoken at this point. “Why didn’t you just ask? How many times now have I told you you’re welcome at my place whenever? Open door or whatever. It’s not like you’ve never been to my place and don’t know I have a guest room.”
You shrug as he opens the door for you. “It felt like there was a difference between come over whenever and spend the night, or what’s our night, at my place.”
“Well there’s not,” he tells you as you slide into a booth sitting across from each other. “I’m telling you that now.”
Once you finish breakfast the two of you head to Jack’s place. Like Jack said, you’ve been to his place before. 
“You should take my bed,” Jack says once you’re at his place and both of you have set all your stuff down. “The guest bed mattress is really not the greatest. I need to replace it but nobody ever sleeps on it so I just haven’t gotten around to it.”
You’re thrown for a second at the prospect of sleeping in Jack’s bed. Even without him. “It’s alright, I don’t mind. My cheap mattress at home isn’t really the greatest.” 
“No seriously, you’ll probably wake up hurting.” He gives you a firm look. “Just let me take it.” 
“Oh, yes, because if it’s going to hurt the person who sleeps on it, the best idea is surely to give it to the older of the two of us.” You give him a look. 
“Did you just call me old?” Jack says in mock offence. 
“No, I just said you were older than me.” You soften a little. “I can tell your hip and back are hurting after six straight Jack.” You both know you’re right. This shift in particular he could really feel his hip and back compensating as his prosthetic caused him a little more pain than usual. “So just let me take the guest room.”
That makes Jack blush a little and you feel bad. You hadn’t meant to hit a nerve or make him self-conscious. “Hate than you can tell, but alright. You wanna shower before?” 
“If you don’t mind.”
“Wouldn’t have asked if I did. You’re going to have to use mine though. I don’t have any shampoo or whatever in the spare. And I’ll leave you a shirt and some boxers on my bed so you don’t have to get back into your scrubs.” He says it so casually, like he’s totally unaffected by it when he is in fact very, very affected. The thought of you in his clothes has him hardening. And the thought of wearing his clothes makes you feel warm and start to get slick between your thighs. 
You clear your throat. “Thank you.” 
Jack nods, flick his head to tell you to follow him and you do. He steps into his bathroom for a second and then comes back out. “Fresh towel and washcloth on the counter for you. I found a spare toothbrush too. Clothes will be on the bed. Shout if you need anything.”
It’s not until you’re in Jack’s shower squeezing some of his shampoo into your hand that you realize you’re going to smell like him at the end of this. You get even slicker between your legs at the thought and spend the entire shower telling yourself to stop thinking about him as anything other than your best friend. It doesn’t really work. 
And getting dried off and into Jack’s clothes does nothing to help the matter. His black shirt is oversized on you and he said boxers but he really meant boxer briefs which make you feel far closer to him in a way. 
You find Jack sitting on his couch reading. “Hey. Thank you for the shower and clothes.” Jack looks up at you and has to carefully control his reaction. He’s glad you’re far enough away that you don’t see the way his jaw clenches at how unbelievably hot you look in his clothes. It makes him feel possessive in a way he knows he shouldn’t. He’s also glad he’s sitting far enough away that you can’t see the bulge in his pants that starts to grow. 
“Of course.”
“I’m going to try and get some sleep. Wake me whenever you need me to leave.” Jack’s not waking you up. As far as he’s concerned you never need to leave. “And I hope you sleep well.” You give him a shy nod and turn to head back to the guest room. 
“Sleep well,” he calls after you. 
From then on, going to each other’s places after work slowly became a thing. By the end of your intern year it was far more common for you to end up at Jack’s place or him to end up at yours after work. Sometimes you’d spend what was your night at Jack’s, sometimes you wouldn’t. He only spent the night at yours once when you both fell asleep on your couch. You didn’t have a spare room and no way were you making Jack sleep on your couch and you knew he’d never accept your bed with you on the couch.
And then one day about a year and a half after meeting and being best friends both of you were clearly sore from your run of shifts and Jack floated the idea. 
“You wanna just sleep in my bed with me? It’s far more comfortable. And big enough so we don’t have to like… be particularly close or anything.” It takes a lot for him not to tack on ‘unless you want.’
“Oh.” His offer catches you by surprise. It feels like it should mean something, but best friends sleep in the same beds, right? It’s not that big of a deal. “Yeah, sure. That would be nice, thank you.” 
After you both shower you and Jack slide into his bed, staying respectfully at the edge of the side of the bed each of you is on. You wake up much closer, about a foot between you, and both of you have to fight the urge to snuggle into the other and try to use this opportunity to express your real feelings for each other.
After that, sleeping in the same bed became your usual thing. It opened up staying at your place more often after a while when you slowly started sleeping closer together since you had a smaller mattress. And before either of you knew it you had a drawer at Jack’s place and he had a drawer at yours, both of you had your toiletries in the other’s shower and on the other’s bathroom counter. It happened so naturally neither of you truly realized the implication for a while, and when you did you convinced yourselves that it was something best friends did.
You also convinced yourselves that getting ready in the bathroom together at the same time, bumping into each other and being close and Jack sometimes shirtless and you sometimes in just a bra and pants or shorts was something best friends did. And you wearing Jack’s clothes just because you liked to, not because you needed to borrow them, without asking him and wearing his shirt and boxer briefs to bed because they were comfortable was a best friends thing. So was Jack sleeping in just a pair of pajama pants and eventually just his boxer briefs in the same bed as you. Laying in his lap with your head on his chest cuddling or him snuggling up to you after a bad day as you watched a movie together was also just something best friends did. 
And then Jack had a really bad day. 
“Jack,” you say softly, moving your head down to try and get him to look at you as he keeps doing compressions. “We have to let him go.” Both you and Jack are sweaty, as are most of the people in the room with you. You’ve been coding the patient in front of you for two hours now. 
“Not your call to make,” he pants out. But it’s laced with anger and frustration. “You’re an R3 and I’m the attending. It’s not your call to make. So either keep running the code or get out.” It’s pretty close to snarled and makes you grimace. You and everybody in the room know that Jack’s anger and frustration isn’t truly at you. 
Jack knows you’re right but he can’t bring himself to stop. Because it’s unfair. It’s so fucking unfair. 
“Jack. Look at me.” He doesn’t stop compressions but he does lift his eyes to yours after a few seconds. “You know that I’m with you and just as aggressive as you. You know that if I thought for a second there was even the slightest chance of us getting him back I wouldn’t be telling you we have to let him go.” You nod at him, watch his jaw clench. The protective eye glasses he’s wearing might fool others into thinking that’s what’s making his eyes shiny but you know better. “He’s gone, Jack.” 
He just looks at you for another minute as he does compressions before he finally stops, panting hard. You both look up at the monitor. “Asystole,” you say quietly. You try to be quicker than Jack but aren’t and Jack’s the one to confirm with his stethoscope and you shut the monitor off. 
He pulls it away and puts it back on his neck as he speaks and glances at his watch. “Time of death 06:57.”
Jack is silent as he pulls his gloves, trauma gown and glasses off, tossing them in the biohazard bin before walking out. You tell everyone thank you before doing the same as Jack and walking out of the trauma room, head on a swivel as you look for him even though you’re pretty sure you know exactly where he is. It’s all but confirmed for you when you don’t see him in the immediate vicinity. 
It is confirmed when you step out onto the roof. You hate it when he stands on that side of the railing, it always scares the shit out of you because you always worry one day he’s going to do it. And if he was, today would likely be that day. You’re one of three people who work at the hospital other than Jack who knows that when it hit midnight seven hours ago it became the anniversary of the day of his injury. So yeah. With the significance of the day and the fact that you just coded a veteran for two hours, if he was going to do it, today seems like it could be the day. 
“You know you’re not allowed to leave me,” you call to him as you walk closer. Jack doesn’t say anything. “Seriously.” You reach the rail right behind him. “What the fuck am I gonna do if you jump?” 
Jack lets out a heavy sigh. “It’s unfair. It’s a fucking joke. Surviving over there to come back and be taken out by a drunk driver. Just like that.” He snaps his fingers as he says it. “What the fuck is the point? Of any of this anymore?” 
“It is unfair. And it’s pretty fucking cruel of the universe to have this happen ever, but especially to have it happen and put it in front of you today.” You let out a long breath. “And I don’t know what the point is either sometimes, or I lose sight of it. But I think the point is all the ones you can and do save and help, Jack. And if you jump then you can’t save or help anyone else. Civilian, service member or vet. You can’t teach others, pass on what you’ve learned. Every student and resident who comes through here would be worse off.” 
Jack knows you’re right. Some part of him wants to almost be mad at you for the way that you’re right and know what to say. He’s not though. He looks back at you a little to acknowledge he heard you. To tell you that you’re right and he knows it. 
“Will you come here, please, Jack?”
He gives a little shake of his head and lets out a shuddery breath before he turns and ducks under the rail so he’s standing right next to you. You turn into him and give him a hug. Jack returns it tightly and you can feel how hard he swallows. You know the last place he wants to show any further emotion is here so you pull out of the hug. 
“Let’s get out of here.” You grab Jack’s hand and start walking. Jack follows and the two of you only drop hands once someone else gets on the elevator with you. 
You guys manage to get out fairly quickly and unsurprisingly end up at Jack’s place. You take turns showering before crawling into bed together, both exhausted and ready to just pass out. You roll on your sides and look at each other. You know Jack needs to let some emotion out and you consider going to sleep in the guest room so he can be alone but the thought of him being alone today, especially after that code, makes you sad.
“Jack?” you say his name softly. He raises his eyebrows at you. “I know the real question you went up there looking for an answer to. Why were you the one to survive? And I’m not going to pretend to know the answer. I know this might be selfish of me, but I just want you to know that I’m really glad you were the one to survive.”
Jack’s mind spins. He can’t believe you knew that was the question. He can in a way, because it’s you and you always seem to know but part of him still can’t comprehend someone caring for him and knowing him how you do. And he wishes more than anything in the moment that he could kiss you. But he can’t. And he can’t risk losing you. His mind also spins trying to answer the question, why him, why did he survive over there, why does he survive over here? And it spins like it always does on this day, scenes of this day all those years ago playing in the background of his mind constantly.
He shakes his head a little at you, eyes glassy. He really didn’t want to cry. “You can come here, if you want, Jack.” 
Jack nods this time and slides over to you. You pull him close to you and wrap your arms around him as he buries his face in your neck and lets himself cry. You run your hands through his hair for the first time without even realizing it and keep doing it. Scratch at his scalp sometimes, play with the curls at the nape of his neck. You wish you could pull his head from your neck and kiss him, tell him you love him and have him know you mean it as more than just a friend. 
After that it became your guys’ normal. Cuddling together in bed, sleeping tangled up together or you on Jack’s chest or him on yours or with him as the big spoon or you as the big spoon, you running your hands through his hair, something you discovered relaxed him immensely and helped him fall asleep. 
Neither of you really dated over the years, not as such. It was just another thing that made everyone think you were already together or heavily in denial. As an intern and resident you didn’t really have the time, and it just wasn’t how you wanted to spend your free time at that point in your life. Jack theoretically had the time but he just didn’t want to put the effort into it really. He was content with you, even non-romantically. As you were with him. You did want more though, you did want to get married and have kids one day. With someone. You knew it would never be Jack and that if you wanted that you were eventually going to have to get over Jack and go try. You just never really brought yourself to.
Occasionally over the years each of you would pick someone up at a bar or somewhere and have some casual sex. Sometimes it turned into a bit of a friends with benefits situation and you’d see the person more than once. That was all more common for you. Jack wasn’t super into casual sex or friends with benefits. You went on a couple of dates to appease some friends and try to get over Jack. He did the same to try and get over you. Nothing ever went anywhere. 
People of course noticed how close you and Jack were. The way you always seemed to walk in and out of work together. The times you’d come in wearing Jack’s sweatshirt. The reactions you’d both have at times when the other got flirted with, either at work or when everyone went out to a bar or somewhere. 
Both of you were constantly getting asked if you were together, some people just assumed it. You both always laughed and said no, you weren’t, you didn’t know why so many people thought that, you’re just best friends. Bets were placed on when you guys would finally either admit you were together already or realize what literally everyone else could tell, that you were both in love with each other, and finally get together as a couple.
A few people bet on it taking one of you to get worryingly sick or injured or otherwise put in danger for the other to admit their feelings. They were proven wrong one night. 
Your mistake was something you’d done hundreds of times before. Walking out into the ambulance bay by yourself in the middle of the night. It’s how you find yourself being held hostage and walked back into the ED with a knife pressed against your throat. 
Sound seems to go. You’re only vaguely aware of the guy holding you making demands for drugs. Your eyes drag across the floor looking for a single person. One you can’t find. He must be in with a patient. You know he’s the only person who would give you any comfort in this situation but a part of you is almost glad you don’t see him. 
You don’t want him to see this. Especially if this guy ends up using the knife on you. You really don’t want Jack to see that. 
The scream a patient lets out and the general collective gasps he hears are Jack’s initial clues something is wrong. The chilly silence that follows is another clue and he decides to go look, makes his way to the door of the exam room he’s in. He doesn’t know what he expects to see when he steps out but it sure isn’t you with a knife pressed to your throat. And yet that’s what he sees.
Jack’s entire world stops, the vial of medication he was holding falling out of his hand. His eyes find yours immediately. “I’m sorry,” you mouth to him. He shakes his head. Why the fuck are you sorry? is all he can think. 
Jack walks forward holding up his hands. “What do you want?” he asks the guy. 
“Finally somebody with some fucking sense. Demerol. 150. To start. Then I want all the fucking vials of it and morphine you have with a bunch of needles.” The guy laughs, thinks he’s about to make out. 
“And then you’ll let her go?” Jack asks.
“I’ll walk her out with me and then I’ll let her go, yeah.”
“Fine,” Jack nods at him. “I’ll pull your dose now.” The way the guy laughs as Jack walks over to pull some demerol out makes him want to be sick. If something happens to you, anything at all, if you die, Jack swears he’ll die with you. He’d never forgive himself. He’s eerily calm and steady for how fast his heart is racing but he knows he needs to be calm and focused to get you out of this alive and physically uninjured. He knows the mental injuries are already there. 
Jack can’t quite pin down how sophisticated this guy is. The laughter makes Jack think he’s not very. That he doesn’t really know what he’s doing. So Jack tries it, sees if the guy will tell him to show him the vial first and pull it in front of him and make Jack give himself some to prove it’s nothing dangerous first. He takes a vial of etomidate out and pulls a dose, starts walking over to the guy. 
There’s no questioning. No telling Jack to go back and bring it all over and pull it in front of him, no asking Jack if Jack think he’s stupid. Only that fucking laugh that neither you nor Jack will ever forget.
“Need a vein,” Jack tells the guy as he gets close. 
“Back of the hand. The one holding the knife. She can watch,” the guy grunts at Jack and laughs as he tightens his grip on the knife and presses it into your neck hard enough to give you little deeper than a paper cut, but deep enough to draw some blood. 
The sight of your blood makes him want to be sick because, even though it’s only a few drops, you still have a fucking knife against your throat that’s making you bleed. Jack nods at you but doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t want to risk pissing the guy off, not with how tight that knife is against your skin. Jack feels the back of the guys hand for a vein to make sure they’re not all blown. He finds one and so Jack pushes the med and then steps back 
“I’m getting the rest now, okay?” Jack starts walking backwards slowly. It’s the longest onset time of Jack’s entire life but he can see when it starts to hit the guy and he’s already running back towards you as the etomidate renders the guy unconscious. “Etomidate,” Jack shouts at nobody in particular so at least somebody knows what he gave the guy and can deal with him accordingly.
The second the knife drops from your throat you’re stepping forward and Jack is right there to grab you and pull you away from the guy. Jack crushes you to him. “Jack,” you whimper as your hands fist at his scrub top at his chest, his arms wrapping around you and holding you tighter than he ever has before. 
“Fuck,” he breathes out, “fuck, you’re okay.” You’re shaking in Jack’s arms just as much as he’s shaking having you safe and in his as the adrenaline crashes for you both. “Let me see your neck.” 
He tries to pull away but you cling to him and follow him. “It’s fine, it’s fine. Just stay, please.” 
Jack wants to look at your neck for himself but he knows you’re right that it’s okay for now and you clearly need him like this and frankly he needs you like this too. Safe in his arms. 
It makes you feel safe. If you’re in Jack’s arms nothing is going to happen to you. You trust him. You know he’s safe, will keep you safe. “Please stay,” you whisper, voice shaking. “I need you.” 
“I’m not going anywhere,” he promises. “I’ve got you. And I’m not letting you out of my sight.” Jack’s voice is shaky like yours. “I can’t lose you.”
Everyone who heard that line and the way Jack said it had thought it meant you in fact weren’t together but Jack was going to admit his feelings to you and you’d admit yours back and you’d finally be together and holding hands walking in and calling each other pet names. And Jack almost did admit his feelings to you. But then you guys had gotten home and went about your routine and you were so shaken and clingy that he wasn’t able to bring himself to tell you and risk losing you, especially when you needed him so much in the aftermath. So it didn’t happen. 
The calling each other a pet name, however, did. But not in the way anyone expected. To you and Jack the word just became a nickname. One that intensified the confusion about what you and Jack were. 
You’re standing at the hub charting when you overhear Jack finishing discharge instructions with a mom and her five or six year old daughter as he walks them towards the door. You’re finally an R4 about two weeks away from starting the attending position you were offered and accepted. Jack is of course still an attending. Your schedules are almost always identical. It was easy to pull off when most people didn’t want to work nights and the two of you volunteered to. You both knew it would be staying that way once you became an attending.
“Thank you so much, babe!” You watch the mom tell Jack as she hugs him. You bite your lip to stifle your laugh, continuing to watch as Jack remains completely still. “And like we talked about if you ever need anything or get bored, here’s my number,” she giggles as she presses a post-it note to his chest. You’d be more jealous if you thought for a single second Jack might actually be interested, but he is so clearly not you almost feel embarrassed for the woman. The whole thing is so funny you have to quickly log out and walk away to keep from laughing. 
The second the mom is out the door Jack tosses the post-it note with a shake of his head. Jack has always gotten hit on at work. He’s always gotten flirted with everywhere really. He very, very rarely flirts back. But though he may not have put it together, everyone else, yourself included, has noticed that now that he’s truly gone salt and pepper he gets flirted with far more. 
Later that night around 1:30 a.m. the two of you are at the hub charting together. “Can you take the eight year old with a possible broken arm from a bunk bed fall with the new med student, Cooper? I said I would but I don’t think I can handle another mom right now and I would really love to try and get like four bites of literally anything.”
“I suppose for you I can,” you tease him, bumping your hip against his. “I brought us leftovers from last night too. They’re in the fridge.”
“I knew I kept you around for a reason.” You scoff in mock offense as Jack logs off his computer. He looks over at you and waits until you look up at him which doesn’t take long. “Thank you.” He gives you a flash of a smile and then starts to walk toward the breakroom. 
The opportunity is too good to pass up. After he gets a step or two away you call out to him. “Sure thing, babe!” 
Jack stops walking and tilts his head letting out a single huffed laugh as he shakes his head and rolls his eyes before he resumes walking. He can’t keep the small smile off his face though. 
A while later Jack finds you again at the hub, just the two of you. You guys chat for a bit until you get called away. “Oh,” you turn back to Jack, “can you remind me to check if my mascara is dried out when we get home. I’m going to need some for Shen’s wedding.”
Jack smirks at you and you already know what he’s about to say. “Sure thing, babe!” 
The nickname stuck and it pretty much became your and Jack’s exclusive way of referring to each other. You both ached for it to be a real pet name. People assumed that calling each other ‘babe’ constantly would lead to a conversation and so you’d get together within a month or so. Especially because then you’d be an attending. You wouldn’t technically be Jack’s student anymore, you’d be equals. But you still didn’t get together.
And once you became an attending and had been one for six months or so and nothing happened, people stopped placing bets. Because surely if it was going to happen it would have already. 
A year after you became an attending you started to notice it more than you had before. It felt like most of your patients were children with their parents or newlyweds or recently engaged or celebrating their 50th wedding anniversary or pregnant. Marriage and kids were frequently on your mind. But you still couldn’t bring yourself to put yourself out there and try to find someone. 
You talk about it casually with a couple of people at work, that you think you’d like marriage and kids one day, and the interest in you and Jack is renewed and bets start getting placed again. 
And one day, six years after you met, it finally happens.
You and Jack walk into his place after your shift. You unsurprisingly had to stay late so it’s 9 a.m. or so, your guys’ evening. It wasn’t a bad shift in the scope of things, but it wasn’t the easiest shift you’ve ever had either. 
Jack keeps semi blackout curtains in his living room and pulls them closed while you grab a drink for yourself and a beer for Jack from his fridge without even asking if he wants one. You don’t turn any lights on. The curtains dim the room, but you can still easily see each other.
He sits on the opposite end of the couch from you, leaning into the corner of it and putting the thigh of one leg on it as he tilts his body towards you so that you guys can see each other. Manspreading like always. If only he knew how insane it drove you. You hand him his beer and then settle back into the same position, and if only you knew how insane your legs being relatively spread open drove him. 
“I guess at least nobody died,” you mutter before taking a drink. 
Jack nods slowly as he finishes swallowing. “We’ll take the wins where we can.” He tilts his head at you. “Didn’t see much of you tonight.” 
“It was busy. I think we kept hitting our free moments at different times. It’s not like I was ignoring you.” You give him a knowing look, confused about why he’s even commenting on it. It’s something that just happens sometimes. 
He’s commenting because he missed you, quite a lot today for some reason, and especially because he saw you on your phone a decent amount at the beginning of your shift, more than you usually are, and you seemed happy. Of course he wants you to be happy, but he wants to know why. Why you weren’t using that time to come see him and let him make you happy. He’s hoping the explanation isn’t another man. 
“You seemed to be in an awfully good mood at the beginning of your shift.” He tries to keep it light, like it’s just something he noticed and not him trying to probe for information.
“Eh. My college ex boyfriend texted me.” You roll your eyes. “It was random more than anything.”
He swallows hard. Fuck. It was another man. “Oh,” Jack draws the word out, “is that who was making you smile down at your phone until about midnight tonight?” He smirks at you like he isn’t internally seething with jealousy.
You roll your eyes again but this time at Jack. “He sent me the most ridiculous opening line and it was funny, so it made me smile, yes.” 
Jack’s jaw sets and he takes a drink of his beer so that he doesn’t grind his teeth loud enough for you to hear. “You sharing or?”
There’s the faintest hint of snippiness in his tone that makes you narrow your eyes at him slightly. Jack knows all about your college ex, how he decided he didn’t want to move with you for medical school and then again for residency potentially. It broke your heart at the time but things still ended amicably all things considered. You figure the snippiness is related to Jack disliking him.
“He asked if I went into cardiology because, and I quote ‘you are the very beating and pulse of my heart.’” You start laughing as you finish saying it. Jack hardly even laughs, he just rolls his eyes and shakes his head, shifts to sit straighter on the couch so he’s looking at the black TV in front of him and not over at you. “Oh come on,” you nudge his thigh with your foot. “It was funny.”
Jack takes another swig of his beer and pulls his lips down, shrugs slightly. “Worked on you enough that you memorized it.” 
You choke on the sip of your drink you just took, coughing a little. Jack glances over at you for a second just to make sure you’re okay. 
“Worked on me? It didn’t fucking work on me. He sent it to break the ice, babe.” You furrow your brows and shake your head at him, looking at him with a mixture of disbelief and confusion. 
“Well you liked it enough to remember it and keep talking to him.” He already knows you’re going to go see this guy and probably get into a relationship and that’ll pretty much be the end of your best friends relationship as you know it now. 
You scoff at him. “I found it funny enough to remember. There’s a difference.” 
“Okay,” he sings, clearly not believing you and you just shake your head at him. You both take sips of your drinks. Even with Jack’s kind of strange behavior the silence is still comfortable. “So why’d he text you after all this time? It’s been like what? Ten years?”
You shift on the couch and pull your legs up to your chest. “He moved to Pittsburgh. Asked if I’d be interested in seeing him.”
Jack’s head snaps over to you. “You are, aren’t you? You’re going to see him?” 
His gaze is so intense it feels like it’s pinning you in place. “Yeah.” You shrug. You don’t get why this is such a big deal all of the sudden. You need this. You need to move on from Jack. You need to try and have the rest of the life you want, even if it’s not quite how you pictured it. You and Jack would still be best friends and some things might change, but it’s not like everything would change or suddenly you’d just stop hanging out because you got married and had kids.
Jack scoffs at you now. “Why?” There’s a bite behind his tone. He’s not sure if you have a real reason or if it’s just to reconnect. You squirm under his gaze for a second before you have to look away as you give him another shrug. That’s the confirmation he needs. “Bull-fucking-shit, you absolutely have a reason.” You let out a breath and occupy your mouth with another sip of your drink. “Fine. Then look me in the eye and tell me you don’t have a reason.” 
You sigh and look back at him. You swear he almost seems mad with how serious he looks, lips pressed in a line, still staring at you with that same intensity, eyes slightly narrowed. You know you’re going to have to tell him because you can’t lie to him. As in you couldn’t bring yourself to do it and also he would know the second it came out of your mouth. 
“It’s stupid,” you admit, “it’s stupid and I know it and a big part of me doesn’t care. But you’ll think it’s stupid too. Think I’m stupid for even considering it.” 
“Hey.” Jack shifts on the couch so he’s turned towards you again, features softened. “You’re not stupid. I know you far too well to know that if there is one thing in this world that you are definitively not, it’s stupid. If it’s a stupid idea, yeah I will tell you that. ” 
You look down at your hands. You know you’re going to have to tell him eventually. If you end up doing it then it’s going to come out. “When we broke up we made this stupid pact together that we both thought was just a funny joke at the time. We said if we reached the age we are now and weren’t married or in a serious relationship we’d get married and have kids together.” You pause for a second and swallow. “Neither of us are married or in a serious relationship. So you know…”
Jack’s jaw falls open a little as his head lolls forward. Adrenaline floods his body so fast he grows cold in seconds, stomach churning. He can’t lose you. Not like this. If you dated the guy and fell back in love with him that would be one thing. But this? No. And actually, no in general. He can’t lose you. He can’t watch you marry someone else and have someone else’s kids. He knows you really want marriage and kids and he wants that for you, just selfishly only with him. It gets harder to breathe as some actual panic starts to seep into him. 
He lets out an incredulous laugh. “You’re actually fucking considering this?” 
Tears sting at the back of your eyes. You know he’s not laughing at you and you know he’s not truly judging you but his reaction still hurts in a way you didn’t expect it to. All you can do is nod at him. 
Jack laughs again, running a hand through his hair and shaking his head. “Fucking why?”
“Because Jack!” He shrinks back slightly, eyebrows raising at your response and the emotion he thinks he hears in your voice. “Because I want to share my life with someone romantically! Because I want to get married and have a house and have kids! I want that life. And I’m not getting any fucking younger.”
“Oh my fucking god,” Jack scoffs. He’s nearly at a loss for words. “How can you say that? You haven’t even been looking for someone! You don’t date and I know you’ve been asked out plenty of times. And don’t give the excuse of being too busy because we both know that’s not true anymore.” He shakes his head at you and looks pissed. “Do you even fucking love him?” 
You shrug. You have absolutely no justification for why you don’t date other than because you’re in love with Jack. So you don’t even really try to justify anything. “I haven’t been, no, but I’ve still always wanted that stuff and this kind of fell in my lap and so maybe it’s a sign. And as for loving him… yeah. No. Kind of? I don’t know anymore. Would he be my first pick? No. But he’s nice, he treated me well and he’ll be a good dad I think. And maybe now that we’re both grown up there will be more of a spark there.” You knew Jack would think it was a stupid and bad idea but you didn’t know he’d react quite this strongly. In part you’re not sure why he cares so much. He’s your best friend. He should want to see you happy and living the life you want. And this is a way for you to at least be living the life you want and to be happy enough.
“So what, you’re going to fucking settle? Settle for the guy who broke your heart? The guy who couldn’t be fucking asked to move maybe twice for you so that you could do what you dreamed of? The guy who allegedly loved you but not quite enough to make any sacrifices for you?” Jack tilts his head at you. “Babe you deserve so much better. So much fucking better. Don’t do this to yourself. Don’t even consider it further. Please” 
“I think maybe I would be enough for him now. He reached out. Remembered. That has to count for something, right? And I want it Jack.” You shrug at him. You’re a little upset. Not with Jack, just with everything else. With what you don’t have. With the way you struggle about whether you really want marriage and kids without Jack now that you’re really thinking about it. “I want that life and I feel like I’m running out of time and yeah, I haven’t been looking so that’s on me, but still. You can want something and still be okay with not having it. But if the opportunity arose, if it just kind of fell in your lap… you know?”
“I know,” Jack whispers before speaking at a normal level. “I just want you to be with someone who you are enough for. Because you are enough. You are so much fucking more than enough.” Jack nods at you, hoping it will help drive his words home. “He doesn’t deserve you. Any fucking part of you. He doesn’t deserve another second of your time. I know you won’t be happy with him. Not truly. You would be settling and you know it. But you don’t have to settle. You don’t. You still have time. You can still have the life you want, just with someone who really makes you happy. Who you really want to live that life with. You still have time to find that person. Your person. So don’t do this to yourself. Please.”
Your heart aches. You know and love Jack so deeply, he’s the one you trust with every secret and part of you. You wish that you could tell him you already found your person. You already found the man who makes you really, truly happy. You already found the man you want to live your life with. That you’re staring at him.
“Jack, we have to be realistic. When am I going to go find that person? With what time? And where? It’ll take me forever to find someone.” You let out a short breath. “And then after I do find them it’s at minimum a year of dating, an engagement, then a wedding, then wanting time as just a couple before kids. I don’t have that kind of time. I have a couple of years at best.” 
“You’re giving yourself an artificial timeline.” He shakes his head. He’s not getting through to you. “You could still go find them. Or at least do this all, marriage and kids, with someone better.” 
“Who, Jack?” You laugh exasperatedly. “Who the fuck is that? I’d still have to find them. At least I know him. That’s better than jumping into this with a stranger. Who the fuck else do I know that I would do this with?” 
There’s a silence as you and Jack stare at each other. 
And then Jack raises his eyebrows and tilts his head at you quickly, just a one second or two flash. 
It hits you. 
“Jack?” you whisper. You need him to say it. Because there’s no fucking way.
He swallows hard. “Please just don’t do it with him.” 
“Jack.” 
“Me.” He rushes the word out, taking a few heavy breaths. “You could do it with me.” 
You stop breathing for a second as you look at him, expression unreadable in a way that makes him incredibly self-conscious, blush creeping up his neck to his ears and cheeks. You’re stunned. Beyond stunned. While your body is still and you’re silent your mind is running a million miles an hour screaming seventy things at once. There’s no way he means this as a romantic thing. He just has to be volunteering himself because he thinks he’s at least better than your college ex. 
The breath you take in thirty seconds later is still shocked. You lick your lips quickly and open your mouth to say something, but then close it when you can’t think of anything. This happens a couple of times before Jack speaks again. He’s quite sure he knows what your reaction means. That you’re trying to find a way to turn him down nicely. 
“I know I’m not him and I’m sure I have much less to offer than him.” You stare at Jack as he speaks, bring a hand up to cover your mouth. “And I know that I come with baggage and that I’m older and that I’m missing a piece of me, literally, but I just think, no I know I could make you happier than he could.” 
You’re silent for a minute. You process what he says but your brain doesn’t formulate a reply to it because you need to know exactly what Jack means. You move your hand from your mouth and rest it to the side of you. 
Your voice is surprisingly even, just like your body is still. You haven’t given into the trembling you can feel coming yet. “Is that… Would you want that? Or would it just be a pact kind of thing to you?” You’re still not convinced he’s thinking about this the same way you are. You’re convinced he’s just offering to take the place of your ex in the pact, not that he’s in love with you like you are with him.
The way you gloss over what he said hurts. He tries to hold onto some modicum of hope that all of this will get figured out and he won’t lose you but it’s getting hard. 
Jack lets out the saddest laugh you’ve ever heard by anyone ever. “Oh no, I want that. I’ve wanted that for a long time. Wanted you. I’ve been in love with you since that first day. The first day I met you. And I’m sorry if knowing it would be really real for me ruins it and makes me not an option. But even if it’s not me you should still find someone better than him.” He shrugs and looks away from you. 
“Are you being for fucking real?” He nods, still looking down. “No, Jack.” You move down the couch so that you’re sitting right next to each other, you with your legs crossed facing Jack who’s still turned into the couch so that he could see you. “Look at me.” He forces himself to look up at you. “Are you serious right now? Do you mean it? You want me? You’re in love with me? Like more than platonically?” 
Jack’s heart breaks because it’s not the declaration of love he’d hoped you give him in return. 
“Yes.” He nods at you, gives you the eye contact you sought, as intense as always even with his glassy and somewhat defeated looking eyes. “I want you. I’m in love with you. I’m in love with you like I want to marry you, I want you to be my wife and me to be your husband, I want to give you my last name, I want to confuse the fuck out of everyone on night shift with two Dr. Abbots, I want you to be the mother of my kids, I want to get you pregnant, more than once maybe, I want to grow old holding your hand and kissing your lips and making you laugh. I want you. I’m in love with you. I love you. I have always loved you.”
You swallow hard, the trembling finally hitting your entire body. “Why did you never say anything or make a move?” 
Your lack of real response to everything he just admitted confirms it for Jack. You don’t feel the same way. You don’t love him like he does you. There’s not going to be any saving this. 
“Because I knew you’d never reciprocate and if I said anything or made a move it would make things awkward and if it didn’t totally end our friendship it would have at least changed it significantly. And having you in my life like this, as my best friend, like you have been for the past six years was so much better than not having you in my life at all and being tortured seeing you at work.” Jack sniffles a little. “But then you started talking about marriage and kids with this guy and I know you want that life and that if you were even considering this pact you were either going to do it or probably start seriously dating and looking for someone. And so I sat here and realized I’d lose you either way. If I admitted my unrequited love I’d lose you. If you do it with him or go find someone to have that life with we obviously wouldn’t be able to continue how we are and so you’d slowly slip away and I’d lose you. So I figured I might as well throw it out there so that if nothing else you know that you are enough for someone. So much more than enough. And you shouldn’t settle for anyone who thinks differently.” 
You look at Jack for a few seconds and then you laugh. Hard. Because you cannot think of how else to react in the moment and Jack fucking Abbot is in love with you and you’re in love with him and you both have been forever and you’re both fucking idiots. 
The sound is a knife through Jack’s heart. 
You quiet your laughter and smile at Jack. He can’t quite believe it because it would be so out of character for you but Jack assumes you’re about to make fun of him. What else could you do?
“Knew I’d never reciprocate? Unrequited love?” You let out a few giggles this time. “Jack Abbot I have loved you every day for the past six years. I fell in love with you the day we met too. I am in love with you. Romantically. I love you.” You laugh again, a few tears slipping down your face, not from the laughter but the other emotions the laughter is just audibly louder than. “You’re sitting here talking about me going and finding my person and I’m trying not to fucking lose it because I’m sitting here fucking staring at my person so sure you would never reciprocate. You’re the one who makes me happy. The fucking happiest. The happiest I’ve ever been.” You take a breath and look at Jack, laughter leaving you and watery smile pulling up on your face, eyes the brightest Jack has ever seen them even in the relatively low light. “You are the one I want that life with. Marriage and kids. I said he wasn’t my first choice. You know who fucking is? You, Jack. You. It’s always been you. I’ve always loved you, too.” 
“Me?” There’s no fucking way.
“Yeah, Jack. You!” You’re beaming at him.
“You’re being for fucking real now?” He loosely mimics what you asked him earlier. A tentative smile pulls onto his face. He’s still struggling to believe that you love him. “You’re in love with me?”
“Yes. Like, like, I don’t even fucking know,” you pause trying to search for a word but it’s hard with how fucking giddy you are, “I’m soul-consumingly in love with you. Head over heels. All the clichés. I’m in love with you. I love you. I love you too.” 
His smile widens and he rests a hand on your thigh. He has to be sure you understand the reality of him though. Or what he thinks the reality of him is. “But I’m-”
“Oh, don’t even start with the I’m older and missing a piece of myself and have baggage. I’ve got some baggage myself. And I know you fucking know that.” You give him a pointed look though your smile remains. “I don’t care how old you are. And it’s hot quite frankly. I mean you are in general but you being older. The salt and pepper drives me fucking insane. Hardest day of my life was when you got enough gray for me to really notice. I had to go back to my place alone after shift and damn near burned out a vibrator over it, I mean jesus fucking christ, I set a personal record, Jack. Your age is hot. You’re hot. And handsome. Unfairly so.” You grow a little more serious to address the last point Jack had brought up earlier, rest one of your hands over his on your thigh and your other hand on his knee. “And yes. You’re missing a piece of yourself. But that doesn’t matter to me Jack. And I know what you think but it’s not unattractive, it doesn’t make you less desirable. And it certainly doesn’t somehow make you less of a man, Jack.”
His head is spinning. At all of. The whole situation. Him professing his love. You professing yours. The fact that you’re in love with each other. That you both want to get married and have kids. His brain glitched out for a second at almost burned out a vibrator and set a personal record all because you were thinking of him. And the way you read him like a book when all he said was he was he’s missing a piece of himself and reassured him perfectly, textbook example of a reason why he loves you. 
Jack’s eyes search yours as he beams with you now. He laughs, and he understands why you laughed. A few tears slide down his face, just as happy and emotional as you. “We’re fucking idiots.”
You laugh with him and nod. “Total fucking idiots.”
“We could have had all those years together. Why did you never say anything?” Jack asks, his free hand covering your hand on his knee. You’re both still so in shock and processing that kissing each other or continuing this conversation with you straddling him or somehow being closer than you are now hasn’t come to the forefront of either of your minds. 
“Same reason you didn’t. Having you somehow was better than not at all. And I mean, Jack,” you let out a flustered laugh, “you have to know like everyone wants you. You could have anybody you wanted and so I never thought you’d want me.”
“Hey. Listen to me.” Jack grows more serious though a soft smile remains. He shifts so that he can hold your face in his hands. He’s held your face like this before, many times, but not like this. This is different. You know you love each other. And while Jack is still your best friend and will always be your best friend, he’s your partner now. Your lover. Your future husband. Your future children’s father. And the same is true for Jack. You are and will always be his best friend, but you’re his partner now. His lover. His future wife. His future children’s mother. And so Jack’s holding your face like that. Like you’re his, in every sense of the word. “There is not a single human being on this entire fucking planet who I want more than you. Not a single fucking one. And there isn’t one that’s better for me. You’re the only woman I see anymore. You’ve been the only woman I see for a long time. You are the only one I want and the only one for me, Babe.”
You grin at the nickname and how it really is a pet name now, how it suddenly holds even more meaning. And you nod at Jack’s words, relish in how they warm your heart and make you feel so needed and wanted and loved. You know he means them. With his entire being. You bring your hands up and wrap them around Jack’s wrists as he holds your face, thumbs rubbing soft circles on the inside of his wrists. 
“You are the only one I want and the only for me, Babe,” you repeat to him. You bite your lip and giggle again and it goes straight to Jack’s cock. Now that you can say it you can’t help yourself. “And I can’t wait to marry you one day.”
“Oh yeah?” He smirks, confidence back in full force, seductive without even really trying. “You want it to be soon?” Jack tilts his head and leans his head in a little closer. You both know you’re fucking finally about to kiss. 
“Could be tomorrow as far as I’m concerned.” You wink at him. It’s kind of a joke but also not really. You’d marry him tomorrow. “But I do want to wait on kids. I know we’ve been dating in a sense for effectively six years, but I want time for us to really be a couple together. Just the two of us. We have a lot of time to make up for.” You look down at Jack’s lips and tilt your head opposite his, lean in even closer expecting him to close the gap. 
But instead he pulls away, making your face furrow. “Seriously?” Jack asks. 
“To which part?” Your confusion at his question and at his pulling back is clear in your tone.
Jack lets go of your face and you let go of his wrists. He stands, confusing you further until he pulls at the fabric of his scrub pants on one leg and sinks onto one knee. “Jack.” Your breathing picks up and tears hit your eyes. 
“I’m sorry I don’t have a ring right now. But I will buy you whatever you want-”
“I want whatever you pick out, Jack,” you interrupt him. 
He huffs a laugh. He loves you so much. You would interrupt his proposal for that. “Okay. I’m sorry I don’t have a ring right now. But I will pick you out one and we’ll get wedding bands on our way. I want to do life by your side forever. I love you.” Jack takes in a breath. “Will you marry me? Tomorrow?”
You nod as you start laughing. “Yeah. Yes! Of course I’ll marry you, Jack. Tomorrow.” 
You and Jack are beaming at each other again as he starts to laugh with you, standing back up and holding his hands out for you. You take them and uncross your legs, let Jack help pull you up. He pulls you close, so that you’re flush against him. And after six years, you both finally get what you want as you tilt your heads and lean in and kiss each other. 
The first kiss is soft, a lingering expression of love that has the two of you breathless as you focus on feeling each other’s lips and the electricity it seems to send through you. The second kiss is a little more, turns sucking on each other’s bottom lips are taken. The third kiss is where things really escalate and before you know it you and Jack are standing in front of his couch properly making out, tongues in each other’s mouths, Jack’s arms sliding around you to keep you close, one forearm running parallel up your spine and holding the nape of your neck, your hands finding Jack’s hair and running through it, scratching at his scalp and occasionally tugging. 
“We’re going to have to go to a different state though,” you laugh against his lips when you finally break apart for air. 
“Wait, what?” His question is a little breathless from kissing and he pulls away a bit so that you can look at each other properly. 
You nod. “Pennsylvania has a three day waiting period after you apply for a marriage license. It almost fucked up Shen’s wedding.” 
“Fuck,” Jack mutters. He looks off to the side in thought for a moment. You take the moment to admire him, this beautiful beautiful man who’s now yours. Who loves you. You keep running your hands through his hair. It’s not the first time you’ve done it but it’s the first time as his lover, his fiancée. “This is the start of our string of offs, right?”
“Mhm,” you hum, “sure is, Babe.”
Jack looks back at you, right in the eyes as usual. “Tomorrow we fly to Vegas. Elope.” 
You raise your eyebrows and pause, waiting to see if he says more or changes his mind or anything. When he doesn’t you bite your lip and nod. He’s probably not even aware of how loved it makes you feel to know he’s ready to marry you tomorrow. Just like that. But then you being ready to marry him tomorrow makes him feel the same. “Sounds like a plan, Dr. Abbot.” Jack’s pupils dilate even more, his hands sliding down your sides and back to grab your ass. “Get your laptop or my iPad, we can book the plane tickets now.”
Jack doesn’t move. “You know you’re going to be Dr. Abbot in less than 48 hours.” The realization has you taking a shallow breath in and subconsciously pressing yourself against Jack even harder. “And we can book later, in a couple of hours.”
You raise your eyebrows slightly. “Oh? Why the delay?”
He uses his hands that are still gripping your ass to grind your hips and pelvis against him as he does the same with his against you. You let out a soft moan when you feel just how hard he is, swear you can feel him throb against as you grow even wetter for him. “Because I’ve been waiting six years to fuck you and now I can. And I need to. You have no idea how badly I need you. So if it’s okay with you I’m going to take my fiancée to bed now.”
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I hope it was okay! I love hearing your guys' thoughts and comments, and I appreciate your likes, reblogs and replies so so much!
Although I'm struggling with how I'm feeling about the above, if there was any level of interest I could probably be persuaded to do a smutty part two because I do love some first time together smut and already have some ideas. So let me know if that's something you might like to see!
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You could do it with me.
Jack Abbot x F!Reader - Best friends to lovers!!!!!!!
11.1k || All my content is 18+ MDNI || CW: quickly resolved angst; patient death; coding that veteran for two hours; reference to DUI; suicidal ideation; discussion of Jack's injury; reader wants marriage and kids (I know this is not everyone’s fave or something everyone wants, but I needed it for the storyline so I’m sorry if it's not your thing); reader and Jack are idiots; reference to Shen’s wedding; reference and allusion to sex; allusion to masturbation; reader is briefly held hostage with a knife to her neck and gets a very light cut; mention of drugs generally; mention of demerol; blood; no use of y/n or related
This is for the A Doctor a Day event hosted by @ananonymousaffair, @clubsoft and @letsgobarbs. Thank you for hosting such an awesome event! My prompt was "You are the very beating and pulse of my heart" and my color was black!
Summary: A message from your college ex changes everything.
AN: I love best friends to lovers. I love when they're so god damn blind to each other's romantic love and interest. I love when they do things that are so beyond what best friends (generally) do. Also for the record I do think people of opposite genders can just be platonic best friends. I challenged myself to stay under 10k and lost, but I was really close so I'm taking it. For some reason I really ended up struggling with this and don't really love or even necessarily particularly like how it came out in the end. I'm just very unsure about it. Could not articulate why to save my life. I hope it ended up coming out and reading okay. I really appreciate you taking the time to read and hope you enjoy!
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You met Jack Abbot on the first day of your intern year, night shift.
He was an R4, but with the way he carried himself and practiced and the fact that he was older, you assumed he was your attending. You were both drawn to each other immediately. For both of you it was pretty much love at first sight and interaction. Neither of you could explain why if asked. It just was. By the end of your first twelve hours knowing each other you were in love with each other. 
Not, of course, that either of you told the other that. Because there was no way the other would feel the same. So instead you became best friends, almost instantly. Like after two weeks everyone had noticed how close you were. People hadn’t started assuming you were together at that point but they were assuming it was heading in that direction. 
Your reasons for not telling each other were slightly different then. For you, you were new and an intern to Jack’s R4, were quite sure Jack was not interested in you like that and, even that early on, having him in your life as a best friend was better than losing him and not having him in your life at all. For Jack, he was an R4 and you were an intern, plus he was older than you and missing a foot, he truly believed you weren’t and would never be into him like that and, as it was for you, even that early on, having you in his life as a best friend was better than losing you and not having you in his life at all.
And for a while you really were just best friends. But then over time you both seemed to greatly expand your definition of best friends. And after a while you were doing almost everything a couple did except for kissing and having sex and admitting feelings and saying you loved each other. To you and Jack though, it was all just being best friends, all things best friends did. 
The true beginning of that expansion was the first time you spent the night at Jack’s house, about three months after you met. 
Jack is confused when he sees you sitting at the hub eating the other half of the granola bar you’d started and not finished last night. It’s strange because he just assumed you guys would grab breakfast so why would you be eating. “Aren’t you off?” he asks you as he walks up to where you’re sitting.
“I am, but I just got a text from my neighbor that the AC in my apartment building is broken and won’t be fixed until this evening so I’m just gonna hang here.” You shrug. “Maybe work, maybe try to catch some sleep in the on-call room and then head home and pray it’s working.”
It has been disgustingly hot and humid the last week or ten days and being in your AC-less apartment on the fifth floor during the day was simply not happening. You’d rather be at the hospital getting shitty sleep in the on-call room or working. 
“Wasn’t this last shift our sixth straight night on?” Jack asks, with a raise of his brows.
“Indeed it was,” you sigh. “Pretty irritating because I would just like to go sleep. But what can you do? I’m not going home to sleep in this heat.”
“Yeah. No, you’re not.” It’s short, somewhere between disbelief and concern. “You’re not staying here either. Go grab your shit. You can crash at my place.” 
“Really?”
“No, I just said it to be a dick and take back the offer when you agreed.” Jack gives you a pointed really? look. “Yes, really. Now go get your shit before we both end up getting pulled back into something.”
“You don’t have to do that Jack, I’ll be fine. I wouldn’t want to intrude like that.” You shake your head at him a little. 
“I know I don’t have to offer, but you need to get some real sleep. I know you know that. You’ll make yourself sick. And you’re not intruding, you know that too.” Jack tilts his head at you.
“Aw,” you tease him a little, “are you worried about me?”
Jack rolls his eyes at you. You both know he is and that he does worry about you and that you worry about him. That’s what best friends do. “Okay, stay here then.” He shrugs.
“No, no. I’ll take you up on it if you’re still offering,” you say quickly. 
“I am.”
“Okay, let me grab my stuff.” You get up and head to the lockers, grab your things and make your way over to Jack. 
Once you’re out of the Pitt Jack turns to you as you walk towards your guys’ favorite breakfast spot. You haven’t discussed going there but it’s just unspoken at this point. “Why didn’t you just ask? How many times now have I told you you’re welcome at my place whenever? Open door or whatever. It’s not like you’ve never been to my place and don’t know I have a guest room.”
You shrug as he opens the door for you. “It felt like there was a difference between come over whenever and spend the night, or what’s our night, at my place.”
“Well there’s not,” he tells you as you slide into a booth sitting across from each other. “I’m telling you that now.”
Once you finish breakfast the two of you head to Jack’s place. Like Jack said, you’ve been to his place before. 
“You should take my bed,” Jack says once you’re at his place and both of you have set all your stuff down. “The guest bed mattress is really not the greatest. I need to replace it but nobody ever sleeps on it so I just haven’t gotten around to it.”
You’re thrown for a second at the prospect of sleeping in Jack’s bed. Even without him. “It’s alright, I don’t mind. My cheap mattress at home isn’t really the greatest.” 
“No seriously, you’ll probably wake up hurting.” He gives you a firm look. “Just let me take it.” 
“Oh, yes, because if it’s going to hurt the person who sleeps on it, the best idea is surely to give it to the older of the two of us.” You give him a look. 
“Did you just call me old?” Jack says in mock offence. 
“No, I just said you were older than me.” You soften a little. “I can tell your hip and back are hurting after six straight Jack.” You both know you’re right. This shift in particular he could really feel his hip and back compensating as his prosthetic caused him a little more pain than usual. “So just let me take the guest room.”
That makes Jack blush a little and you feel bad. You hadn’t meant to hit a nerve or make him self-conscious. “Hate than you can tell, but alright. You wanna shower before?” 
“If you don’t mind.”
“Wouldn’t have asked if I did. You’re going to have to use mine though. I don’t have any shampoo or whatever in the spare. And I’ll leave you a shirt and some boxers on my bed so you don’t have to get back into your scrubs.” He says it so casually, like he’s totally unaffected by it when he is in fact very, very affected. The thought of you in his clothes has him hardening. And the thought of wearing his clothes makes you feel warm and start to get slick between your thighs. 
You clear your throat. “Thank you.” 
Jack nods, flick his head to tell you to follow him and you do. He steps into his bathroom for a second and then comes back out. “Fresh towel and washcloth on the counter for you. I found a spare toothbrush too. Clothes will be on the bed. Shout if you need anything.”
It’s not until you’re in Jack’s shower squeezing some of his shampoo into your hand that you realize you’re going to smell like him at the end of this. You get even slicker between your legs at the thought and spend the entire shower telling yourself to stop thinking about him as anything other than your best friend. It doesn’t really work. 
And getting dried off and into Jack’s clothes does nothing to help the matter. His black shirt is oversized on you and he said boxers but he really meant boxer briefs which make you feel far closer to him in a way. 
You find Jack sitting on his couch reading. “Hey. Thank you for the shower and clothes.” Jack looks up at you and has to carefully control his reaction. He’s glad you’re far enough away that you don’t see the way his jaw clenches at how unbelievably hot you look in his clothes. It makes him feel possessive in a way he knows he shouldn’t. He’s also glad he’s sitting far enough away that you can’t see the bulge in his pants that starts to grow. 
“Of course.”
“I’m going to try and get some sleep. Wake me whenever you need me to leave.” Jack’s not waking you up. As far as he’s concerned you never need to leave. “And I hope you sleep well.” You give him a shy nod and turn to head back to the guest room. 
“Sleep well,” he calls after you. 
From then on, going to each other’s places after work slowly became a thing. By the end of your intern year it was far more common for you to end up at Jack’s place or him to end up at yours after work. Sometimes you’d spend what was your night at Jack’s, sometimes you wouldn’t. He only spent the night at yours once when you both fell asleep on your couch. You didn’t have a spare room and no way were you making Jack sleep on your couch and you knew he’d never accept your bed with you on the couch.
And then one day about a year and a half after meeting and being best friends both of you were clearly sore from your run of shifts and Jack floated the idea. 
“You wanna just sleep in my bed with me? It’s far more comfortable. And big enough so we don’t have to like… be particularly close or anything.” It takes a lot for him not to tack on ‘unless you want.’
“Oh.” His offer catches you by surprise. It feels like it should mean something, but best friends sleep in the same beds, right? It’s not that big of a deal. “Yeah, sure. That would be nice, thank you.” 
After you both shower you and Jack slide into his bed, staying respectfully at the edge of the side of the bed each of you is on. You wake up much closer, about a foot between you, and both of you have to fight the urge to snuggle into the other and try to use this opportunity to express your real feelings for each other.
After that, sleeping in the same bed became your usual thing. It opened up staying at your place more often after a while when you slowly started sleeping closer together since you had a smaller mattress. And before either of you knew it you had a drawer at Jack’s place and he had a drawer at yours, both of you had your toiletries in the other’s shower and on the other’s bathroom counter. It happened so naturally neither of you truly realized the implication for a while, and when you did you convinced yourselves that it was something best friends did.
You also convinced yourselves that getting ready in the bathroom together at the same time, bumping into each other and being close and Jack sometimes shirtless and you sometimes in just a bra and pants or shorts was something best friends did. And you wearing Jack’s clothes just because you liked to, not because you needed to borrow them, without asking him and wearing his shirt and boxer briefs to bed because they were comfortable was a best friends thing. So was Jack sleeping in just a pair of pajama pants and eventually just his boxer briefs in the same bed as you. Laying in his lap with your head on his chest cuddling or him snuggling up to you after a bad day as you watched a movie together was also just something best friends did. 
And then Jack had a really bad day. 
“Jack,” you say softly, moving your head down to try and get him to look at you as he keeps doing compressions. “We have to let him go.” Both you and Jack are sweaty, as are most of the people in the room with you. You’ve been coding the patient in front of you for two hours now. 
“Not your call to make,” he pants out. But it’s laced with anger and frustration. “You’re an R3 and I’m the attending. It’s not your call to make. So either keep running the code or get out.” It’s pretty close to snarled and makes you grimace. You and everybody in the room know that Jack’s anger and frustration isn’t truly at you. 
Jack knows you’re right but he can’t bring himself to stop. Because it’s unfair. It’s so fucking unfair. 
“Jack. Look at me.” He doesn’t stop compressions but he does lift his eyes to yours after a few seconds. “You know that I’m with you and just as aggressive as you. You know that if I thought for a second there was even the slightest chance of us getting him back I wouldn’t be telling you we have to let him go.” You nod at him, watch his jaw clench. The protective eye glasses he’s wearing might fool others into thinking that’s what’s making his eyes shiny but you know better. “He’s gone, Jack.” 
He just looks at you for another minute as he does compressions before he finally stops, panting hard. You both look up at the monitor. “Asystole,” you say quietly. You try to be quicker than Jack but aren’t and Jack’s the one to confirm with his stethoscope and you shut the monitor off. 
He pulls it away and puts it back on his neck as he speaks and glances at his watch. “Time of death 06:57.”
Jack is silent as he pulls his gloves, trauma gown and glasses off, tossing them in the biohazard bin before walking out. You tell everyone thank you before doing the same as Jack and walking out of the trauma room, head on a swivel as you look for him even though you’re pretty sure you know exactly where he is. It’s all but confirmed for you when you don’t see him in the immediate vicinity. 
It is confirmed when you step out onto the roof. You hate it when he stands on that side of the railing, it always scares the shit out of you because you always worry one day he’s going to do it. And if he was, today would likely be that day. You’re one of three people who work at the hospital other than Jack who knows that when it hit midnight seven hours ago it became the anniversary of the day of his injury. So yeah. With the significance of the day and the fact that you just coded a veteran for two hours, if he was going to do it, today seems like it could be the day. 
“You know you’re not allowed to leave me,” you call to him as you walk closer. Jack doesn’t say anything. “Seriously.” You reach the rail right behind him. “What the fuck am I gonna do if you jump?” 
Jack lets out a heavy sigh. “It’s unfair. It’s a fucking joke. Surviving over there to come back and be taken out by a drunk driver. Just like that.” He snaps his fingers as he says it. “What the fuck is the point? Of any of this anymore?” 
“It is unfair. And it’s pretty fucking cruel of the universe to have this happen ever, but especially to have it happen and put it in front of you today.” You let out a long breath. “And I don’t know what the point is either sometimes, or I lose sight of it. But I think the point is all the ones you can and do save and help, Jack. And if you jump then you can’t save or help anyone else. Civilian, service member or vet. You can’t teach others, pass on what you’ve learned. Every student and resident who comes through here would be worse off.” 
Jack knows you’re right. Some part of him wants to almost be mad at you for the way that you’re right and know what to say. He’s not though. He looks back at you a little to acknowledge he heard you. To tell you that you’re right and he knows it. 
“Will you come here, please, Jack?”
He gives a little shake of his head and lets out a shuddery breath before he turns and ducks under the rail so he’s standing right next to you. You turn into him and give him a hug. Jack returns it tightly and you can feel how hard he swallows. You know the last place he wants to show any further emotion is here so you pull out of the hug. 
“Let’s get out of here.” You grab Jack’s hand and start walking. Jack follows and the two of you only drop hands once someone else gets on the elevator with you. 
You guys manage to get out fairly quickly and unsurprisingly end up at Jack’s place. You take turns showering before crawling into bed together, both exhausted and ready to just pass out. You roll on your sides and look at each other. You know Jack needs to let some emotion out and you consider going to sleep in the guest room so he can be alone but the thought of him being alone today, especially after that code, makes you sad.
“Jack?” you say his name softly. He raises his eyebrows at you. “I know the real question you went up there looking for an answer to. Why were you the one to survive? And I’m not going to pretend to know the answer. I know this might be selfish of me, but I just want you to know that I’m really glad you were the one to survive.”
Jack’s mind spins. He can’t believe you knew that was the question. He can in a way, because it’s you and you always seem to know but part of him still can’t comprehend someone caring for him and knowing him how you do. And he wishes more than anything in the moment that he could kiss you. But he can’t. And he can’t risk losing you. His mind also spins trying to answer the question, why him, why did he survive over there, why does he survive over here? And it spins like it always does on this day, scenes of this day all those years ago playing in the background of his mind constantly.
He shakes his head a little at you, eyes glassy. He really didn’t want to cry. “You can come here, if you want, Jack.” 
Jack nods this time and slides over to you. You pull him close to you and wrap your arms around him as he buries his face in your neck and lets himself cry. You run your hands through his hair for the first time without even realizing it and keep doing it. Scratch at his scalp sometimes, play with the curls at the nape of his neck. You wish you could pull his head from your neck and kiss him, tell him you love him and have him know you mean it as more than just a friend. 
After that it became your guys’ normal. Cuddling together in bed, sleeping tangled up together or you on Jack’s chest or him on yours or with him as the big spoon or you as the big spoon, you running your hands through his hair, something you discovered relaxed him immensely and helped him fall asleep. 
Neither of you really dated over the years, not as such. It was just another thing that made everyone think you were already together or heavily in denial. As an intern and resident you didn’t really have the time, and it just wasn’t how you wanted to spend your free time at that point in your life. Jack theoretically had the time but he just didn’t want to put the effort into it really. He was content with you, even non-romantically. As you were with him. You did want more though, you did want to get married and have kids one day. With someone. You knew it would never be Jack and that if you wanted that you were eventually going to have to get over Jack and go try. You just never really brought yourself to.
Occasionally over the years each of you would pick someone up at a bar or somewhere and have some casual sex. Sometimes it turned into a bit of a friends with benefits situation and you’d see the person more than once. That was all more common for you. Jack wasn’t super into casual sex or friends with benefits. You went on a couple of dates to appease some friends and try to get over Jack. He did the same to try and get over you. Nothing ever went anywhere. 
People of course noticed how close you and Jack were. The way you always seemed to walk in and out of work together. The times you’d come in wearing Jack’s sweatshirt. The reactions you’d both have at times when the other got flirted with, either at work or when everyone went out to a bar or somewhere. 
Both of you were constantly getting asked if you were together, some people just assumed it. You both always laughed and said no, you weren’t, you didn’t know why so many people thought that, you’re just best friends. Bets were placed on when you guys would finally either admit you were together already or realize what literally everyone else could tell, that you were both in love with each other, and finally get together as a couple.
A few people bet on it taking one of you to get worryingly sick or injured or otherwise put in danger for the other to admit their feelings. They were proven wrong one night. 
Your mistake was something you’d done hundreds of times before. Walking out into the ambulance bay by yourself in the middle of the night. It’s how you find yourself being held hostage and walked back into the ED with a knife pressed against your throat. 
Sound seems to go. You’re only vaguely aware of the guy holding you making demands for drugs. Your eyes drag across the floor looking for a single person. One you can’t find. He must be in with a patient. You know he’s the only person who would give you any comfort in this situation but a part of you is almost glad you don’t see him. 
You don’t want him to see this. Especially if this guy ends up using the knife on you. You really don’t want Jack to see that. 
The scream a patient lets out and the general collective gasps he hears are Jack’s initial clues something is wrong. The chilly silence that follows is another clue and he decides to go look, makes his way to the door of the exam room he’s in. He doesn’t know what he expects to see when he steps out but it sure isn’t you with a knife pressed to your throat. And yet that’s what he sees.
Jack’s entire world stops, the vial of medication he was holding falling out of his hand. His eyes find yours immediately. “I’m sorry,” you mouth to him. He shakes his head. Why the fuck are you sorry? is all he can think. 
Jack walks forward holding up his hands. “What do you want?” he asks the guy. 
“Finally somebody with some fucking sense. Demerol. 150. To start. Then I want all the fucking vials of it and morphine you have with a bunch of needles.” The guy laughs, thinks he’s about to make out. 
“And then you’ll let her go?” Jack asks.
“I’ll walk her out with me and then I’ll let her go, yeah.”
“Fine,” Jack nods at him. “I’ll pull your dose now.” The way the guy laughs as Jack walks over to pull some demerol out makes him want to be sick. If something happens to you, anything at all, if you die, Jack swears he’ll die with you. He’d never forgive himself. He’s eerily calm and steady for how fast his heart is racing but he knows he needs to be calm and focused to get you out of this alive and physically uninjured. He knows the mental injuries are already there. 
Jack can’t quite pin down how sophisticated this guy is. The laughter makes Jack think he’s not very. That he doesn’t really know what he’s doing. So Jack tries it, sees if the guy will tell him to show him the vial first and pull it in front of him and make Jack give himself some to prove it’s nothing dangerous first. He takes a vial of etomidate out and pulls a dose, starts walking over to the guy. 
There’s no questioning. No telling Jack to go back and bring it all over and pull it in front of him, no asking Jack if Jack think he’s stupid. Only that fucking laugh that neither you nor Jack will ever forget.
“Need a vein,” Jack tells the guy as he gets close. 
“Back of the hand. The one holding the knife. She can watch,” the guy grunts at Jack and laughs as he tightens his grip on the knife and presses it into your neck hard enough to give you little deeper than a paper cut, but deep enough to draw some blood. 
The sight of your blood makes him want to be sick because, even though it’s only a few drops, you still have a fucking knife against your throat that’s making you bleed. Jack nods at you but doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t want to risk pissing the guy off, not with how tight that knife is against your skin. Jack feels the back of the guys hand for a vein to make sure they’re not all blown. He finds one and so Jack pushes the med and then steps back 
“I’m getting the rest now, okay?” Jack starts walking backwards slowly. It’s the longest onset time of Jack’s entire life but he can see when it starts to hit the guy and he’s already running back towards you as the etomidate renders the guy unconscious. “Etomidate,” Jack shouts at nobody in particular so at least somebody knows what he gave the guy and can deal with him accordingly.
The second the knife drops from your throat you’re stepping forward and Jack is right there to grab you and pull you away from the guy. Jack crushes you to him. “Jack,” you whimper as your hands fist at his scrub top at his chest, his arms wrapping around you and holding you tighter than he ever has before. 
“Fuck,” he breathes out, “fuck, you’re okay.” You’re shaking in Jack’s arms just as much as he’s shaking having you safe and in his as the adrenaline crashes for you both. “Let me see your neck.” 
He tries to pull away but you cling to him and follow him. “It’s fine, it’s fine. Just stay, please.” 
Jack wants to look at your neck for himself but he knows you’re right that it’s okay for now and you clearly need him like this and frankly he needs you like this too. Safe in his arms. 
It makes you feel safe. If you’re in Jack’s arms nothing is going to happen to you. You trust him. You know he’s safe, will keep you safe. “Please stay,” you whisper, voice shaking. “I need you.” 
“I’m not going anywhere,” he promises. “I’ve got you. And I’m not letting you out of my sight.” Jack’s voice is shaky like yours. “I can’t lose you.”
Everyone who heard that line and the way Jack said it had thought it meant you in fact weren’t together but Jack was going to admit his feelings to you and you’d admit yours back and you’d finally be together and holding hands walking in and calling each other pet names. And Jack almost did admit his feelings to you. But then you guys had gotten home and went about your routine and you were so shaken and clingy that he wasn’t able to bring himself to tell you and risk losing you, especially when you needed him so much in the aftermath. So it didn’t happen. 
The calling each other a pet name, however, did. But not in the way anyone expected. To you and Jack the word just became a nickname. One that intensified the confusion about what you and Jack were. 
You’re standing at the hub charting when you overhear Jack finishing discharge instructions with a mom and her five or six year old daughter as he walks them towards the door. You’re finally an R4 about two weeks away from starting the attending position you were offered and accepted. Jack is of course still an attending. Your schedules are almost always identical. It was easy to pull off when most people didn’t want to work nights and the two of you volunteered to. You both knew it would be staying that way once you became an attending.
“Thank you so much, babe!” You watch the mom tell Jack as she hugs him. You bite your lip to stifle your laugh, continuing to watch as Jack remains completely still. “And like we talked about if you ever need anything or get bored, here’s my number,” she giggles as she presses a post-it note to his chest. You’d be more jealous if you thought for a single second Jack might actually be interested, but he is so clearly not you almost feel embarrassed for the woman. The whole thing is so funny you have to quickly log out and walk away to keep from laughing. 
The second the mom is out the door Jack tosses the post-it note with a shake of his head. Jack has always gotten hit on at work. He’s always gotten flirted with everywhere really. He very, very rarely flirts back. But though he may not have put it together, everyone else, yourself included, has noticed that now that he’s truly gone salt and pepper he gets flirted with far more. 
Later that night around 1:30 a.m. the two of you are at the hub charting together. “Can you take the eight year old with a possible broken arm from a bunk bed fall with the new med student, Cooper? I said I would but I don’t think I can handle another mom right now and I would really love to try and get like four bites of literally anything.”
“I suppose for you I can,” you tease him, bumping your hip against his. “I brought us leftovers from last night too. They’re in the fridge.”
“I knew I kept you around for a reason.” You scoff in mock offense as Jack logs off his computer. He looks over at you and waits until you look up at him which doesn’t take long. “Thank you.” He gives you a flash of a smile and then starts to walk toward the breakroom. 
The opportunity is too good to pass up. After he gets a step or two away you call out to him. “Sure thing, babe!” 
Jack stops walking and tilts his head letting out a single huffed laugh as he shakes his head and rolls his eyes before he resumes walking. He can’t keep the small smile off his face though. 
A while later Jack finds you again at the hub, just the two of you. You guys chat for a bit until you get called away. “Oh,” you turn back to Jack, “can you remind me to check if my mascara is dried out when we get home. I’m going to need some for Shen’s wedding.”
Jack smirks at you and you already know what he’s about to say. “Sure thing, babe!” 
The nickname stuck and it pretty much became your and Jack’s exclusive way of referring to each other. You both ached for it to be a real pet name. People assumed that calling each other ‘babe’ constantly would lead to a conversation and so you’d get together within a month or so. Especially because then you’d be an attending. You wouldn’t technically be Jack’s student anymore, you’d be equals. But you still didn’t get together.
And once you became an attending and had been one for six months or so and nothing happened, people stopped placing bets. Because surely if it was going to happen it would have already. 
A year after you became an attending you started to notice it more than you had before. It felt like most of your patients were children with their parents or newlyweds or recently engaged or celebrating their 50th wedding anniversary or pregnant. Marriage and kids were frequently on your mind. But you still couldn’t bring yourself to put yourself out there and try to find someone. 
You talk about it casually with a couple of people at work, that you think you’d like marriage and kids one day, and the interest in you and Jack is renewed and bets start getting placed again. 
And one day, six years after you met, it finally happens.
You and Jack walk into his place after your shift. You unsurprisingly had to stay late so it’s 9 a.m. or so, your guys’ evening. It wasn’t a bad shift in the scope of things, but it wasn’t the easiest shift you’ve ever had either. 
Jack keeps semi blackout curtains in his living room and pulls them closed while you grab a drink for yourself and a beer for Jack from his fridge without even asking if he wants one. You don’t turn any lights on. The curtains dim the room, but you can still easily see each other.
He sits on the opposite end of the couch from you, leaning into the corner of it and putting the thigh of one leg on it as he tilts his body towards you so that you guys can see each other. Manspreading like always. If only he knew how insane it drove you. You hand him his beer and then settle back into the same position, and if only you knew how insane your legs being relatively spread open drove him. 
“I guess at least nobody died,” you mutter before taking a drink. 
Jack nods slowly as he finishes swallowing. “We’ll take the wins where we can.” He tilts his head at you. “Didn’t see much of you tonight.” 
“It was busy. I think we kept hitting our free moments at different times. It’s not like I was ignoring you.” You give him a knowing look, confused about why he’s even commenting on it. It’s something that just happens sometimes. 
He’s commenting because he missed you, quite a lot today for some reason, and especially because he saw you on your phone a decent amount at the beginning of your shift, more than you usually are, and you seemed happy. Of course he wants you to be happy, but he wants to know why. Why you weren’t using that time to come see him and let him make you happy. He’s hoping the explanation isn’t another man. 
“You seemed to be in an awfully good mood at the beginning of your shift.” He tries to keep it light, like it’s just something he noticed and not him trying to probe for information.
“Eh. My college ex boyfriend texted me.” You roll your eyes. “It was random more than anything.”
He swallows hard. Fuck. It was another man. “Oh,” Jack draws the word out, “is that who was making you smile down at your phone until about midnight tonight?” He smirks at you like he isn’t internally seething with jealousy.
You roll your eyes again but this time at Jack. “He sent me the most ridiculous opening line and it was funny, so it made me smile, yes.” 
Jack’s jaw sets and he takes a drink of his beer so that he doesn’t grind his teeth loud enough for you to hear. “You sharing or?”
There’s the faintest hint of snippiness in his tone that makes you narrow your eyes at him slightly. Jack knows all about your college ex, how he decided he didn’t want to move with you for medical school and then again for residency potentially. It broke your heart at the time but things still ended amicably all things considered. You figure the snippiness is related to Jack disliking him.
“He asked if I went into cardiology because, and I quote ‘you are the very beating and pulse of my heart.’” You start laughing as you finish saying it. Jack hardly even laughs, he just rolls his eyes and shakes his head, shifts to sit straighter on the couch so he’s looking at the black TV in front of him and not over at you. “Oh come on,” you nudge his thigh with your foot. “It was funny.”
Jack takes another swig of his beer and pulls his lips down, shrugs slightly. “Worked on you enough that you memorized it.” 
You choke on the sip of your drink you just took, coughing a little. Jack glances over at you for a second just to make sure you’re okay. 
“Worked on me? It didn’t fucking work on me. He sent it to break the ice, babe.” You furrow your brows and shake your head at him, looking at him with a mixture of disbelief and confusion. 
“Well you liked it enough to remember it and keep talking to him.” He already knows you’re going to go see this guy and probably get into a relationship and that’ll pretty much be the end of your best friends relationship as you know it now. 
You scoff at him. “I found it funny enough to remember. There’s a difference.” 
“Okay,” he sings, clearly not believing you and you just shake your head at him. You both take sips of your drinks. Even with Jack’s kind of strange behavior the silence is still comfortable. “So why’d he text you after all this time? It’s been like what? Ten years?”
You shift on the couch and pull your legs up to your chest. “He moved to Pittsburgh. Asked if I’d be interested in seeing him.”
Jack’s head snaps over to you. “You are, aren’t you? You’re going to see him?” 
His gaze is so intense it feels like it’s pinning you in place. “Yeah.” You shrug. You don’t get why this is such a big deal all of the sudden. You need this. You need to move on from Jack. You need to try and have the rest of the life you want, even if it’s not quite how you pictured it. You and Jack would still be best friends and some things might change, but it’s not like everything would change or suddenly you’d just stop hanging out because you got married and had kids.
Jack scoffs at you now. “Why?” There’s a bite behind his tone. He’s not sure if you have a real reason or if it’s just to reconnect. You squirm under his gaze for a second before you have to look away as you give him another shrug. That’s the confirmation he needs. “Bull-fucking-shit, you absolutely have a reason.” You let out a breath and occupy your mouth with another sip of your drink. “Fine. Then look me in the eye and tell me you don’t have a reason.” 
You sigh and look back at him. You swear he almost seems mad with how serious he looks, lips pressed in a line, still staring at you with that same intensity, eyes slightly narrowed. You know you’re going to have to tell him because you can’t lie to him. As in you couldn’t bring yourself to do it and also he would know the second it came out of your mouth. 
“It’s stupid,” you admit, “it’s stupid and I know it and a big part of me doesn’t care. But you’ll think it’s stupid too. Think I’m stupid for even considering it.” 
“Hey.” Jack shifts on the couch so he’s turned towards you again, features softened. “You’re not stupid. I know you far too well to know that if there is one thing in this world that you are definitively not, it’s stupid. If it’s a stupid idea, yeah I will tell you that. ” 
You look down at your hands. You know you’re going to have to tell him eventually. If you end up doing it then it’s going to come out. “When we broke up we made this stupid pact together that we both thought was just a funny joke at the time. We said if we reached the age we are now and weren’t married or in a serious relationship we’d get married and have kids together.” You pause for a second and swallow. “Neither of us are married or in a serious relationship. So you know…”
Jack’s jaw falls open a little as his head lolls forward. Adrenaline floods his body so fast he grows cold in seconds, stomach churning. He can’t lose you. Not like this. If you dated the guy and fell back in love with him that would be one thing. But this? No. And actually, no in general. He can’t lose you. He can’t watch you marry someone else and have someone else’s kids. He knows you really want marriage and kids and he wants that for you, just selfishly only with him. It gets harder to breathe as some actual panic starts to seep into him. 
He lets out an incredulous laugh. “You’re actually fucking considering this?” 
Tears sting at the back of your eyes. You know he’s not laughing at you and you know he’s not truly judging you but his reaction still hurts in a way you didn’t expect it to. All you can do is nod at him. 
Jack laughs again, running a hand through his hair and shaking his head. “Fucking why?”
“Because Jack!” He shrinks back slightly, eyebrows raising at your response and the emotion he thinks he hears in your voice. “Because I want to share my life with someone romantically! Because I want to get married and have a house and have kids! I want that life. And I’m not getting any fucking younger.”
“Oh my fucking god,” Jack scoffs. He’s nearly at a loss for words. “How can you say that? You haven’t even been looking for someone! You don’t date and I know you’ve been asked out plenty of times. And don’t give the excuse of being too busy because we both know that’s not true anymore.” He shakes his head at you and looks pissed. “Do you even fucking love him?” 
You shrug. You have absolutely no justification for why you don’t date other than because you’re in love with Jack. So you don’t even really try to justify anything. “I haven’t been, no, but I’ve still always wanted that stuff and this kind of fell in my lap and so maybe it’s a sign. And as for loving him… yeah. No. Kind of? I don’t know anymore. Would he be my first pick? No. But he’s nice, he treated me well and he’ll be a good dad I think. And maybe now that we’re both grown up there will be more of a spark there.” You knew Jack would think it was a stupid and bad idea but you didn’t know he’d react quite this strongly. In part you’re not sure why he cares so much. He’s your best friend. He should want to see you happy and living the life you want. And this is a way for you to at least be living the life you want and to be happy enough.
“So what, you’re going to fucking settle? Settle for the guy who broke your heart? The guy who couldn’t be fucking asked to move maybe twice for you so that you could do what you dreamed of? The guy who allegedly loved you but not quite enough to make any sacrifices for you?” Jack tilts his head at you. “Babe you deserve so much better. So much fucking better. Don’t do this to yourself. Don’t even consider it further. Please” 
“I think maybe I would be enough for him now. He reached out. Remembered. That has to count for something, right? And I want it Jack.” You shrug at him. You’re a little upset. Not with Jack, just with everything else. With what you don’t have. With the way you struggle about whether you really want marriage and kids without Jack now that you’re really thinking about it. “I want that life and I feel like I’m running out of time and yeah, I haven’t been looking so that’s on me, but still. You can want something and still be okay with not having it. But if the opportunity arose, if it just kind of fell in your lap… you know?”
“I know,” Jack whispers before speaking at a normal level. “I just want you to be with someone who you are enough for. Because you are enough. You are so much fucking more than enough.” Jack nods at you, hoping it will help drive his words home. “He doesn’t deserve you. Any fucking part of you. He doesn’t deserve another second of your time. I know you won’t be happy with him. Not truly. You would be settling and you know it. But you don’t have to settle. You don’t. You still have time. You can still have the life you want, just with someone who really makes you happy. Who you really want to live that life with. You still have time to find that person. Your person. So don’t do this to yourself. Please.”
Your heart aches. You know and love Jack so deeply, he’s the one you trust with every secret and part of you. You wish that you could tell him you already found your person. You already found the man who makes you really, truly happy. You already found the man you want to live your life with. That you’re staring at him.
“Jack, we have to be realistic. When am I going to go find that person? With what time? And where? It’ll take me forever to find someone.” You let out a short breath. “And then after I do find them it’s at minimum a year of dating, an engagement, then a wedding, then wanting time as just a couple before kids. I don’t have that kind of time. I have a couple of years at best.” 
“You’re giving yourself an artificial timeline.” He shakes his head. He’s not getting through to you. “You could still go find them. Or at least do this all, marriage and kids, with someone better.” 
“Who, Jack?” You laugh exasperatedly. “Who the fuck is that? I’d still have to find them. At least I know him. That’s better than jumping into this with a stranger. Who the fuck else do I know that I would do this with?” 
There’s a silence as you and Jack stare at each other. 
And then Jack raises his eyebrows and tilts his head at you quickly, just a one second or two flash. 
It hits you. 
“Jack?” you whisper. You need him to say it. Because there’s no fucking way.
He swallows hard. “Please just don’t do it with him.” 
“Jack.” 
“Me.” He rushes the word out, taking a few heavy breaths. “You could do it with me.” 
You stop breathing for a second as you look at him, expression unreadable in a way that makes him incredibly self-conscious, blush creeping up his neck to his ears and cheeks. You’re stunned. Beyond stunned. While your body is still and you’re silent your mind is running a million miles an hour screaming seventy things at once. There’s no way he means this as a romantic thing. He just has to be volunteering himself because he thinks he’s at least better than your college ex. 
The breath you take in thirty seconds later is still shocked. You lick your lips quickly and open your mouth to say something, but then close it when you can’t think of anything. This happens a couple of times before Jack speaks again. He’s quite sure he knows what your reaction means. That you’re trying to find a way to turn him down nicely. 
“I know I’m not him and I’m sure I have much less to offer than him.” You stare at Jack as he speaks, bring a hand up to cover your mouth. “And I know that I come with baggage and that I’m older and that I’m missing a piece of me, literally, but I just think, no I know I could make you happier than he could.” 
You’re silent for a minute. You process what he says but your brain doesn’t formulate a reply to it because you need to know exactly what Jack means. You move your hand from your mouth and rest it to the side of you. 
Your voice is surprisingly even, just like your body is still. You haven’t given into the trembling you can feel coming yet. “Is that… Would you want that? Or would it just be a pact kind of thing to you?” You’re still not convinced he’s thinking about this the same way you are. You’re convinced he’s just offering to take the place of your ex in the pact, not that he’s in love with you like you are with him.
The way you gloss over what he said hurts. He tries to hold onto some modicum of hope that all of this will get figured out and he won’t lose you but it’s getting hard. 
Jack lets out the saddest laugh you’ve ever heard by anyone ever. “Oh no, I want that. I’ve wanted that for a long time. Wanted you. I’ve been in love with you since that first day. The first day I met you. And I’m sorry if knowing it would be really real for me ruins it and makes me not an option. But even if it’s not me you should still find someone better than him.” He shrugs and looks away from you. 
“Are you being for fucking real?” He nods, still looking down. “No, Jack.” You move down the couch so that you’re sitting right next to each other, you with your legs crossed facing Jack who’s still turned into the couch so that he could see you. “Look at me.” He forces himself to look up at you. “Are you serious right now? Do you mean it? You want me? You’re in love with me? Like more than platonically?” 
Jack’s heart breaks because it’s not the declaration of love he’d hoped you give him in return. 
“Yes.” He nods at you, gives you the eye contact you sought, as intense as always even with his glassy and somewhat defeated looking eyes. “I want you. I’m in love with you. I’m in love with you like I want to marry you, I want you to be my wife and me to be your husband, I want to give you my last name, I want to confuse the fuck out of everyone on night shift with two Dr. Abbots, I want you to be the mother of my kids, I want to get you pregnant, more than once maybe, I want to grow old holding your hand and kissing your lips and making you laugh. I want you. I’m in love with you. I love you. I have always loved you.”
You swallow hard, the trembling finally hitting your entire body. “Why did you never say anything or make a move?” 
Your lack of real response to everything he just admitted confirms it for Jack. You don’t feel the same way. You don’t love him like he does you. There’s not going to be any saving this. 
“Because I knew you’d never reciprocate and if I said anything or made a move it would make things awkward and if it didn’t totally end our friendship it would have at least changed it significantly. And having you in my life like this, as my best friend, like you have been for the past six years was so much better than not having you in my life at all and being tortured seeing you at work.” Jack sniffles a little. “But then you started talking about marriage and kids with this guy and I know you want that life and that if you were even considering this pact you were either going to do it or probably start seriously dating and looking for someone. And so I sat here and realized I’d lose you either way. If I admitted my unrequited love I’d lose you. If you do it with him or go find someone to have that life with we obviously wouldn’t be able to continue how we are and so you’d slowly slip away and I’d lose you. So I figured I might as well throw it out there so that if nothing else you know that you are enough for someone. So much more than enough. And you shouldn’t settle for anyone who thinks differently.” 
You look at Jack for a few seconds and then you laugh. Hard. Because you cannot think of how else to react in the moment and Jack fucking Abbot is in love with you and you’re in love with him and you both have been forever and you’re both fucking idiots. 
The sound is a knife through Jack’s heart. 
You quiet your laughter and smile at Jack. He can’t quite believe it because it would be so out of character for you but Jack assumes you’re about to make fun of him. What else could you do?
“Knew I’d never reciprocate? Unrequited love?” You let out a few giggles this time. “Jack Abbot I have loved you every day for the past six years. I fell in love with you the day we met too. I am in love with you. Romantically. I love you.” You laugh again, a few tears slipping down your face, not from the laughter but the other emotions the laughter is just audibly louder than. “You’re sitting here talking about me going and finding my person and I’m trying not to fucking lose it because I’m sitting here fucking staring at my person so sure you would never reciprocate. You’re the one who makes me happy. The fucking happiest. The happiest I’ve ever been.” You take a breath and look at Jack, laughter leaving you and watery smile pulling up on your face, eyes the brightest Jack has ever seen them even in the relatively low light. “You are the one I want that life with. Marriage and kids. I said he wasn’t my first choice. You know who fucking is? You, Jack. You. It’s always been you. I’ve always loved you, too.” 
“Me?” There’s no fucking way.
“Yeah, Jack. You!” You’re beaming at him.
“You’re being for fucking real now?” He loosely mimics what you asked him earlier. A tentative smile pulls onto his face. He’s still struggling to believe that you love him. “You’re in love with me?”
“Yes. Like, like, I don’t even fucking know,” you pause trying to search for a word but it’s hard with how fucking giddy you are, “I’m soul-consumingly in love with you. Head over heels. All the clichés. I’m in love with you. I love you. I love you too.” 
His smile widens and he rests a hand on your thigh. He has to be sure you understand the reality of him though. Or what he thinks the reality of him is. “But I’m-”
“Oh, don’t even start with the I’m older and missing a piece of myself and have baggage. I’ve got some baggage myself. And I know you fucking know that.” You give him a pointed look though your smile remains. “I don’t care how old you are. And it’s hot quite frankly. I mean you are in general but you being older. The salt and pepper drives me fucking insane. Hardest day of my life was when you got enough gray for me to really notice. I had to go back to my place alone after shift and damn near burned out a vibrator over it, I mean jesus fucking christ, I set a personal record, Jack. Your age is hot. You’re hot. And handsome. Unfairly so.” You grow a little more serious to address the last point Jack had brought up earlier, rest one of your hands over his on your thigh and your other hand on his knee. “And yes. You’re missing a piece of yourself. But that doesn’t matter to me Jack. And I know what you think but it’s not unattractive, it doesn’t make you less desirable. And it certainly doesn’t somehow make you less of a man, Jack.”
His head is spinning. At all of. The whole situation. Him professing his love. You professing yours. The fact that you’re in love with each other. That you both want to get married and have kids. His brain glitched out for a second at almost burned out a vibrator and set a personal record all because you were thinking of him. And the way you read him like a book when all he said was he was he’s missing a piece of himself and reassured him perfectly, textbook example of a reason why he loves you. 
Jack’s eyes search yours as he beams with you now. He laughs, and he understands why you laughed. A few tears slide down his face, just as happy and emotional as you. “We’re fucking idiots.”
You laugh with him and nod. “Total fucking idiots.”
“We could have had all those years together. Why did you never say anything?” Jack asks, his free hand covering your hand on his knee. You’re both still so in shock and processing that kissing each other or continuing this conversation with you straddling him or somehow being closer than you are now hasn’t come to the forefront of either of your minds. 
“Same reason you didn’t. Having you somehow was better than not at all. And I mean, Jack,” you let out a flustered laugh, “you have to know like everyone wants you. You could have anybody you wanted and so I never thought you’d want me.”
“Hey. Listen to me.” Jack grows more serious though a soft smile remains. He shifts so that he can hold your face in his hands. He’s held your face like this before, many times, but not like this. This is different. You know you love each other. And while Jack is still your best friend and will always be your best friend, he’s your partner now. Your lover. Your future husband. Your future children’s father. And the same is true for Jack. You are and will always be his best friend, but you’re his partner now. His lover. His future wife. His future children’s mother. And so Jack’s holding your face like that. Like you’re his, in every sense of the word. “There is not a single human being on this entire fucking planet who I want more than you. Not a single fucking one. And there isn’t one that’s better for me. You’re the only woman I see anymore. You’ve been the only woman I see for a long time. You are the only one I want and the only one for me, Babe.”
You grin at the nickname and how it really is a pet name now, how it suddenly holds even more meaning. And you nod at Jack’s words, relish in how they warm your heart and make you feel so needed and wanted and loved. You know he means them. With his entire being. You bring your hands up and wrap them around Jack’s wrists as he holds your face, thumbs rubbing soft circles on the inside of his wrists. 
“You are the only one I want and the only for me, Babe,” you repeat to him. You bite your lip and giggle again and it goes straight to Jack’s cock. Now that you can say it you can’t help yourself. “And I can’t wait to marry you one day.”
“Oh yeah?” He smirks, confidence back in full force, seductive without even really trying. “You want it to be soon?” Jack tilts his head and leans his head in a little closer. You both know you’re fucking finally about to kiss. 
“Could be tomorrow as far as I’m concerned.” You wink at him. It’s kind of a joke but also not really. You’d marry him tomorrow. “But I do want to wait on kids. I know we’ve been dating in a sense for effectively six years, but I want time for us to really be a couple together. Just the two of us. We have a lot of time to make up for.” You look down at Jack’s lips and tilt your head opposite his, lean in even closer expecting him to close the gap. 
But instead he pulls away, making your face furrow. “Seriously?” Jack asks. 
“To which part?” Your confusion at his question and at his pulling back is clear in your tone.
Jack lets go of your face and you let go of his wrists. He stands, confusing you further until he pulls at the fabric of his scrub pants on one leg and sinks onto one knee. “Jack.” Your breathing picks up and tears hit your eyes. 
“I’m sorry I don’t have a ring right now. But I will buy you whatever you want-”
“I want whatever you pick out, Jack,” you interrupt him. 
He huffs a laugh. He loves you so much. You would interrupt his proposal for that. “Okay. I’m sorry I don’t have a ring right now. But I will pick you out one and we’ll get wedding bands on our way. I want to do life by your side forever. I love you.” Jack takes in a breath. “Will you marry me? Tomorrow?”
You nod as you start laughing. “Yeah. Yes! Of course I’ll marry you, Jack. Tomorrow.” 
You and Jack are beaming at each other again as he starts to laugh with you, standing back up and holding his hands out for you. You take them and uncross your legs, let Jack help pull you up. He pulls you close, so that you’re flush against him. And after six years, you both finally get what you want as you tilt your heads and lean in and kiss each other. 
The first kiss is soft, a lingering expression of love that has the two of you breathless as you focus on feeling each other’s lips and the electricity it seems to send through you. The second kiss is a little more, turns sucking on each other’s bottom lips are taken. The third kiss is where things really escalate and before you know it you and Jack are standing in front of his couch properly making out, tongues in each other’s mouths, Jack’s arms sliding around you to keep you close, one forearm running parallel up your spine and holding the nape of your neck, your hands finding Jack’s hair and running through it, scratching at his scalp and occasionally tugging. 
“We’re going to have to go to a different state though,” you laugh against his lips when you finally break apart for air. 
“Wait, what?” His question is a little breathless from kissing and he pulls away a bit so that you can look at each other properly. 
You nod. “Pennsylvania has a three day waiting period after you apply for a marriage license. It almost fucked up Shen’s wedding.” 
“Fuck,” Jack mutters. He looks off to the side in thought for a moment. You take the moment to admire him, this beautiful beautiful man who’s now yours. Who loves you. You keep running your hands through his hair. It’s not the first time you’ve done it but it’s the first time as his lover, his fiancée. “This is the start of our string of offs, right?”
“Mhm,” you hum, “sure is, Babe.”
Jack looks back at you, right in the eyes as usual. “Tomorrow we fly to Vegas. Elope.” 
You raise your eyebrows and pause, waiting to see if he says more or changes his mind or anything. When he doesn’t you bite your lip and nod. He’s probably not even aware of how loved it makes you feel to know he’s ready to marry you tomorrow. Just like that. But then you being ready to marry him tomorrow makes him feel the same. “Sounds like a plan, Dr. Abbot.” Jack’s pupils dilate even more, his hands sliding down your sides and back to grab your ass. “Get your laptop or my iPad, we can book the plane tickets now.”
Jack doesn’t move. “You know you’re going to be Dr. Abbot in less than 48 hours.” The realization has you taking a shallow breath in and subconsciously pressing yourself against Jack even harder. “And we can book later, in a couple of hours.”
You raise your eyebrows slightly. “Oh? Why the delay?”
He uses his hands that are still gripping your ass to grind your hips and pelvis against him as he does the same with his against you. You let out a soft moan when you feel just how hard he is, swear you can feel him throb against as you grow even wetter for him. “Because I’ve been waiting six years to fuck you and now I can. And I need to. You have no idea how badly I need you. So if it’s okay with you I’m going to take my fiancée to bed now.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I hope it was okay! I love hearing your guys' thoughts and comments, and I appreciate your likes, reblogs and replies so so much!
Although I'm struggling with how I'm feeling about the above, if there was any level of interest I could probably be persuaded to do a smutty part two because I do love some first time together smut and already have some ideas. So let me know if that's something you might like to see!
Thank you again for reading and all your support! ♥️
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You could do it with me.
Jack Abbot x F!Reader - Best friends to lovers!!!!!!!
11.1k || All my content is 18+ MDNI || CW: quickly resolved angst; patient death; coding that veteran for two hours; reference to DUI; suicidal ideation; discussion of Jack's injury; reader wants marriage and kids (I know this is not everyone’s fave or something everyone wants, but I needed it for the storyline so I’m sorry if it's not your thing); reader and Jack are idiots; reference to Shen’s wedding; reference and allusion to sex; allusion to masturbation; reader is briefly held hostage with a knife to her neck and gets a very light cut; mention of drugs generally; mention of demerol; blood; no use of y/n or related
This is for the A Doctor a Day event hosted by @ananonymousaffair, @clubsoft and @letsgobarbs. Thank you for hosting such an awesome event! My prompt was "You are the very beating and pulse of my heart" and my color was black!
Summary: A message from your college ex changes everything.
AN: I love best friends to lovers. I love when they're so god damn blind to each other's romantic love and interest. I love when they do things that are so beyond what best friends (generally) do. Also for the record I do think people of opposite genders can just be platonic best friends. I challenged myself to stay under 10k and lost, but I was really close so I'm taking it. For some reason I really ended up struggling with this and don't really love or even necessarily particularly like how it came out in the end. I'm just very unsure about it. Could not articulate why to save my life. I hope it ended up coming out and reading okay. I really appreciate you taking the time to read and hope you enjoy!
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You met Jack Abbot on the first day of your intern year, night shift.
He was an R4, but with the way he carried himself and practiced and the fact that he was older, you assumed he was your attending. You were both drawn to each other immediately. For both of you it was pretty much love at first sight and interaction. Neither of you could explain why if asked. It just was. By the end of your first twelve hours knowing each other you were in love with each other. 
Not, of course, that either of you told the other that. Because there was no way the other would feel the same. So instead you became best friends, almost instantly. Like after two weeks everyone had noticed how close you were. People hadn’t started assuming you were together at that point but they were assuming it was heading in that direction. 
Your reasons for not telling each other were slightly different then. For you, you were new and an intern to Jack’s R4, were quite sure Jack was not interested in you like that and, even that early on, having him in your life as a best friend was better than losing him and not having him in your life at all. For Jack, he was an R4 and you were an intern, plus he was older than you and missing a foot, he truly believed you weren’t and would never be into him like that and, as it was for you, even that early on, having you in his life as a best friend was better than losing you and not having you in his life at all.
And for a while you really were just best friends. But then over time you both seemed to greatly expand your definition of best friends. And after a while you were doing almost everything a couple did except for kissing and having sex and admitting feelings and saying you loved each other. To you and Jack though, it was all just being best friends, all things best friends did. 
The true beginning of that expansion was the first time you spent the night at Jack’s house, about three months after you met. 
Jack is confused when he sees you sitting at the hub eating the other half of the granola bar you’d started and not finished last night. It’s strange because he just assumed you guys would grab breakfast so why would you be eating. “Aren’t you off?” he asks you as he walks up to where you’re sitting.
“I am, but I just got a text from my neighbor that the AC in my apartment building is broken and won’t be fixed until this evening so I’m just gonna hang here.” You shrug. “Maybe work, maybe try to catch some sleep in the on-call room and then head home and pray it’s working.”
It has been disgustingly hot and humid the last week or ten days and being in your AC-less apartment on the fifth floor during the day was simply not happening. You’d rather be at the hospital getting shitty sleep in the on-call room or working. 
“Wasn’t this last shift our sixth straight night on?” Jack asks, with a raise of his brows.
“Indeed it was,” you sigh. “Pretty irritating because I would just like to go sleep. But what can you do? I’m not going home to sleep in this heat.”
“Yeah. No, you’re not.” It’s short, somewhere between disbelief and concern. “You’re not staying here either. Go grab your shit. You can crash at my place.” 
“Really?”
“No, I just said it to be a dick and take back the offer when you agreed.” Jack gives you a pointed really? look. “Yes, really. Now go get your shit before we both end up getting pulled back into something.”
“You don’t have to do that Jack, I’ll be fine. I wouldn’t want to intrude like that.” You shake your head at him a little. 
“I know I don’t have to offer, but you need to get some real sleep. I know you know that. You’ll make yourself sick. And you’re not intruding, you know that too.” Jack tilts his head at you.
“Aw,” you tease him a little, “are you worried about me?”
Jack rolls his eyes at you. You both know he is and that he does worry about you and that you worry about him. That’s what best friends do. “Okay, stay here then.” He shrugs.
“No, no. I’ll take you up on it if you’re still offering,” you say quickly. 
“I am.”
“Okay, let me grab my stuff.” You get up and head to the lockers, grab your things and make your way over to Jack. 
Once you’re out of the Pitt Jack turns to you as you walk towards your guys’ favorite breakfast spot. You haven’t discussed going there but it’s just unspoken at this point. “Why didn’t you just ask? How many times now have I told you you’re welcome at my place whenever? Open door or whatever. It’s not like you’ve never been to my place and don’t know I have a guest room.”
You shrug as he opens the door for you. “It felt like there was a difference between come over whenever and spend the night, or what’s our night, at my place.”
“Well there’s not,” he tells you as you slide into a booth sitting across from each other. “I’m telling you that now.”
Once you finish breakfast the two of you head to Jack’s place. Like Jack said, you’ve been to his place before. 
“You should take my bed,” Jack says once you’re at his place and both of you have set all your stuff down. “The guest bed mattress is really not the greatest. I need to replace it but nobody ever sleeps on it so I just haven’t gotten around to it.”
You’re thrown for a second at the prospect of sleeping in Jack’s bed. Even without him. “It’s alright, I don’t mind. My cheap mattress at home isn’t really the greatest.” 
“No seriously, you’ll probably wake up hurting.” He gives you a firm look. “Just let me take it.” 
“Oh, yes, because if it’s going to hurt the person who sleeps on it, the best idea is surely to give it to the older of the two of us.” You give him a look. 
“Did you just call me old?” Jack says in mock offence. 
“No, I just said you were older than me.” You soften a little. “I can tell your hip and back are hurting after six straight Jack.” You both know you’re right. This shift in particular he could really feel his hip and back compensating as his prosthetic caused him a little more pain than usual. “So just let me take the guest room.”
That makes Jack blush a little and you feel bad. You hadn’t meant to hit a nerve or make him self-conscious. “Hate than you can tell, but alright. You wanna shower before?” 
“If you don’t mind.”
“Wouldn’t have asked if I did. You’re going to have to use mine though. I don’t have any shampoo or whatever in the spare. And I’ll leave you a shirt and some boxers on my bed so you don’t have to get back into your scrubs.” He says it so casually, like he’s totally unaffected by it when he is in fact very, very affected. The thought of you in his clothes has him hardening. And the thought of wearing his clothes makes you feel warm and start to get slick between your thighs. 
You clear your throat. “Thank you.” 
Jack nods, flick his head to tell you to follow him and you do. He steps into his bathroom for a second and then comes back out. “Fresh towel and washcloth on the counter for you. I found a spare toothbrush too. Clothes will be on the bed. Shout if you need anything.”
It’s not until you’re in Jack’s shower squeezing some of his shampoo into your hand that you realize you’re going to smell like him at the end of this. You get even slicker between your legs at the thought and spend the entire shower telling yourself to stop thinking about him as anything other than your best friend. It doesn’t really work. 
And getting dried off and into Jack’s clothes does nothing to help the matter. His black shirt is oversized on you and he said boxers but he really meant boxer briefs which make you feel far closer to him in a way. 
You find Jack sitting on his couch reading. “Hey. Thank you for the shower and clothes.” Jack looks up at you and has to carefully control his reaction. He’s glad you’re far enough away that you don’t see the way his jaw clenches at how unbelievably hot you look in his clothes. It makes him feel possessive in a way he knows he shouldn’t. He’s also glad he’s sitting far enough away that you can’t see the bulge in his pants that starts to grow. 
“Of course.”
“I’m going to try and get some sleep. Wake me whenever you need me to leave.” Jack’s not waking you up. As far as he’s concerned you never need to leave. “And I hope you sleep well.” You give him a shy nod and turn to head back to the guest room. 
“Sleep well,” he calls after you. 
From then on, going to each other’s places after work slowly became a thing. By the end of your intern year it was far more common for you to end up at Jack’s place or him to end up at yours after work. Sometimes you’d spend what was your night at Jack’s, sometimes you wouldn’t. He only spent the night at yours once when you both fell asleep on your couch. You didn’t have a spare room and no way were you making Jack sleep on your couch and you knew he’d never accept your bed with you on the couch.
And then one day about a year and a half after meeting and being best friends both of you were clearly sore from your run of shifts and Jack floated the idea. 
“You wanna just sleep in my bed with me? It’s far more comfortable. And big enough so we don’t have to like… be particularly close or anything.” It takes a lot for him not to tack on ‘unless you want.’
“Oh.” His offer catches you by surprise. It feels like it should mean something, but best friends sleep in the same beds, right? It’s not that big of a deal. “Yeah, sure. That would be nice, thank you.” 
After you both shower you and Jack slide into his bed, staying respectfully at the edge of the side of the bed each of you is on. You wake up much closer, about a foot between you, and both of you have to fight the urge to snuggle into the other and try to use this opportunity to express your real feelings for each other.
After that, sleeping in the same bed became your usual thing. It opened up staying at your place more often after a while when you slowly started sleeping closer together since you had a smaller mattress. And before either of you knew it you had a drawer at Jack’s place and he had a drawer at yours, both of you had your toiletries in the other’s shower and on the other’s bathroom counter. It happened so naturally neither of you truly realized the implication for a while, and when you did you convinced yourselves that it was something best friends did.
You also convinced yourselves that getting ready in the bathroom together at the same time, bumping into each other and being close and Jack sometimes shirtless and you sometimes in just a bra and pants or shorts was something best friends did. And you wearing Jack’s clothes just because you liked to, not because you needed to borrow them, without asking him and wearing his shirt and boxer briefs to bed because they were comfortable was a best friends thing. So was Jack sleeping in just a pair of pajama pants and eventually just his boxer briefs in the same bed as you. Laying in his lap with your head on his chest cuddling or him snuggling up to you after a bad day as you watched a movie together was also just something best friends did. 
And then Jack had a really bad day. 
“Jack,” you say softly, moving your head down to try and get him to look at you as he keeps doing compressions. “We have to let him go.” Both you and Jack are sweaty, as are most of the people in the room with you. You’ve been coding the patient in front of you for two hours now. 
“Not your call to make,” he pants out. But it’s laced with anger and frustration. “You’re an R3 and I’m the attending. It’s not your call to make. So either keep running the code or get out.” It’s pretty close to snarled and makes you grimace. You and everybody in the room know that Jack’s anger and frustration isn’t truly at you. 
Jack knows you’re right but he can’t bring himself to stop. Because it’s unfair. It’s so fucking unfair. 
“Jack. Look at me.” He doesn’t stop compressions but he does lift his eyes to yours after a few seconds. “You know that I’m with you and just as aggressive as you. You know that if I thought for a second there was even the slightest chance of us getting him back I wouldn’t be telling you we have to let him go.” You nod at him, watch his jaw clench. The protective eye glasses he’s wearing might fool others into thinking that’s what’s making his eyes shiny but you know better. “He’s gone, Jack.” 
He just looks at you for another minute as he does compressions before he finally stops, panting hard. You both look up at the monitor. “Asystole,” you say quietly. You try to be quicker than Jack but aren’t and Jack’s the one to confirm with his stethoscope and you shut the monitor off. 
He pulls it away and puts it back on his neck as he speaks and glances at his watch. “Time of death 06:57.”
Jack is silent as he pulls his gloves, trauma gown and glasses off, tossing them in the biohazard bin before walking out. You tell everyone thank you before doing the same as Jack and walking out of the trauma room, head on a swivel as you look for him even though you’re pretty sure you know exactly where he is. It’s all but confirmed for you when you don’t see him in the immediate vicinity. 
It is confirmed when you step out onto the roof. You hate it when he stands on that side of the railing, it always scares the shit out of you because you always worry one day he’s going to do it. And if he was, today would likely be that day. You’re one of three people who work at the hospital other than Jack who knows that when it hit midnight seven hours ago it became the anniversary of the day of his injury. So yeah. With the significance of the day and the fact that you just coded a veteran for two hours, if he was going to do it, today seems like it could be the day. 
“You know you’re not allowed to leave me,” you call to him as you walk closer. Jack doesn’t say anything. “Seriously.” You reach the rail right behind him. “What the fuck am I gonna do if you jump?” 
Jack lets out a heavy sigh. “It’s unfair. It’s a fucking joke. Surviving over there to come back and be taken out by a drunk driver. Just like that.” He snaps his fingers as he says it. “What the fuck is the point? Of any of this anymore?” 
“It is unfair. And it’s pretty fucking cruel of the universe to have this happen ever, but especially to have it happen and put it in front of you today.” You let out a long breath. “And I don’t know what the point is either sometimes, or I lose sight of it. But I think the point is all the ones you can and do save and help, Jack. And if you jump then you can’t save or help anyone else. Civilian, service member or vet. You can’t teach others, pass on what you’ve learned. Every student and resident who comes through here would be worse off.” 
Jack knows you’re right. Some part of him wants to almost be mad at you for the way that you’re right and know what to say. He’s not though. He looks back at you a little to acknowledge he heard you. To tell you that you’re right and he knows it. 
“Will you come here, please, Jack?”
He gives a little shake of his head and lets out a shuddery breath before he turns and ducks under the rail so he’s standing right next to you. You turn into him and give him a hug. Jack returns it tightly and you can feel how hard he swallows. You know the last place he wants to show any further emotion is here so you pull out of the hug. 
“Let’s get out of here.” You grab Jack’s hand and start walking. Jack follows and the two of you only drop hands once someone else gets on the elevator with you. 
You guys manage to get out fairly quickly and unsurprisingly end up at Jack’s place. You take turns showering before crawling into bed together, both exhausted and ready to just pass out. You roll on your sides and look at each other. You know Jack needs to let some emotion out and you consider going to sleep in the guest room so he can be alone but the thought of him being alone today, especially after that code, makes you sad.
“Jack?” you say his name softly. He raises his eyebrows at you. “I know the real question you went up there looking for an answer to. Why were you the one to survive? And I’m not going to pretend to know the answer. I know this might be selfish of me, but I just want you to know that I’m really glad you were the one to survive.”
Jack’s mind spins. He can’t believe you knew that was the question. He can in a way, because it’s you and you always seem to know but part of him still can’t comprehend someone caring for him and knowing him how you do. And he wishes more than anything in the moment that he could kiss you. But he can’t. And he can’t risk losing you. His mind also spins trying to answer the question, why him, why did he survive over there, why does he survive over here? And it spins like it always does on this day, scenes of this day all those years ago playing in the background of his mind constantly.
He shakes his head a little at you, eyes glassy. He really didn’t want to cry. “You can come here, if you want, Jack.” 
Jack nods this time and slides over to you. You pull him close to you and wrap your arms around him as he buries his face in your neck and lets himself cry. You run your hands through his hair for the first time without even realizing it and keep doing it. Scratch at his scalp sometimes, play with the curls at the nape of his neck. You wish you could pull his head from your neck and kiss him, tell him you love him and have him know you mean it as more than just a friend. 
After that it became your guys’ normal. Cuddling together in bed, sleeping tangled up together or you on Jack’s chest or him on yours or with him as the big spoon or you as the big spoon, you running your hands through his hair, something you discovered relaxed him immensely and helped him fall asleep. 
Neither of you really dated over the years, not as such. It was just another thing that made everyone think you were already together or heavily in denial. As an intern and resident you didn’t really have the time, and it just wasn’t how you wanted to spend your free time at that point in your life. Jack theoretically had the time but he just didn’t want to put the effort into it really. He was content with you, even non-romantically. As you were with him. You did want more though, you did want to get married and have kids one day. With someone. You knew it would never be Jack and that if you wanted that you were eventually going to have to get over Jack and go try. You just never really brought yourself to.
Occasionally over the years each of you would pick someone up at a bar or somewhere and have some casual sex. Sometimes it turned into a bit of a friends with benefits situation and you’d see the person more than once. That was all more common for you. Jack wasn’t super into casual sex or friends with benefits. You went on a couple of dates to appease some friends and try to get over Jack. He did the same to try and get over you. Nothing ever went anywhere. 
People of course noticed how close you and Jack were. The way you always seemed to walk in and out of work together. The times you’d come in wearing Jack’s sweatshirt. The reactions you’d both have at times when the other got flirted with, either at work or when everyone went out to a bar or somewhere. 
Both of you were constantly getting asked if you were together, some people just assumed it. You both always laughed and said no, you weren’t, you didn’t know why so many people thought that, you’re just best friends. Bets were placed on when you guys would finally either admit you were together already or realize what literally everyone else could tell, that you were both in love with each other, and finally get together as a couple.
A few people bet on it taking one of you to get worryingly sick or injured or otherwise put in danger for the other to admit their feelings. They were proven wrong one night. 
Your mistake was something you’d done hundreds of times before. Walking out into the ambulance bay by yourself in the middle of the night. It’s how you find yourself being held hostage and walked back into the ED with a knife pressed against your throat. 
Sound seems to go. You’re only vaguely aware of the guy holding you making demands for drugs. Your eyes drag across the floor looking for a single person. One you can’t find. He must be in with a patient. You know he’s the only person who would give you any comfort in this situation but a part of you is almost glad you don’t see him. 
You don’t want him to see this. Especially if this guy ends up using the knife on you. You really don’t want Jack to see that. 
The scream a patient lets out and the general collective gasps he hears are Jack’s initial clues something is wrong. The chilly silence that follows is another clue and he decides to go look, makes his way to the door of the exam room he’s in. He doesn’t know what he expects to see when he steps out but it sure isn’t you with a knife pressed to your throat. And yet that’s what he sees.
Jack’s entire world stops, the vial of medication he was holding falling out of his hand. His eyes find yours immediately. “I’m sorry,” you mouth to him. He shakes his head. Why the fuck are you sorry? is all he can think. 
Jack walks forward holding up his hands. “What do you want?” he asks the guy. 
“Finally somebody with some fucking sense. Demerol. 150. To start. Then I want all the fucking vials of it and morphine you have with a bunch of needles.” The guy laughs, thinks he’s about to make out. 
“And then you’ll let her go?” Jack asks.
“I’ll walk her out with me and then I’ll let her go, yeah.”
“Fine,” Jack nods at him. “I’ll pull your dose now.” The way the guy laughs as Jack walks over to pull some demerol out makes him want to be sick. If something happens to you, anything at all, if you die, Jack swears he’ll die with you. He’d never forgive himself. He’s eerily calm and steady for how fast his heart is racing but he knows he needs to be calm and focused to get you out of this alive and physically uninjured. He knows the mental injuries are already there. 
Jack can’t quite pin down how sophisticated this guy is. The laughter makes Jack think he’s not very. That he doesn’t really know what he’s doing. So Jack tries it, sees if the guy will tell him to show him the vial first and pull it in front of him and make Jack give himself some to prove it’s nothing dangerous first. He takes a vial of etomidate out and pulls a dose, starts walking over to the guy. 
There’s no questioning. No telling Jack to go back and bring it all over and pull it in front of him, no asking Jack if Jack think he’s stupid. Only that fucking laugh that neither you nor Jack will ever forget.
“Need a vein,” Jack tells the guy as he gets close. 
“Back of the hand. The one holding the knife. She can watch,” the guy grunts at Jack and laughs as he tightens his grip on the knife and presses it into your neck hard enough to give you little deeper than a paper cut, but deep enough to draw some blood. 
The sight of your blood makes him want to be sick because, even though it’s only a few drops, you still have a fucking knife against your throat that’s making you bleed. Jack nods at you but doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t want to risk pissing the guy off, not with how tight that knife is against your skin. Jack feels the back of the guys hand for a vein to make sure they’re not all blown. He finds one and so Jack pushes the med and then steps back 
“I’m getting the rest now, okay?” Jack starts walking backwards slowly. It’s the longest onset time of Jack’s entire life but he can see when it starts to hit the guy and he’s already running back towards you as the etomidate renders the guy unconscious. “Etomidate,” Jack shouts at nobody in particular so at least somebody knows what he gave the guy and can deal with him accordingly.
The second the knife drops from your throat you’re stepping forward and Jack is right there to grab you and pull you away from the guy. Jack crushes you to him. “Jack,” you whimper as your hands fist at his scrub top at his chest, his arms wrapping around you and holding you tighter than he ever has before. 
“Fuck,” he breathes out, “fuck, you’re okay.” You’re shaking in Jack’s arms just as much as he’s shaking having you safe and in his as the adrenaline crashes for you both. “Let me see your neck.” 
He tries to pull away but you cling to him and follow him. “It’s fine, it’s fine. Just stay, please.” 
Jack wants to look at your neck for himself but he knows you’re right that it’s okay for now and you clearly need him like this and frankly he needs you like this too. Safe in his arms. 
It makes you feel safe. If you’re in Jack’s arms nothing is going to happen to you. You trust him. You know he’s safe, will keep you safe. “Please stay,” you whisper, voice shaking. “I need you.” 
“I’m not going anywhere,” he promises. “I’ve got you. And I’m not letting you out of my sight.” Jack’s voice is shaky like yours. “I can’t lose you.”
Everyone who heard that line and the way Jack said it had thought it meant you in fact weren’t together but Jack was going to admit his feelings to you and you’d admit yours back and you’d finally be together and holding hands walking in and calling each other pet names. And Jack almost did admit his feelings to you. But then you guys had gotten home and went about your routine and you were so shaken and clingy that he wasn’t able to bring himself to tell you and risk losing you, especially when you needed him so much in the aftermath. So it didn’t happen. 
The calling each other a pet name, however, did. But not in the way anyone expected. To you and Jack the word just became a nickname. One that intensified the confusion about what you and Jack were. 
You’re standing at the hub charting when you overhear Jack finishing discharge instructions with a mom and her five or six year old daughter as he walks them towards the door. You’re finally an R4 about two weeks away from starting the attending position you were offered and accepted. Jack is of course still an attending. Your schedules are almost always identical. It was easy to pull off when most people didn’t want to work nights and the two of you volunteered to. You both knew it would be staying that way once you became an attending.
“Thank you so much, babe!” You watch the mom tell Jack as she hugs him. You bite your lip to stifle your laugh, continuing to watch as Jack remains completely still. “And like we talked about if you ever need anything or get bored, here’s my number,” she giggles as she presses a post-it note to his chest. You’d be more jealous if you thought for a single second Jack might actually be interested, but he is so clearly not you almost feel embarrassed for the woman. The whole thing is so funny you have to quickly log out and walk away to keep from laughing. 
The second the mom is out the door Jack tosses the post-it note with a shake of his head. Jack has always gotten hit on at work. He’s always gotten flirted with everywhere really. He very, very rarely flirts back. But though he may not have put it together, everyone else, yourself included, has noticed that now that he’s truly gone salt and pepper he gets flirted with far more. 
Later that night around 1:30 a.m. the two of you are at the hub charting together. “Can you take the eight year old with a possible broken arm from a bunk bed fall with the new med student, Cooper? I said I would but I don’t think I can handle another mom right now and I would really love to try and get like four bites of literally anything.”
“I suppose for you I can,” you tease him, bumping your hip against his. “I brought us leftovers from last night too. They’re in the fridge.”
“I knew I kept you around for a reason.” You scoff in mock offense as Jack logs off his computer. He looks over at you and waits until you look up at him which doesn’t take long. “Thank you.” He gives you a flash of a smile and then starts to walk toward the breakroom. 
The opportunity is too good to pass up. After he gets a step or two away you call out to him. “Sure thing, babe!” 
Jack stops walking and tilts his head letting out a single huffed laugh as he shakes his head and rolls his eyes before he resumes walking. He can’t keep the small smile off his face though. 
A while later Jack finds you again at the hub, just the two of you. You guys chat for a bit until you get called away. “Oh,” you turn back to Jack, “can you remind me to check if my mascara is dried out when we get home. I’m going to need some for Shen’s wedding.”
Jack smirks at you and you already know what he’s about to say. “Sure thing, babe!” 
The nickname stuck and it pretty much became your and Jack’s exclusive way of referring to each other. You both ached for it to be a real pet name. People assumed that calling each other ‘babe’ constantly would lead to a conversation and so you’d get together within a month or so. Especially because then you’d be an attending. You wouldn’t technically be Jack’s student anymore, you’d be equals. But you still didn’t get together.
And once you became an attending and had been one for six months or so and nothing happened, people stopped placing bets. Because surely if it was going to happen it would have already. 
A year after you became an attending you started to notice it more than you had before. It felt like most of your patients were children with their parents or newlyweds or recently engaged or celebrating their 50th wedding anniversary or pregnant. Marriage and kids were frequently on your mind. But you still couldn’t bring yourself to put yourself out there and try to find someone. 
You talk about it casually with a couple of people at work, that you think you’d like marriage and kids one day, and the interest in you and Jack is renewed and bets start getting placed again. 
And one day, six years after you met, it finally happens.
You and Jack walk into his place after your shift. You unsurprisingly had to stay late so it’s 9 a.m. or so, your guys’ evening. It wasn’t a bad shift in the scope of things, but it wasn’t the easiest shift you’ve ever had either. 
Jack keeps semi blackout curtains in his living room and pulls them closed while you grab a drink for yourself and a beer for Jack from his fridge without even asking if he wants one. You don’t turn any lights on. The curtains dim the room, but you can still easily see each other.
He sits on the opposite end of the couch from you, leaning into the corner of it and putting the thigh of one leg on it as he tilts his body towards you so that you guys can see each other. Manspreading like always. If only he knew how insane it drove you. You hand him his beer and then settle back into the same position, and if only you knew how insane your legs being relatively spread open drove him. 
“I guess at least nobody died,” you mutter before taking a drink. 
Jack nods slowly as he finishes swallowing. “We’ll take the wins where we can.” He tilts his head at you. “Didn’t see much of you tonight.” 
“It was busy. I think we kept hitting our free moments at different times. It’s not like I was ignoring you.” You give him a knowing look, confused about why he’s even commenting on it. It’s something that just happens sometimes. 
He’s commenting because he missed you, quite a lot today for some reason, and especially because he saw you on your phone a decent amount at the beginning of your shift, more than you usually are, and you seemed happy. Of course he wants you to be happy, but he wants to know why. Why you weren’t using that time to come see him and let him make you happy. He’s hoping the explanation isn’t another man. 
“You seemed to be in an awfully good mood at the beginning of your shift.” He tries to keep it light, like it’s just something he noticed and not him trying to probe for information.
“Eh. My college ex boyfriend texted me.” You roll your eyes. “It was random more than anything.”
He swallows hard. Fuck. It was another man. “Oh,” Jack draws the word out, “is that who was making you smile down at your phone until about midnight tonight?” He smirks at you like he isn’t internally seething with jealousy.
You roll your eyes again but this time at Jack. “He sent me the most ridiculous opening line and it was funny, so it made me smile, yes.” 
Jack’s jaw sets and he takes a drink of his beer so that he doesn’t grind his teeth loud enough for you to hear. “You sharing or?”
There’s the faintest hint of snippiness in his tone that makes you narrow your eyes at him slightly. Jack knows all about your college ex, how he decided he didn’t want to move with you for medical school and then again for residency potentially. It broke your heart at the time but things still ended amicably all things considered. You figure the snippiness is related to Jack disliking him.
“He asked if I went into cardiology because, and I quote ‘you are the very beating and pulse of my heart.’” You start laughing as you finish saying it. Jack hardly even laughs, he just rolls his eyes and shakes his head, shifts to sit straighter on the couch so he’s looking at the black TV in front of him and not over at you. “Oh come on,” you nudge his thigh with your foot. “It was funny.”
Jack takes another swig of his beer and pulls his lips down, shrugs slightly. “Worked on you enough that you memorized it.” 
You choke on the sip of your drink you just took, coughing a little. Jack glances over at you for a second just to make sure you’re okay. 
“Worked on me? It didn’t fucking work on me. He sent it to break the ice, babe.” You furrow your brows and shake your head at him, looking at him with a mixture of disbelief and confusion. 
“Well you liked it enough to remember it and keep talking to him.” He already knows you’re going to go see this guy and probably get into a relationship and that’ll pretty much be the end of your best friends relationship as you know it now. 
You scoff at him. “I found it funny enough to remember. There’s a difference.” 
“Okay,” he sings, clearly not believing you and you just shake your head at him. You both take sips of your drinks. Even with Jack’s kind of strange behavior the silence is still comfortable. “So why’d he text you after all this time? It’s been like what? Ten years?”
You shift on the couch and pull your legs up to your chest. “He moved to Pittsburgh. Asked if I’d be interested in seeing him.”
Jack’s head snaps over to you. “You are, aren’t you? You’re going to see him?” 
His gaze is so intense it feels like it’s pinning you in place. “Yeah.” You shrug. You don’t get why this is such a big deal all of the sudden. You need this. You need to move on from Jack. You need to try and have the rest of the life you want, even if it’s not quite how you pictured it. You and Jack would still be best friends and some things might change, but it’s not like everything would change or suddenly you’d just stop hanging out because you got married and had kids.
Jack scoffs at you now. “Why?” There’s a bite behind his tone. He’s not sure if you have a real reason or if it’s just to reconnect. You squirm under his gaze for a second before you have to look away as you give him another shrug. That’s the confirmation he needs. “Bull-fucking-shit, you absolutely have a reason.” You let out a breath and occupy your mouth with another sip of your drink. “Fine. Then look me in the eye and tell me you don’t have a reason.” 
You sigh and look back at him. You swear he almost seems mad with how serious he looks, lips pressed in a line, still staring at you with that same intensity, eyes slightly narrowed. You know you’re going to have to tell him because you can’t lie to him. As in you couldn’t bring yourself to do it and also he would know the second it came out of your mouth. 
“It’s stupid,” you admit, “it’s stupid and I know it and a big part of me doesn’t care. But you’ll think it’s stupid too. Think I’m stupid for even considering it.” 
“Hey.” Jack shifts on the couch so he’s turned towards you again, features softened. “You’re not stupid. I know you far too well to know that if there is one thing in this world that you are definitively not, it’s stupid. If it’s a stupid idea, yeah I will tell you that. ” 
You look down at your hands. You know you’re going to have to tell him eventually. If you end up doing it then it’s going to come out. “When we broke up we made this stupid pact together that we both thought was just a funny joke at the time. We said if we reached the age we are now and weren’t married or in a serious relationship we’d get married and have kids together.” You pause for a second and swallow. “Neither of us are married or in a serious relationship. So you know…”
Jack’s jaw falls open a little as his head lolls forward. Adrenaline floods his body so fast he grows cold in seconds, stomach churning. He can’t lose you. Not like this. If you dated the guy and fell back in love with him that would be one thing. But this? No. And actually, no in general. He can’t lose you. He can’t watch you marry someone else and have someone else’s kids. He knows you really want marriage and kids and he wants that for you, just selfishly only with him. It gets harder to breathe as some actual panic starts to seep into him. 
He lets out an incredulous laugh. “You’re actually fucking considering this?” 
Tears sting at the back of your eyes. You know he’s not laughing at you and you know he’s not truly judging you but his reaction still hurts in a way you didn’t expect it to. All you can do is nod at him. 
Jack laughs again, running a hand through his hair and shaking his head. “Fucking why?”
“Because Jack!” He shrinks back slightly, eyebrows raising at your response and the emotion he thinks he hears in your voice. “Because I want to share my life with someone romantically! Because I want to get married and have a house and have kids! I want that life. And I’m not getting any fucking younger.”
“Oh my fucking god,” Jack scoffs. He’s nearly at a loss for words. “How can you say that? You haven’t even been looking for someone! You don’t date and I know you’ve been asked out plenty of times. And don’t give the excuse of being too busy because we both know that’s not true anymore.” He shakes his head at you and looks pissed. “Do you even fucking love him?” 
You shrug. You have absolutely no justification for why you don’t date other than because you’re in love with Jack. So you don’t even really try to justify anything. “I haven’t been, no, but I’ve still always wanted that stuff and this kind of fell in my lap and so maybe it’s a sign. And as for loving him… yeah. No. Kind of? I don’t know anymore. Would he be my first pick? No. But he’s nice, he treated me well and he’ll be a good dad I think. And maybe now that we’re both grown up there will be more of a spark there.” You knew Jack would think it was a stupid and bad idea but you didn’t know he’d react quite this strongly. In part you’re not sure why he cares so much. He’s your best friend. He should want to see you happy and living the life you want. And this is a way for you to at least be living the life you want and to be happy enough.
“So what, you’re going to fucking settle? Settle for the guy who broke your heart? The guy who couldn’t be fucking asked to move maybe twice for you so that you could do what you dreamed of? The guy who allegedly loved you but not quite enough to make any sacrifices for you?” Jack tilts his head at you. “Babe you deserve so much better. So much fucking better. Don’t do this to yourself. Don’t even consider it further. Please” 
“I think maybe I would be enough for him now. He reached out. Remembered. That has to count for something, right? And I want it Jack.” You shrug at him. You’re a little upset. Not with Jack, just with everything else. With what you don’t have. With the way you struggle about whether you really want marriage and kids without Jack now that you’re really thinking about it. “I want that life and I feel like I’m running out of time and yeah, I haven’t been looking so that’s on me, but still. You can want something and still be okay with not having it. But if the opportunity arose, if it just kind of fell in your lap… you know?”
“I know,” Jack whispers before speaking at a normal level. “I just want you to be with someone who you are enough for. Because you are enough. You are so much fucking more than enough.” Jack nods at you, hoping it will help drive his words home. “He doesn’t deserve you. Any fucking part of you. He doesn’t deserve another second of your time. I know you won’t be happy with him. Not truly. You would be settling and you know it. But you don’t have to settle. You don’t. You still have time. You can still have the life you want, just with someone who really makes you happy. Who you really want to live that life with. You still have time to find that person. Your person. So don’t do this to yourself. Please.”
Your heart aches. You know and love Jack so deeply, he’s the one you trust with every secret and part of you. You wish that you could tell him you already found your person. You already found the man who makes you really, truly happy. You already found the man you want to live your life with. That you’re staring at him.
“Jack, we have to be realistic. When am I going to go find that person? With what time? And where? It’ll take me forever to find someone.” You let out a short breath. “And then after I do find them it’s at minimum a year of dating, an engagement, then a wedding, then wanting time as just a couple before kids. I don’t have that kind of time. I have a couple of years at best.” 
“You’re giving yourself an artificial timeline.” He shakes his head. He’s not getting through to you. “You could still go find them. Or at least do this all, marriage and kids, with someone better.” 
“Who, Jack?” You laugh exasperatedly. “Who the fuck is that? I’d still have to find them. At least I know him. That’s better than jumping into this with a stranger. Who the fuck else do I know that I would do this with?” 
There’s a silence as you and Jack stare at each other. 
And then Jack raises his eyebrows and tilts his head at you quickly, just a one second or two flash. 
It hits you. 
“Jack?” you whisper. You need him to say it. Because there’s no fucking way.
He swallows hard. “Please just don’t do it with him.” 
“Jack.” 
“Me.” He rushes the word out, taking a few heavy breaths. “You could do it with me.” 
You stop breathing for a second as you look at him, expression unreadable in a way that makes him incredibly self-conscious, blush creeping up his neck to his ears and cheeks. You’re stunned. Beyond stunned. While your body is still and you’re silent your mind is running a million miles an hour screaming seventy things at once. There’s no way he means this as a romantic thing. He just has to be volunteering himself because he thinks he’s at least better than your college ex. 
The breath you take in thirty seconds later is still shocked. You lick your lips quickly and open your mouth to say something, but then close it when you can’t think of anything. This happens a couple of times before Jack speaks again. He’s quite sure he knows what your reaction means. That you’re trying to find a way to turn him down nicely. 
“I know I’m not him and I’m sure I have much less to offer than him.” You stare at Jack as he speaks, bring a hand up to cover your mouth. “And I know that I come with baggage and that I’m older and that I’m missing a piece of me, literally, but I just think, no I know I could make you happier than he could.” 
You’re silent for a minute. You process what he says but your brain doesn’t formulate a reply to it because you need to know exactly what Jack means. You move your hand from your mouth and rest it to the side of you. 
Your voice is surprisingly even, just like your body is still. You haven’t given into the trembling you can feel coming yet. “Is that… Would you want that? Or would it just be a pact kind of thing to you?” You’re still not convinced he’s thinking about this the same way you are. You’re convinced he’s just offering to take the place of your ex in the pact, not that he’s in love with you like you are with him.
The way you gloss over what he said hurts. He tries to hold onto some modicum of hope that all of this will get figured out and he won’t lose you but it’s getting hard. 
Jack lets out the saddest laugh you’ve ever heard by anyone ever. “Oh no, I want that. I’ve wanted that for a long time. Wanted you. I’ve been in love with you since that first day. The first day I met you. And I’m sorry if knowing it would be really real for me ruins it and makes me not an option. But even if it’s not me you should still find someone better than him.” He shrugs and looks away from you. 
“Are you being for fucking real?” He nods, still looking down. “No, Jack.” You move down the couch so that you’re sitting right next to each other, you with your legs crossed facing Jack who’s still turned into the couch so that he could see you. “Look at me.” He forces himself to look up at you. “Are you serious right now? Do you mean it? You want me? You’re in love with me? Like more than platonically?” 
Jack’s heart breaks because it’s not the declaration of love he’d hoped you give him in return. 
“Yes.” He nods at you, gives you the eye contact you sought, as intense as always even with his glassy and somewhat defeated looking eyes. “I want you. I’m in love with you. I’m in love with you like I want to marry you, I want you to be my wife and me to be your husband, I want to give you my last name, I want to confuse the fuck out of everyone on night shift with two Dr. Abbots, I want you to be the mother of my kids, I want to get you pregnant, more than once maybe, I want to grow old holding your hand and kissing your lips and making you laugh. I want you. I’m in love with you. I love you. I have always loved you.”
You swallow hard, the trembling finally hitting your entire body. “Why did you never say anything or make a move?” 
Your lack of real response to everything he just admitted confirms it for Jack. You don’t feel the same way. You don’t love him like he does you. There’s not going to be any saving this. 
“Because I knew you’d never reciprocate and if I said anything or made a move it would make things awkward and if it didn’t totally end our friendship it would have at least changed it significantly. And having you in my life like this, as my best friend, like you have been for the past six years was so much better than not having you in my life at all and being tortured seeing you at work.” Jack sniffles a little. “But then you started talking about marriage and kids with this guy and I know you want that life and that if you were even considering this pact you were either going to do it or probably start seriously dating and looking for someone. And so I sat here and realized I’d lose you either way. If I admitted my unrequited love I’d lose you. If you do it with him or go find someone to have that life with we obviously wouldn’t be able to continue how we are and so you’d slowly slip away and I’d lose you. So I figured I might as well throw it out there so that if nothing else you know that you are enough for someone. So much more than enough. And you shouldn’t settle for anyone who thinks differently.” 
You look at Jack for a few seconds and then you laugh. Hard. Because you cannot think of how else to react in the moment and Jack fucking Abbot is in love with you and you’re in love with him and you both have been forever and you’re both fucking idiots. 
The sound is a knife through Jack’s heart. 
You quiet your laughter and smile at Jack. He can’t quite believe it because it would be so out of character for you but Jack assumes you’re about to make fun of him. What else could you do?
“Knew I’d never reciprocate? Unrequited love?” You let out a few giggles this time. “Jack Abbot I have loved you every day for the past six years. I fell in love with you the day we met too. I am in love with you. Romantically. I love you.” You laugh again, a few tears slipping down your face, not from the laughter but the other emotions the laughter is just audibly louder than. “You’re sitting here talking about me going and finding my person and I’m trying not to fucking lose it because I’m sitting here fucking staring at my person so sure you would never reciprocate. You’re the one who makes me happy. The fucking happiest. The happiest I’ve ever been.” You take a breath and look at Jack, laughter leaving you and watery smile pulling up on your face, eyes the brightest Jack has ever seen them even in the relatively low light. “You are the one I want that life with. Marriage and kids. I said he wasn’t my first choice. You know who fucking is? You, Jack. You. It’s always been you. I’ve always loved you, too.” 
“Me?” There’s no fucking way.
“Yeah, Jack. You!” You’re beaming at him.
“You’re being for fucking real now?” He loosely mimics what you asked him earlier. A tentative smile pulls onto his face. He’s still struggling to believe that you love him. “You’re in love with me?”
“Yes. Like, like, I don’t even fucking know,” you pause trying to search for a word but it’s hard with how fucking giddy you are, “I’m soul-consumingly in love with you. Head over heels. All the clichés. I’m in love with you. I love you. I love you too.” 
His smile widens and he rests a hand on your thigh. He has to be sure you understand the reality of him though. Or what he thinks the reality of him is. “But I’m-”
“Oh, don’t even start with the I’m older and missing a piece of myself and have baggage. I’ve got some baggage myself. And I know you fucking know that.” You give him a pointed look though your smile remains. “I don’t care how old you are. And it’s hot quite frankly. I mean you are in general but you being older. The salt and pepper drives me fucking insane. Hardest day of my life was when you got enough gray for me to really notice. I had to go back to my place alone after shift and damn near burned out a vibrator over it, I mean jesus fucking christ, I set a personal record, Jack. Your age is hot. You’re hot. And handsome. Unfairly so.” You grow a little more serious to address the last point Jack had brought up earlier, rest one of your hands over his on your thigh and your other hand on his knee. “And yes. You’re missing a piece of yourself. But that doesn’t matter to me Jack. And I know what you think but it’s not unattractive, it doesn’t make you less desirable. And it certainly doesn’t somehow make you less of a man, Jack.”
His head is spinning. At all of. The whole situation. Him professing his love. You professing yours. The fact that you’re in love with each other. That you both want to get married and have kids. His brain glitched out for a second at almost burned out a vibrator and set a personal record all because you were thinking of him. And the way you read him like a book when all he said was he was he’s missing a piece of himself and reassured him perfectly, textbook example of a reason why he loves you. 
Jack’s eyes search yours as he beams with you now. He laughs, and he understands why you laughed. A few tears slide down his face, just as happy and emotional as you. “We’re fucking idiots.”
You laugh with him and nod. “Total fucking idiots.”
“We could have had all those years together. Why did you never say anything?” Jack asks, his free hand covering your hand on his knee. You’re both still so in shock and processing that kissing each other or continuing this conversation with you straddling him or somehow being closer than you are now hasn’t come to the forefront of either of your minds. 
“Same reason you didn’t. Having you somehow was better than not at all. And I mean, Jack,” you let out a flustered laugh, “you have to know like everyone wants you. You could have anybody you wanted and so I never thought you’d want me.”
“Hey. Listen to me.” Jack grows more serious though a soft smile remains. He shifts so that he can hold your face in his hands. He’s held your face like this before, many times, but not like this. This is different. You know you love each other. And while Jack is still your best friend and will always be your best friend, he’s your partner now. Your lover. Your future husband. Your future children’s father. And the same is true for Jack. You are and will always be his best friend, but you’re his partner now. His lover. His future wife. His future children’s mother. And so Jack’s holding your face like that. Like you’re his, in every sense of the word. “There is not a single human being on this entire fucking planet who I want more than you. Not a single fucking one. And there isn’t one that’s better for me. You’re the only woman I see anymore. You’ve been the only woman I see for a long time. You are the only one I want and the only one for me, Babe.”
You grin at the nickname and how it really is a pet name now, how it suddenly holds even more meaning. And you nod at Jack’s words, relish in how they warm your heart and make you feel so needed and wanted and loved. You know he means them. With his entire being. You bring your hands up and wrap them around Jack’s wrists as he holds your face, thumbs rubbing soft circles on the inside of his wrists. 
“You are the only one I want and the only for me, Babe,” you repeat to him. You bite your lip and giggle again and it goes straight to Jack’s cock. Now that you can say it you can’t help yourself. “And I can’t wait to marry you one day.”
“Oh yeah?” He smirks, confidence back in full force, seductive without even really trying. “You want it to be soon?” Jack tilts his head and leans his head in a little closer. You both know you’re fucking finally about to kiss. 
“Could be tomorrow as far as I’m concerned.” You wink at him. It’s kind of a joke but also not really. You’d marry him tomorrow. “But I do want to wait on kids. I know we’ve been dating in a sense for effectively six years, but I want time for us to really be a couple together. Just the two of us. We have a lot of time to make up for.” You look down at Jack’s lips and tilt your head opposite his, lean in even closer expecting him to close the gap. 
But instead he pulls away, making your face furrow. “Seriously?” Jack asks. 
“To which part?” Your confusion at his question and at his pulling back is clear in your tone.
Jack lets go of your face and you let go of his wrists. He stands, confusing you further until he pulls at the fabric of his scrub pants on one leg and sinks onto one knee. “Jack.” Your breathing picks up and tears hit your eyes. 
“I’m sorry I don’t have a ring right now. But I will buy you whatever you want-”
“I want whatever you pick out, Jack,” you interrupt him. 
He huffs a laugh. He loves you so much. You would interrupt his proposal for that. “Okay. I’m sorry I don’t have a ring right now. But I will pick you out one and we’ll get wedding bands on our way. I want to do life by your side forever. I love you.” Jack takes in a breath. “Will you marry me? Tomorrow?”
You nod as you start laughing. “Yeah. Yes! Of course I’ll marry you, Jack. Tomorrow.” 
You and Jack are beaming at each other again as he starts to laugh with you, standing back up and holding his hands out for you. You take them and uncross your legs, let Jack help pull you up. He pulls you close, so that you’re flush against him. And after six years, you both finally get what you want as you tilt your heads and lean in and kiss each other. 
The first kiss is soft, a lingering expression of love that has the two of you breathless as you focus on feeling each other’s lips and the electricity it seems to send through you. The second kiss is a little more, turns sucking on each other’s bottom lips are taken. The third kiss is where things really escalate and before you know it you and Jack are standing in front of his couch properly making out, tongues in each other’s mouths, Jack’s arms sliding around you to keep you close, one forearm running parallel up your spine and holding the nape of your neck, your hands finding Jack’s hair and running through it, scratching at his scalp and occasionally tugging. 
“We’re going to have to go to a different state though,” you laugh against his lips when you finally break apart for air. 
“Wait, what?” His question is a little breathless from kissing and he pulls away a bit so that you can look at each other properly. 
You nod. “Pennsylvania has a three day waiting period after you apply for a marriage license. It almost fucked up Shen’s wedding.” 
“Fuck,” Jack mutters. He looks off to the side in thought for a moment. You take the moment to admire him, this beautiful beautiful man who’s now yours. Who loves you. You keep running your hands through his hair. It’s not the first time you’ve done it but it’s the first time as his lover, his fiancée. “This is the start of our string of offs, right?”
“Mhm,” you hum, “sure is, Babe.”
Jack looks back at you, right in the eyes as usual. “Tomorrow we fly to Vegas. Elope.” 
You raise your eyebrows and pause, waiting to see if he says more or changes his mind or anything. When he doesn’t you bite your lip and nod. He’s probably not even aware of how loved it makes you feel to know he’s ready to marry you tomorrow. Just like that. But then you being ready to marry him tomorrow makes him feel the same. “Sounds like a plan, Dr. Abbot.” Jack’s pupils dilate even more, his hands sliding down your sides and back to grab your ass. “Get your laptop or my iPad, we can book the plane tickets now.”
Jack doesn’t move. “You know you’re going to be Dr. Abbot in less than 48 hours.” The realization has you taking a shallow breath in and subconsciously pressing yourself against Jack even harder. “And we can book later, in a couple of hours.”
You raise your eyebrows slightly. “Oh? Why the delay?”
He uses his hands that are still gripping your ass to grind your hips and pelvis against him as he does the same with his against you. You let out a soft moan when you feel just how hard he is, swear you can feel him throb against as you grow even wetter for him. “Because I’ve been waiting six years to fuck you and now I can. And I need to. You have no idea how badly I need you. So if it’s okay with you I’m going to take my fiancée to bed now.”
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I hope it was okay! I love hearing your guys' thoughts and comments, and I appreciate your likes, reblogs and replies so so much!
Although I'm struggling with how I'm feeling about the above, if there was any level of interest I could probably be persuaded to do a smutty part two because I do love some first time together smut and already have some ideas. So let me know if that's something you might like to see!
Thank you again for reading and all your support! ♥️
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butyoudidthis4what · 2 days ago
Text
You could do it with me.
Jack Abbot x F!Reader - Best friends to lovers!!!!!!!
11.1k || All my content is 18+ MDNI || CW: quickly resolved angst; patient death; coding that veteran for two hours; reference to DUI; suicidal ideation; discussion of Jack's injury; reader wants marriage and kids (I know this is not everyone’s fave or something everyone wants, but I needed it for the storyline so I’m sorry if it's not your thing); reader and Jack are idiots; reference to Shen’s wedding; reference and allusion to sex; allusion to masturbation; reader is briefly held hostage with a knife to her neck and gets a very light cut; mention of drugs generally; mention of demerol; blood; no use of y/n or related
This is for the A Doctor a Day event hosted by @ananonymousaffair, @clubsoft and @letsgobarbs. Thank you for hosting such an awesome event! My prompt was "You are the very beating and pulse of my heart" and my color was black!
Summary: A message from your college ex changes everything.
AN: I love best friends to lovers. I love when they're so god damn blind to each other's romantic love and interest. I love when they do things that are so beyond what best friends (generally) do. Also for the record I do think people of opposite genders can just be platonic best friends. I challenged myself to stay under 10k and lost, but I was really close so I'm taking it. For some reason I really ended up struggling with this and don't really love or even necessarily particularly like how it came out in the end. I'm just very unsure about it. Could not articulate why to save my life. I hope it ended up coming out and reading okay. I really appreciate you taking the time to read and hope you enjoy!
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You met Jack Abbot on the first day of your intern year, night shift.
He was an R4, but with the way he carried himself and practiced and the fact that he was older, you assumed he was your attending. You were both drawn to each other immediately. For both of you it was pretty much love at first sight and interaction. Neither of you could explain why if asked. It just was. By the end of your first twelve hours knowing each other you were in love with each other. 
Not, of course, that either of you told the other that. Because there was no way the other would feel the same. So instead you became best friends, almost instantly. Like after two weeks everyone had noticed how close you were. People hadn’t started assuming you were together at that point but they were assuming it was heading in that direction. 
Your reasons for not telling each other were slightly different then. For you, you were new and an intern to Jack’s R4, were quite sure Jack was not interested in you like that and, even that early on, having him in your life as a best friend was better than losing him and not having him in your life at all. For Jack, he was an R4 and you were an intern, plus he was older than you and missing a foot, he truly believed you weren’t and would never be into him like that and, as it was for you, even that early on, having you in his life as a best friend was better than losing you and not having you in his life at all.
And for a while you really were just best friends. But then over time you both seemed to greatly expand your definition of best friends. And after a while you were doing almost everything a couple did except for kissing and having sex and admitting feelings and saying you loved each other. To you and Jack though, it was all just being best friends, all things best friends did. 
The true beginning of that expansion was the first time you spent the night at Jack’s house, about three months after you met. 
Jack is confused when he sees you sitting at the hub eating the other half of the granola bar you’d started and not finished last night. It’s strange because he just assumed you guys would grab breakfast so why would you be eating. “Aren’t you off?” he asks you as he walks up to where you’re sitting.
“I am, but I just got a text from my neighbor that the AC in my apartment building is broken and won’t be fixed until this evening so I’m just gonna hang here.” You shrug. “Maybe work, maybe try to catch some sleep in the on-call room and then head home and pray it’s working.”
It has been disgustingly hot and humid the last week or ten days and being in your AC-less apartment on the fifth floor during the day was simply not happening. You’d rather be at the hospital getting shitty sleep in the on-call room or working. 
“Wasn’t this last shift our sixth straight night on?” Jack asks, with a raise of his brows.
“Indeed it was,” you sigh. “Pretty irritating because I would just like to go sleep. But what can you do? I’m not going home to sleep in this heat.”
“Yeah. No, you’re not.” It’s short, somewhere between disbelief and concern. “You’re not staying here either. Go grab your shit. You can crash at my place.” 
“Really?”
“No, I just said it to be a dick and take back the offer when you agreed.” Jack gives you a pointed really? look. “Yes, really. Now go get your shit before we both end up getting pulled back into something.”
“You don’t have to do that Jack, I’ll be fine. I wouldn’t want to intrude like that.” You shake your head at him a little. 
“I know I don’t have to offer, but you need to get some real sleep. I know you know that. You’ll make yourself sick. And you’re not intruding, you know that too.” Jack tilts his head at you.
“Aw,” you tease him a little, “are you worried about me?”
Jack rolls his eyes at you. You both know he is and that he does worry about you and that you worry about him. That’s what best friends do. “Okay, stay here then.” He shrugs.
“No, no. I’ll take you up on it if you’re still offering,” you say quickly. 
“I am.”
“Okay, let me grab my stuff.” You get up and head to the lockers, grab your things and make your way over to Jack. 
Once you’re out of the Pitt Jack turns to you as you walk towards your guys’ favorite breakfast spot. You haven’t discussed going there but it’s just unspoken at this point. “Why didn’t you just ask? How many times now have I told you you’re welcome at my place whenever? Open door or whatever. It’s not like you’ve never been to my place and don’t know I have a guest room.”
You shrug as he opens the door for you. “It felt like there was a difference between come over whenever and spend the night, or what’s our night, at my place.”
“Well there’s not,” he tells you as you slide into a booth sitting across from each other. “I’m telling you that now.”
Once you finish breakfast the two of you head to Jack’s place. Like Jack said, you’ve been to his place before. 
“You should take my bed,” Jack says once you’re at his place and both of you have set all your stuff down. “The guest bed mattress is really not the greatest. I need to replace it but nobody ever sleeps on it so I just haven’t gotten around to it.”
You’re thrown for a second at the prospect of sleeping in Jack’s bed. Even without him. “It’s alright, I don’t mind. My cheap mattress at home isn’t really the greatest.” 
“No seriously, you’ll probably wake up hurting.” He gives you a firm look. “Just let me take it.” 
“Oh, yes, because if it’s going to hurt the person who sleeps on it, the best idea is surely to give it to the older of the two of us.” You give him a look. 
“Did you just call me old?” Jack says in mock offence. 
“No, I just said you were older than me.” You soften a little. “I can tell your hip and back are hurting after six straight Jack.” You both know you’re right. This shift in particular he could really feel his hip and back compensating as his prosthetic caused him a little more pain than usual. “So just let me take the guest room.”
That makes Jack blush a little and you feel bad. You hadn’t meant to hit a nerve or make him self-conscious. “Hate than you can tell, but alright. You wanna shower before?” 
“If you don’t mind.”
“Wouldn’t have asked if I did. You’re going to have to use mine though. I don’t have any shampoo or whatever in the spare. And I’ll leave you a shirt and some boxers on my bed so you don’t have to get back into your scrubs.” He says it so casually, like he’s totally unaffected by it when he is in fact very, very affected. The thought of you in his clothes has him hardening. And the thought of wearing his clothes makes you feel warm and start to get slick between your thighs. 
You clear your throat. “Thank you.” 
Jack nods, flick his head to tell you to follow him and you do. He steps into his bathroom for a second and then comes back out. “Fresh towel and washcloth on the counter for you. I found a spare toothbrush too. Clothes will be on the bed. Shout if you need anything.”
It’s not until you’re in Jack’s shower squeezing some of his shampoo into your hand that you realize you’re going to smell like him at the end of this. You get even slicker between your legs at the thought and spend the entire shower telling yourself to stop thinking about him as anything other than your best friend. It doesn’t really work. 
And getting dried off and into Jack’s clothes does nothing to help the matter. His black shirt is oversized on you and he said boxers but he really meant boxer briefs which make you feel far closer to him in a way. 
You find Jack sitting on his couch reading. “Hey. Thank you for the shower and clothes.” Jack looks up at you and has to carefully control his reaction. He’s glad you’re far enough away that you don’t see the way his jaw clenches at how unbelievably hot you look in his clothes. It makes him feel possessive in a way he knows he shouldn’t. He’s also glad he’s sitting far enough away that you can’t see the bulge in his pants that starts to grow. 
“Of course.”
“I’m going to try and get some sleep. Wake me whenever you need me to leave.” Jack’s not waking you up. As far as he’s concerned you never need to leave. “And I hope you sleep well.” You give him a shy nod and turn to head back to the guest room. 
“Sleep well,” he calls after you. 
From then on, going to each other’s places after work slowly became a thing. By the end of your intern year it was far more common for you to end up at Jack’s place or him to end up at yours after work. Sometimes you’d spend what was your night at Jack’s, sometimes you wouldn’t. He only spent the night at yours once when you both fell asleep on your couch. You didn’t have a spare room and no way were you making Jack sleep on your couch and you knew he’d never accept your bed with you on the couch.
And then one day about a year and a half after meeting and being best friends both of you were clearly sore from your run of shifts and Jack floated the idea. 
“You wanna just sleep in my bed with me? It’s far more comfortable. And big enough so we don’t have to like… be particularly close or anything.” It takes a lot for him not to tack on ‘unless you want.’
“Oh.” His offer catches you by surprise. It feels like it should mean something, but best friends sleep in the same beds, right? It’s not that big of a deal. “Yeah, sure. That would be nice, thank you.” 
After you both shower you and Jack slide into his bed, staying respectfully at the edge of the side of the bed each of you is on. You wake up much closer, about a foot between you, and both of you have to fight the urge to snuggle into the other and try to use this opportunity to express your real feelings for each other.
After that, sleeping in the same bed became your usual thing. It opened up staying at your place more often after a while when you slowly started sleeping closer together since you had a smaller mattress. And before either of you knew it you had a drawer at Jack’s place and he had a drawer at yours, both of you had your toiletries in the other’s shower and on the other’s bathroom counter. It happened so naturally neither of you truly realized the implication for a while, and when you did you convinced yourselves that it was something best friends did.
You also convinced yourselves that getting ready in the bathroom together at the same time, bumping into each other and being close and Jack sometimes shirtless and you sometimes in just a bra and pants or shorts was something best friends did. And you wearing Jack’s clothes just because you liked to, not because you needed to borrow them, without asking him and wearing his shirt and boxer briefs to bed because they were comfortable was a best friends thing. So was Jack sleeping in just a pair of pajama pants and eventually just his boxer briefs in the same bed as you. Laying in his lap with your head on his chest cuddling or him snuggling up to you after a bad day as you watched a movie together was also just something best friends did. 
And then Jack had a really bad day. 
“Jack,” you say softly, moving your head down to try and get him to look at you as he keeps doing compressions. “We have to let him go.” Both you and Jack are sweaty, as are most of the people in the room with you. You’ve been coding the patient in front of you for two hours now. 
“Not your call to make,” he pants out. But it’s laced with anger and frustration. “You’re an R3 and I’m the attending. It’s not your call to make. So either keep running the code or get out.” It’s pretty close to snarled and makes you grimace. You and everybody in the room know that Jack’s anger and frustration isn’t truly at you. 
Jack knows you’re right but he can’t bring himself to stop. Because it’s unfair. It’s so fucking unfair. 
“Jack. Look at me.” He doesn’t stop compressions but he does lift his eyes to yours after a few seconds. “You know that I’m with you and just as aggressive as you. You know that if I thought for a second there was even the slightest chance of us getting him back I wouldn’t be telling you we have to let him go.” You nod at him, watch his jaw clench. The protective eye glasses he’s wearing might fool others into thinking that’s what’s making his eyes shiny but you know better. “He’s gone, Jack.” 
He just looks at you for another minute as he does compressions before he finally stops, panting hard. You both look up at the monitor. “Asystole,” you say quietly. You try to be quicker than Jack but aren’t and Jack’s the one to confirm with his stethoscope and you shut the monitor off. 
He pulls it away and puts it back on his neck as he speaks and glances at his watch. “Time of death 06:57.”
Jack is silent as he pulls his gloves, trauma gown and glasses off, tossing them in the biohazard bin before walking out. You tell everyone thank you before doing the same as Jack and walking out of the trauma room, head on a swivel as you look for him even though you’re pretty sure you know exactly where he is. It’s all but confirmed for you when you don’t see him in the immediate vicinity. 
It is confirmed when you step out onto the roof. You hate it when he stands on that side of the railing, it always scares the shit out of you because you always worry one day he’s going to do it. And if he was, today would likely be that day. You’re one of three people who work at the hospital other than Jack who knows that when it hit midnight seven hours ago it became the anniversary of the day of his injury. So yeah. With the significance of the day and the fact that you just coded a veteran for two hours, if he was going to do it, today seems like it could be the day. 
“You know you’re not allowed to leave me,” you call to him as you walk closer. Jack doesn’t say anything. “Seriously.” You reach the rail right behind him. “What the fuck am I gonna do if you jump?” 
Jack lets out a heavy sigh. “It’s unfair. It’s a fucking joke. Surviving over there to come back and be taken out by a drunk driver. Just like that.” He snaps his fingers as he says it. “What the fuck is the point? Of any of this anymore?” 
“It is unfair. And it’s pretty fucking cruel of the universe to have this happen ever, but especially to have it happen and put it in front of you today.” You let out a long breath. “And I don’t know what the point is either sometimes, or I lose sight of it. But I think the point is all the ones you can and do save and help, Jack. And if you jump then you can’t save or help anyone else. Civilian, service member or vet. You can’t teach others, pass on what you’ve learned. Every student and resident who comes through here would be worse off.” 
Jack knows you’re right. Some part of him wants to almost be mad at you for the way that you’re right and know what to say. He’s not though. He looks back at you a little to acknowledge he heard you. To tell you that you’re right and he knows it. 
“Will you come here, please, Jack?”
He gives a little shake of his head and lets out a shuddery breath before he turns and ducks under the rail so he’s standing right next to you. You turn into him and give him a hug. Jack returns it tightly and you can feel how hard he swallows. You know the last place he wants to show any further emotion is here so you pull out of the hug. 
“Let’s get out of here.” You grab Jack’s hand and start walking. Jack follows and the two of you only drop hands once someone else gets on the elevator with you. 
You guys manage to get out fairly quickly and unsurprisingly end up at Jack’s place. You take turns showering before crawling into bed together, both exhausted and ready to just pass out. You roll on your sides and look at each other. You know Jack needs to let some emotion out and you consider going to sleep in the guest room so he can be alone but the thought of him being alone today, especially after that code, makes you sad.
“Jack?” you say his name softly. He raises his eyebrows at you. “I know the real question you went up there looking for an answer to. Why were you the one to survive? And I’m not going to pretend to know the answer. I know this might be selfish of me, but I just want you to know that I’m really glad you were the one to survive.”
Jack’s mind spins. He can’t believe you knew that was the question. He can in a way, because it’s you and you always seem to know but part of him still can’t comprehend someone caring for him and knowing him how you do. And he wishes more than anything in the moment that he could kiss you. But he can’t. And he can’t risk losing you. His mind also spins trying to answer the question, why him, why did he survive over there, why does he survive over here? And it spins like it always does on this day, scenes of this day all those years ago playing in the background of his mind constantly.
He shakes his head a little at you, eyes glassy. He really didn’t want to cry. “You can come here, if you want, Jack.” 
Jack nods this time and slides over to you. You pull him close to you and wrap your arms around him as he buries his face in your neck and lets himself cry. You run your hands through his hair for the first time without even realizing it and keep doing it. Scratch at his scalp sometimes, play with the curls at the nape of his neck. You wish you could pull his head from your neck and kiss him, tell him you love him and have him know you mean it as more than just a friend. 
After that it became your guys’ normal. Cuddling together in bed, sleeping tangled up together or you on Jack’s chest or him on yours or with him as the big spoon or you as the big spoon, you running your hands through his hair, something you discovered relaxed him immensely and helped him fall asleep. 
Neither of you really dated over the years, not as such. It was just another thing that made everyone think you were already together or heavily in denial. As an intern and resident you didn’t really have the time, and it just wasn’t how you wanted to spend your free time at that point in your life. Jack theoretically had the time but he just didn’t want to put the effort into it really. He was content with you, even non-romantically. As you were with him. You did want more though, you did want to get married and have kids one day. With someone. You knew it would never be Jack and that if you wanted that you were eventually going to have to get over Jack and go try. You just never really brought yourself to.
Occasionally over the years each of you would pick someone up at a bar or somewhere and have some casual sex. Sometimes it turned into a bit of a friends with benefits situation and you’d see the person more than once. That was all more common for you. Jack wasn’t super into casual sex or friends with benefits. You went on a couple of dates to appease some friends and try to get over Jack. He did the same to try and get over you. Nothing ever went anywhere. 
People of course noticed how close you and Jack were. The way you always seemed to walk in and out of work together. The times you’d come in wearing Jack’s sweatshirt. The reactions you’d both have at times when the other got flirted with, either at work or when everyone went out to a bar or somewhere. 
Both of you were constantly getting asked if you were together, some people just assumed it. You both always laughed and said no, you weren’t, you didn’t know why so many people thought that, you’re just best friends. Bets were placed on when you guys would finally either admit you were together already or realize what literally everyone else could tell, that you were both in love with each other, and finally get together as a couple.
A few people bet on it taking one of you to get worryingly sick or injured or otherwise put in danger for the other to admit their feelings. They were proven wrong one night. 
Your mistake was something you’d done hundreds of times before. Walking out into the ambulance bay by yourself in the middle of the night. It’s how you find yourself being held hostage and walked back into the ED with a knife pressed against your throat. 
Sound seems to go. You’re only vaguely aware of the guy holding you making demands for drugs. Your eyes drag across the floor looking for a single person. One you can’t find. He must be in with a patient. You know he’s the only person who would give you any comfort in this situation but a part of you is almost glad you don’t see him. 
You don’t want him to see this. Especially if this guy ends up using the knife on you. You really don’t want Jack to see that. 
The scream a patient lets out and the general collective gasps he hears are Jack’s initial clues something is wrong. The chilly silence that follows is another clue and he decides to go look, makes his way to the door of the exam room he’s in. He doesn’t know what he expects to see when he steps out but it sure isn’t you with a knife pressed to your throat. And yet that’s what he sees.
Jack’s entire world stops, the vial of medication he was holding falling out of his hand. His eyes find yours immediately. “I’m sorry,” you mouth to him. He shakes his head. Why the fuck are you sorry? is all he can think. 
Jack walks forward holding up his hands. “What do you want?” he asks the guy. 
“Finally somebody with some fucking sense. Demerol. 150. To start. Then I want all the fucking vials of it and morphine you have with a bunch of needles.” The guy laughs, thinks he’s about to make out. 
“And then you’ll let her go?” Jack asks.
“I’ll walk her out with me and then I’ll let her go, yeah.”
“Fine,” Jack nods at him. “I’ll pull your dose now.” The way the guy laughs as Jack walks over to pull some demerol out makes him want to be sick. If something happens to you, anything at all, if you die, Jack swears he’ll die with you. He’d never forgive himself. He’s eerily calm and steady for how fast his heart is racing but he knows he needs to be calm and focused to get you out of this alive and physically uninjured. He knows the mental injuries are already there. 
Jack can’t quite pin down how sophisticated this guy is. The laughter makes Jack think he’s not very. That he doesn’t really know what he’s doing. So Jack tries it, sees if the guy will tell him to show him the vial first and pull it in front of him and make Jack give himself some to prove it’s nothing dangerous first. He takes a vial of etomidate out and pulls a dose, starts walking over to the guy. 
There’s no questioning. No telling Jack to go back and bring it all over and pull it in front of him, no asking Jack if Jack think he’s stupid. Only that fucking laugh that neither you nor Jack will ever forget.
“Need a vein,” Jack tells the guy as he gets close. 
“Back of the hand. The one holding the knife. She can watch,” the guy grunts at Jack and laughs as he tightens his grip on the knife and presses it into your neck hard enough to give you little deeper than a paper cut, but deep enough to draw some blood. 
The sight of your blood makes him want to be sick because, even though it’s only a few drops, you still have a fucking knife against your throat that’s making you bleed. Jack nods at you but doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t want to risk pissing the guy off, not with how tight that knife is against your skin. Jack feels the back of the guys hand for a vein to make sure they’re not all blown. He finds one and so Jack pushes the med and then steps back 
“I’m getting the rest now, okay?” Jack starts walking backwards slowly. It’s the longest onset time of Jack’s entire life but he can see when it starts to hit the guy and he’s already running back towards you as the etomidate renders the guy unconscious. “Etomidate,” Jack shouts at nobody in particular so at least somebody knows what he gave the guy and can deal with him accordingly.
The second the knife drops from your throat you’re stepping forward and Jack is right there to grab you and pull you away from the guy. Jack crushes you to him. “Jack,” you whimper as your hands fist at his scrub top at his chest, his arms wrapping around you and holding you tighter than he ever has before. 
“Fuck,” he breathes out, “fuck, you’re okay.” You’re shaking in Jack’s arms just as much as he’s shaking having you safe and in his as the adrenaline crashes for you both. “Let me see your neck.” 
He tries to pull away but you cling to him and follow him. “It’s fine, it’s fine. Just stay, please.” 
Jack wants to look at your neck for himself but he knows you’re right that it’s okay for now and you clearly need him like this and frankly he needs you like this too. Safe in his arms. 
It makes you feel safe. If you’re in Jack’s arms nothing is going to happen to you. You trust him. You know he’s safe, will keep you safe. “Please stay,” you whisper, voice shaking. “I need you.” 
“I’m not going anywhere,” he promises. “I’ve got you. And I’m not letting you out of my sight.” Jack’s voice is shaky like yours. “I can’t lose you.”
Everyone who heard that line and the way Jack said it had thought it meant you in fact weren’t together but Jack was going to admit his feelings to you and you’d admit yours back and you’d finally be together and holding hands walking in and calling each other pet names. And Jack almost did admit his feelings to you. But then you guys had gotten home and went about your routine and you were so shaken and clingy that he wasn’t able to bring himself to tell you and risk losing you, especially when you needed him so much in the aftermath. So it didn’t happen. 
The calling each other a pet name, however, did. But not in the way anyone expected. To you and Jack the word just became a nickname. One that intensified the confusion about what you and Jack were. 
You’re standing at the hub charting when you overhear Jack finishing discharge instructions with a mom and her five or six year old daughter as he walks them towards the door. You’re finally an R4 about two weeks away from starting the attending position you were offered and accepted. Jack is of course still an attending. Your schedules are almost always identical. It was easy to pull off when most people didn’t want to work nights and the two of you volunteered to. You both knew it would be staying that way once you became an attending.
“Thank you so much, babe!” You watch the mom tell Jack as she hugs him. You bite your lip to stifle your laugh, continuing to watch as Jack remains completely still. “And like we talked about if you ever need anything or get bored, here’s my number,” she giggles as she presses a post-it note to his chest. You’d be more jealous if you thought for a single second Jack might actually be interested, but he is so clearly not you almost feel embarrassed for the woman. The whole thing is so funny you have to quickly log out and walk away to keep from laughing. 
The second the mom is out the door Jack tosses the post-it note with a shake of his head. Jack has always gotten hit on at work. He’s always gotten flirted with everywhere really. He very, very rarely flirts back. But though he may not have put it together, everyone else, yourself included, has noticed that now that he’s truly gone salt and pepper he gets flirted with far more. 
Later that night around 1:30 a.m. the two of you are at the hub charting together. “Can you take the eight year old with a possible broken arm from a bunk bed fall with the new med student, Cooper? I said I would but I don’t think I can handle another mom right now and I would really love to try and get like four bites of literally anything.”
“I suppose for you I can,” you tease him, bumping your hip against his. “I brought us leftovers from last night too. They’re in the fridge.”
“I knew I kept you around for a reason.” You scoff in mock offense as Jack logs off his computer. He looks over at you and waits until you look up at him which doesn’t take long. “Thank you.” He gives you a flash of a smile and then starts to walk toward the breakroom. 
The opportunity is too good to pass up. After he gets a step or two away you call out to him. “Sure thing, babe!” 
Jack stops walking and tilts his head letting out a single huffed laugh as he shakes his head and rolls his eyes before he resumes walking. He can’t keep the small smile off his face though. 
A while later Jack finds you again at the hub, just the two of you. You guys chat for a bit until you get called away. “Oh,” you turn back to Jack, “can you remind me to check if my mascara is dried out when we get home. I’m going to need some for Shen’s wedding.”
Jack smirks at you and you already know what he’s about to say. “Sure thing, babe!” 
The nickname stuck and it pretty much became your and Jack’s exclusive way of referring to each other. You both ached for it to be a real pet name. People assumed that calling each other ‘babe’ constantly would lead to a conversation and so you’d get together within a month or so. Especially because then you’d be an attending. You wouldn’t technically be Jack’s student anymore, you’d be equals. But you still didn’t get together.
And once you became an attending and had been one for six months or so and nothing happened, people stopped placing bets. Because surely if it was going to happen it would have already. 
A year after you became an attending you started to notice it more than you had before. It felt like most of your patients were children with their parents or newlyweds or recently engaged or celebrating their 50th wedding anniversary or pregnant. Marriage and kids were frequently on your mind. But you still couldn’t bring yourself to put yourself out there and try to find someone. 
You talk about it casually with a couple of people at work, that you think you’d like marriage and kids one day, and the interest in you and Jack is renewed and bets start getting placed again. 
And one day, six years after you met, it finally happens.
You and Jack walk into his place after your shift. You unsurprisingly had to stay late so it’s 9 a.m. or so, your guys’ evening. It wasn’t a bad shift in the scope of things, but it wasn’t the easiest shift you’ve ever had either. 
Jack keeps semi blackout curtains in his living room and pulls them closed while you grab a drink for yourself and a beer for Jack from his fridge without even asking if he wants one. You don’t turn any lights on. The curtains dim the room, but you can still easily see each other.
He sits on the opposite end of the couch from you, leaning into the corner of it and putting the thigh of one leg on it as he tilts his body towards you so that you guys can see each other. Manspreading like always. If only he knew how insane it drove you. You hand him his beer and then settle back into the same position, and if only you knew how insane your legs being relatively spread open drove him. 
“I guess at least nobody died,” you mutter before taking a drink. 
Jack nods slowly as he finishes swallowing. “We’ll take the wins where we can.” He tilts his head at you. “Didn’t see much of you tonight.” 
“It was busy. I think we kept hitting our free moments at different times. It’s not like I was ignoring you.” You give him a knowing look, confused about why he’s even commenting on it. It’s something that just happens sometimes. 
He’s commenting because he missed you, quite a lot today for some reason, and especially because he saw you on your phone a decent amount at the beginning of your shift, more than you usually are, and you seemed happy. Of course he wants you to be happy, but he wants to know why. Why you weren’t using that time to come see him and let him make you happy. He’s hoping the explanation isn’t another man. 
“You seemed to be in an awfully good mood at the beginning of your shift.” He tries to keep it light, like it’s just something he noticed and not him trying to probe for information.
“Eh. My college ex boyfriend texted me.” You roll your eyes. “It was random more than anything.”
He swallows hard. Fuck. It was another man. “Oh,” Jack draws the word out, “is that who was making you smile down at your phone until about midnight tonight?” He smirks at you like he isn’t internally seething with jealousy.
You roll your eyes again but this time at Jack. “He sent me the most ridiculous opening line and it was funny, so it made me smile, yes.” 
Jack’s jaw sets and he takes a drink of his beer so that he doesn’t grind his teeth loud enough for you to hear. “You sharing or?”
There’s the faintest hint of snippiness in his tone that makes you narrow your eyes at him slightly. Jack knows all about your college ex, how he decided he didn’t want to move with you for medical school and then again for residency potentially. It broke your heart at the time but things still ended amicably all things considered. You figure the snippiness is related to Jack disliking him.
“He asked if I went into cardiology because, and I quote ‘you are the very beating and pulse of my heart.’” You start laughing as you finish saying it. Jack hardly even laughs, he just rolls his eyes and shakes his head, shifts to sit straighter on the couch so he’s looking at the black TV in front of him and not over at you. “Oh come on,” you nudge his thigh with your foot. “It was funny.”
Jack takes another swig of his beer and pulls his lips down, shrugs slightly. “Worked on you enough that you memorized it.” 
You choke on the sip of your drink you just took, coughing a little. Jack glances over at you for a second just to make sure you’re okay. 
“Worked on me? It didn’t fucking work on me. He sent it to break the ice, babe.” You furrow your brows and shake your head at him, looking at him with a mixture of disbelief and confusion. 
“Well you liked it enough to remember it and keep talking to him.” He already knows you’re going to go see this guy and probably get into a relationship and that’ll pretty much be the end of your best friends relationship as you know it now. 
You scoff at him. “I found it funny enough to remember. There’s a difference.” 
“Okay,” he sings, clearly not believing you and you just shake your head at him. You both take sips of your drinks. Even with Jack’s kind of strange behavior the silence is still comfortable. “So why’d he text you after all this time? It’s been like what? Ten years?”
You shift on the couch and pull your legs up to your chest. “He moved to Pittsburgh. Asked if I’d be interested in seeing him.”
Jack’s head snaps over to you. “You are, aren’t you? You’re going to see him?” 
His gaze is so intense it feels like it’s pinning you in place. “Yeah.” You shrug. You don’t get why this is such a big deal all of the sudden. You need this. You need to move on from Jack. You need to try and have the rest of the life you want, even if it’s not quite how you pictured it. You and Jack would still be best friends and some things might change, but it’s not like everything would change or suddenly you’d just stop hanging out because you got married and had kids.
Jack scoffs at you now. “Why?” There’s a bite behind his tone. He’s not sure if you have a real reason or if it’s just to reconnect. You squirm under his gaze for a second before you have to look away as you give him another shrug. That’s the confirmation he needs. “Bull-fucking-shit, you absolutely have a reason.” You let out a breath and occupy your mouth with another sip of your drink. “Fine. Then look me in the eye and tell me you don’t have a reason.” 
You sigh and look back at him. You swear he almost seems mad with how serious he looks, lips pressed in a line, still staring at you with that same intensity, eyes slightly narrowed. You know you’re going to have to tell him because you can’t lie to him. As in you couldn’t bring yourself to do it and also he would know the second it came out of your mouth. 
“It’s stupid,” you admit, “it’s stupid and I know it and a big part of me doesn’t care. But you’ll think it’s stupid too. Think I’m stupid for even considering it.” 
“Hey.” Jack shifts on the couch so he’s turned towards you again, features softened. “You’re not stupid. I know you far too well to know that if there is one thing in this world that you are definitively not, it’s stupid. If it’s a stupid idea, yeah I will tell you that. ” 
You look down at your hands. You know you’re going to have to tell him eventually. If you end up doing it then it’s going to come out. “When we broke up we made this stupid pact together that we both thought was just a funny joke at the time. We said if we reached the age we are now and weren’t married or in a serious relationship we’d get married and have kids together.” You pause for a second and swallow. “Neither of us are married or in a serious relationship. So you know…”
Jack’s jaw falls open a little as his head lolls forward. Adrenaline floods his body so fast he grows cold in seconds, stomach churning. He can’t lose you. Not like this. If you dated the guy and fell back in love with him that would be one thing. But this? No. And actually, no in general. He can’t lose you. He can’t watch you marry someone else and have someone else’s kids. He knows you really want marriage and kids and he wants that for you, just selfishly only with him. It gets harder to breathe as some actual panic starts to seep into him. 
He lets out an incredulous laugh. “You’re actually fucking considering this?” 
Tears sting at the back of your eyes. You know he’s not laughing at you and you know he’s not truly judging you but his reaction still hurts in a way you didn’t expect it to. All you can do is nod at him. 
Jack laughs again, running a hand through his hair and shaking his head. “Fucking why?”
“Because Jack!” He shrinks back slightly, eyebrows raising at your response and the emotion he thinks he hears in your voice. “Because I want to share my life with someone romantically! Because I want to get married and have a house and have kids! I want that life. And I’m not getting any fucking younger.”
“Oh my fucking god,” Jack scoffs. He’s nearly at a loss for words. “How can you say that? You haven’t even been looking for someone! You don’t date and I know you’ve been asked out plenty of times. And don’t give the excuse of being too busy because we both know that’s not true anymore.” He shakes his head at you and looks pissed. “Do you even fucking love him?” 
You shrug. You have absolutely no justification for why you don’t date other than because you’re in love with Jack. So you don’t even really try to justify anything. “I haven’t been, no, but I’ve still always wanted that stuff and this kind of fell in my lap and so maybe it’s a sign. And as for loving him… yeah. No. Kind of? I don’t know anymore. Would he be my first pick? No. But he’s nice, he treated me well and he’ll be a good dad I think. And maybe now that we’re both grown up there will be more of a spark there.” You knew Jack would think it was a stupid and bad idea but you didn’t know he’d react quite this strongly. In part you’re not sure why he cares so much. He’s your best friend. He should want to see you happy and living the life you want. And this is a way for you to at least be living the life you want and to be happy enough.
“So what, you’re going to fucking settle? Settle for the guy who broke your heart? The guy who couldn’t be fucking asked to move maybe twice for you so that you could do what you dreamed of? The guy who allegedly loved you but not quite enough to make any sacrifices for you?” Jack tilts his head at you. “Babe you deserve so much better. So much fucking better. Don’t do this to yourself. Don’t even consider it further. Please” 
“I think maybe I would be enough for him now. He reached out. Remembered. That has to count for something, right? And I want it Jack.” You shrug at him. You’re a little upset. Not with Jack, just with everything else. With what you don’t have. With the way you struggle about whether you really want marriage and kids without Jack now that you’re really thinking about it. “I want that life and I feel like I’m running out of time and yeah, I haven’t been looking so that’s on me, but still. You can want something and still be okay with not having it. But if the opportunity arose, if it just kind of fell in your lap… you know?”
“I know,” Jack whispers before speaking at a normal level. “I just want you to be with someone who you are enough for. Because you are enough. You are so much fucking more than enough.” Jack nods at you, hoping it will help drive his words home. “He doesn’t deserve you. Any fucking part of you. He doesn’t deserve another second of your time. I know you won’t be happy with him. Not truly. You would be settling and you know it. But you don’t have to settle. You don’t. You still have time. You can still have the life you want, just with someone who really makes you happy. Who you really want to live that life with. You still have time to find that person. Your person. So don’t do this to yourself. Please.”
Your heart aches. You know and love Jack so deeply, he’s the one you trust with every secret and part of you. You wish that you could tell him you already found your person. You already found the man who makes you really, truly happy. You already found the man you want to live your life with. That you’re staring at him.
“Jack, we have to be realistic. When am I going to go find that person? With what time? And where? It’ll take me forever to find someone.” You let out a short breath. “And then after I do find them it’s at minimum a year of dating, an engagement, then a wedding, then wanting time as just a couple before kids. I don’t have that kind of time. I have a couple of years at best.” 
“You’re giving yourself an artificial timeline.” He shakes his head. He’s not getting through to you. “You could still go find them. Or at least do this all, marriage and kids, with someone better.” 
“Who, Jack?” You laugh exasperatedly. “Who the fuck is that? I’d still have to find them. At least I know him. That’s better than jumping into this with a stranger. Who the fuck else do I know that I would do this with?” 
There’s a silence as you and Jack stare at each other. 
And then Jack raises his eyebrows and tilts his head at you quickly, just a one second or two flash. 
It hits you. 
“Jack?” you whisper. You need him to say it. Because there’s no fucking way.
He swallows hard. “Please just don’t do it with him.” 
“Jack.” 
“Me.” He rushes the word out, taking a few heavy breaths. “You could do it with me.” 
You stop breathing for a second as you look at him, expression unreadable in a way that makes him incredibly self-conscious, blush creeping up his neck to his ears and cheeks. You’re stunned. Beyond stunned. While your body is still and you’re silent your mind is running a million miles an hour screaming seventy things at once. There’s no way he means this as a romantic thing. He just has to be volunteering himself because he thinks he’s at least better than your college ex. 
The breath you take in thirty seconds later is still shocked. You lick your lips quickly and open your mouth to say something, but then close it when you can’t think of anything. This happens a couple of times before Jack speaks again. He’s quite sure he knows what your reaction means. That you’re trying to find a way to turn him down nicely. 
“I know I’m not him and I’m sure I have much less to offer than him.” You stare at Jack as he speaks, bring a hand up to cover your mouth. “And I know that I come with baggage and that I’m older and that I’m missing a piece of me, literally, but I just think, no I know I could make you happier than he could.” 
You’re silent for a minute. You process what he says but your brain doesn’t formulate a reply to it because you need to know exactly what Jack means. You move your hand from your mouth and rest it to the side of you. 
Your voice is surprisingly even, just like your body is still. You haven’t given into the trembling you can feel coming yet. “Is that… Would you want that? Or would it just be a pact kind of thing to you?” You’re still not convinced he’s thinking about this the same way you are. You’re convinced he’s just offering to take the place of your ex in the pact, not that he’s in love with you like you are with him.
The way you gloss over what he said hurts. He tries to hold onto some modicum of hope that all of this will get figured out and he won’t lose you but it’s getting hard. 
Jack lets out the saddest laugh you’ve ever heard by anyone ever. “Oh no, I want that. I’ve wanted that for a long time. Wanted you. I’ve been in love with you since that first day. The first day I met you. And I’m sorry if knowing it would be really real for me ruins it and makes me not an option. But even if it’s not me you should still find someone better than him.” He shrugs and looks away from you. 
“Are you being for fucking real?” He nods, still looking down. “No, Jack.” You move down the couch so that you’re sitting right next to each other, you with your legs crossed facing Jack who’s still turned into the couch so that he could see you. “Look at me.” He forces himself to look up at you. “Are you serious right now? Do you mean it? You want me? You’re in love with me? Like more than platonically?” 
Jack’s heart breaks because it’s not the declaration of love he’d hoped you give him in return. 
“Yes.” He nods at you, gives you the eye contact you sought, as intense as always even with his glassy and somewhat defeated looking eyes. “I want you. I’m in love with you. I’m in love with you like I want to marry you, I want you to be my wife and me to be your husband, I want to give you my last name, I want to confuse the fuck out of everyone on night shift with two Dr. Abbots, I want you to be the mother of my kids, I want to get you pregnant, more than once maybe, I want to grow old holding your hand and kissing your lips and making you laugh. I want you. I’m in love with you. I love you. I have always loved you.”
You swallow hard, the trembling finally hitting your entire body. “Why did you never say anything or make a move?” 
Your lack of real response to everything he just admitted confirms it for Jack. You don’t feel the same way. You don’t love him like he does you. There’s not going to be any saving this. 
“Because I knew you’d never reciprocate and if I said anything or made a move it would make things awkward and if it didn’t totally end our friendship it would have at least changed it significantly. And having you in my life like this, as my best friend, like you have been for the past six years was so much better than not having you in my life at all and being tortured seeing you at work.” Jack sniffles a little. “But then you started talking about marriage and kids with this guy and I know you want that life and that if you were even considering this pact you were either going to do it or probably start seriously dating and looking for someone. And so I sat here and realized I’d lose you either way. If I admitted my unrequited love I’d lose you. If you do it with him or go find someone to have that life with we obviously wouldn’t be able to continue how we are and so you’d slowly slip away and I’d lose you. So I figured I might as well throw it out there so that if nothing else you know that you are enough for someone. So much more than enough. And you shouldn’t settle for anyone who thinks differently.” 
You look at Jack for a few seconds and then you laugh. Hard. Because you cannot think of how else to react in the moment and Jack fucking Abbot is in love with you and you’re in love with him and you both have been forever and you’re both fucking idiots. 
The sound is a knife through Jack’s heart. 
You quiet your laughter and smile at Jack. He can’t quite believe it because it would be so out of character for you but Jack assumes you’re about to make fun of him. What else could you do?
“Knew I’d never reciprocate? Unrequited love?” You let out a few giggles this time. “Jack Abbot I have loved you every day for the past six years. I fell in love with you the day we met too. I am in love with you. Romantically. I love you.” You laugh again, a few tears slipping down your face, not from the laughter but the other emotions the laughter is just audibly louder than. “You’re sitting here talking about me going and finding my person and I’m trying not to fucking lose it because I’m sitting here fucking staring at my person so sure you would never reciprocate. You’re the one who makes me happy. The fucking happiest. The happiest I’ve ever been.” You take a breath and look at Jack, laughter leaving you and watery smile pulling up on your face, eyes the brightest Jack has ever seen them even in the relatively low light. “You are the one I want that life with. Marriage and kids. I said he wasn’t my first choice. You know who fucking is? You, Jack. You. It’s always been you. I’ve always loved you, too.” 
“Me?” There’s no fucking way.
“Yeah, Jack. You!” You’re beaming at him.
“You’re being for fucking real now?” He loosely mimics what you asked him earlier. A tentative smile pulls onto his face. He’s still struggling to believe that you love him. “You’re in love with me?”
“Yes. Like, like, I don’t even fucking know,” you pause trying to search for a word but it’s hard with how fucking giddy you are, “I’m soul-consumingly in love with you. Head over heels. All the clichés. I’m in love with you. I love you. I love you too.” 
His smile widens and he rests a hand on your thigh. He has to be sure you understand the reality of him though. Or what he thinks the reality of him is. “But I’m-”
“Oh, don’t even start with the I’m older and missing a piece of myself and have baggage. I’ve got some baggage myself. And I know you fucking know that.” You give him a pointed look though your smile remains. “I don’t care how old you are. And it’s hot quite frankly. I mean you are in general but you being older. The salt and pepper drives me fucking insane. Hardest day of my life was when you got enough gray for me to really notice. I had to go back to my place alone after shift and damn near burned out a vibrator over it, I mean jesus fucking christ, I set a personal record, Jack. Your age is hot. You’re hot. And handsome. Unfairly so.” You grow a little more serious to address the last point Jack had brought up earlier, rest one of your hands over his on your thigh and your other hand on his knee. “And yes. You’re missing a piece of yourself. But that doesn’t matter to me Jack. And I know what you think but it’s not unattractive, it doesn’t make you less desirable. And it certainly doesn’t somehow make you less of a man, Jack.”
His head is spinning. At all of. The whole situation. Him professing his love. You professing yours. The fact that you’re in love with each other. That you both want to get married and have kids. His brain glitched out for a second at almost burned out a vibrator and set a personal record all because you were thinking of him. And the way you read him like a book when all he said was he was he’s missing a piece of himself and reassured him perfectly, textbook example of a reason why he loves you. 
Jack’s eyes search yours as he beams with you now. He laughs, and he understands why you laughed. A few tears slide down his face, just as happy and emotional as you. “We’re fucking idiots.”
You laugh with him and nod. “Total fucking idiots.”
“We could have had all those years together. Why did you never say anything?” Jack asks, his free hand covering your hand on his knee. You’re both still so in shock and processing that kissing each other or continuing this conversation with you straddling him or somehow being closer than you are now hasn’t come to the forefront of either of your minds. 
“Same reason you didn’t. Having you somehow was better than not at all. And I mean, Jack,” you let out a flustered laugh, “you have to know like everyone wants you. You could have anybody you wanted and so I never thought you’d want me.”
“Hey. Listen to me.” Jack grows more serious though a soft smile remains. He shifts so that he can hold your face in his hands. He’s held your face like this before, many times, but not like this. This is different. You know you love each other. And while Jack is still your best friend and will always be your best friend, he’s your partner now. Your lover. Your future husband. Your future children’s father. And the same is true for Jack. You are and will always be his best friend, but you’re his partner now. His lover. His future wife. His future children’s mother. And so Jack’s holding your face like that. Like you’re his, in every sense of the word. “There is not a single human being on this entire fucking planet who I want more than you. Not a single fucking one. And there isn’t one that’s better for me. You’re the only woman I see anymore. You’ve been the only woman I see for a long time. You are the only one I want and the only one for me, Babe.”
You grin at the nickname and how it really is a pet name now, how it suddenly holds even more meaning. And you nod at Jack’s words, relish in how they warm your heart and make you feel so needed and wanted and loved. You know he means them. With his entire being. You bring your hands up and wrap them around Jack’s wrists as he holds your face, thumbs rubbing soft circles on the inside of his wrists. 
“You are the only one I want and the only for me, Babe,” you repeat to him. You bite your lip and giggle again and it goes straight to Jack’s cock. Now that you can say it you can’t help yourself. “And I can’t wait to marry you one day.”
“Oh yeah?” He smirks, confidence back in full force, seductive without even really trying. “You want it to be soon?” Jack tilts his head and leans his head in a little closer. You both know you’re fucking finally about to kiss. 
“Could be tomorrow as far as I’m concerned.” You wink at him. It’s kind of a joke but also not really. You’d marry him tomorrow. “But I do want to wait on kids. I know we’ve been dating in a sense for effectively six years, but I want time for us to really be a couple together. Just the two of us. We have a lot of time to make up for.” You look down at Jack’s lips and tilt your head opposite his, lean in even closer expecting him to close the gap. 
But instead he pulls away, making your face furrow. “Seriously?” Jack asks. 
“To which part?” Your confusion at his question and at his pulling back is clear in your tone.
Jack lets go of your face and you let go of his wrists. He stands, confusing you further until he pulls at the fabric of his scrub pants on one leg and sinks onto one knee. “Jack.” Your breathing picks up and tears hit your eyes. 
“I’m sorry I don’t have a ring right now. But I will buy you whatever you want-”
“I want whatever you pick out, Jack,” you interrupt him. 
He huffs a laugh. He loves you so much. You would interrupt his proposal for that. “Okay. I’m sorry I don’t have a ring right now. But I will pick you out one and we’ll get wedding bands on our way. I want to do life by your side forever. I love you.” Jack takes in a breath. “Will you marry me? Tomorrow?”
You nod as you start laughing. “Yeah. Yes! Of course I’ll marry you, Jack. Tomorrow.” 
You and Jack are beaming at each other again as he starts to laugh with you, standing back up and holding his hands out for you. You take them and uncross your legs, let Jack help pull you up. He pulls you close, so that you’re flush against him. And after six years, you both finally get what you want as you tilt your heads and lean in and kiss each other. 
The first kiss is soft, a lingering expression of love that has the two of you breathless as you focus on feeling each other’s lips and the electricity it seems to send through you. The second kiss is a little more, turns sucking on each other’s bottom lips are taken. The third kiss is where things really escalate and before you know it you and Jack are standing in front of his couch properly making out, tongues in each other’s mouths, Jack’s arms sliding around you to keep you close, one forearm running parallel up your spine and holding the nape of your neck, your hands finding Jack’s hair and running through it, scratching at his scalp and occasionally tugging. 
“We’re going to have to go to a different state though,” you laugh against his lips when you finally break apart for air. 
“Wait, what?” His question is a little breathless from kissing and he pulls away a bit so that you can look at each other properly. 
You nod. “Pennsylvania has a three day waiting period after you apply for a marriage license. It almost fucked up Shen’s wedding.” 
“Fuck,” Jack mutters. He looks off to the side in thought for a moment. You take the moment to admire him, this beautiful beautiful man who’s now yours. Who loves you. You keep running your hands through his hair. It’s not the first time you’ve done it but it’s the first time as his lover, his fiancée. “This is the start of our string of offs, right?”
“Mhm,” you hum, “sure is, Babe.”
Jack looks back at you, right in the eyes as usual. “Tomorrow we fly to Vegas. Elope.” 
You raise your eyebrows and pause, waiting to see if he says more or changes his mind or anything. When he doesn’t you bite your lip and nod. He’s probably not even aware of how loved it makes you feel to know he’s ready to marry you tomorrow. Just like that. But then you being ready to marry him tomorrow makes him feel the same. “Sounds like a plan, Dr. Abbot.” Jack’s pupils dilate even more, his hands sliding down your sides and back to grab your ass. “Get your laptop or my iPad, we can book the plane tickets now.”
Jack doesn’t move. “You know you’re going to be Dr. Abbot in less than 48 hours.” The realization has you taking a shallow breath in and subconsciously pressing yourself against Jack even harder. “And we can book later, in a couple of hours.”
You raise your eyebrows slightly. “Oh? Why the delay?”
He uses his hands that are still gripping your ass to grind your hips and pelvis against him as he does the same with his against you. You let out a soft moan when you feel just how hard he is, swear you can feel him throb against as you grow even wetter for him. “Because I’ve been waiting six years to fuck you and now I can. And I need to. You have no idea how badly I need you. So if it’s okay with you I’m going to take my fiancée to bed now.”
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I hope it was okay! I love hearing your guys' thoughts and comments, and I appreciate your likes, reblogs and replies so so much!
Although I'm struggling with how I'm feeling about the above, if there was any level of interest I could probably be persuaded to do a smutty part two because I do love some first time together smut and already have some ideas. So let me know if that's something you might like to see!
Thank you again for reading and all your support! ♥️
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butyoudidthis4what · 2 days ago
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Hi friends! After the poll including Robby I had a couple of DMs asking to be tagged so I thought it would be easiest for all to make a tag list post for Michael Robby Robinavitch fics!
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Because my other tag list post is specific to Jack I won't be using it for Robby posts, so even if you're on that tag list, if you'd like to be tagged in Robby things please also interact with this post!
Thank you all for your support!!
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butyoudidthis4what · 3 days ago
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Pope x Stripper!Reader
Have we seen it?
Would we want it?
I have many thoughts about it and him.
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butyoudidthis4what · 4 days ago
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Quiet Part 2
Widower!Jack Abbott x Widow Single Mom!Reader
Part 1 can be found here!
23.9k || All my content is 18+ MDNI || CW: DOMESTIC JACK WITH READER'S BABY; Shy!Reader; Jack was in the army; reader's husband was in the army and died while deployed; discussions of loss of spouse; discussion of the death of Jack’s wife; suicidal ideation; briefest mention of thought of murder suicide (NOT directed at reader, in the context of Jack thinking about the guy who killed his wife, literally a single sentence); discussion of Jack’s injury; reference to death of parents (not Jack’s or Reader’s); grief; like lots of grief; guilt; so much fucking guilt for Jack and Reader; self hate for a bit for both Reader and Jack; baby is a boy but is not named; a bird; reference to past pregnancy, labor and delivery; crying; DTR conversation; thoughts about sex; angst; no use of Y/N or related
Summary: You and Jack define your relationship and work through more grief and guilt together.
AN: Twenty years later here we are with Part 2. Sorry about that 😅. Hopefully it was worth the wait. I don't know how I really feel about this (I know exactly how I feel and it's not fantastic but when is it ever). This is different from Part 1 in that there is less time jumping, but I think as they now are truly establishing their relationship and not working towards having one it makes sense. We also see considerably more emotion and grappling from Jack in this part. I considered doing a much more zoomed out kind of story with them but I like exploring emotions and such apparently so I didn't keep it as kind of quick to develop and move through their life as I originally thought I would. I don't know if that's good or bad, but it's reality lol. Again, it's kind of emotional but sweet in the beginning, and middle, but it gets funnier and fluffier (I hope) at the end. Anyway I hope you enjoy and thank you for reading!♥️
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“I’m so sorry,” you murmur to Jack as you pull away from him a little. “I really thought I was ready.”
You and Jack have been home for a few hours now, sitting on the couch and starting a new series together. Your son is out hard from his big birthday adventures, didn’t even stir as Jack changed him into some pajamas and put him down for the night while you trimmed the end of the rose Jack gave you and put it in a slim glass vase. 
You’d spent most of your time on the couch leaning against Jack. You like being close to him, like feeling him next to you, warm and sturdy and soft and safe and real and alive. The little voice in the back of your mind telling you this was wrong and to think of your husband was still there, and at times you did feel some confliction, but with the help of your therapist and time that voice had become nothing but a whisper most of the time and more easily dealt with if it got a little louder. 
By the time whatever platform it is asked whether you were still watching Jack had his arm around your shoulders and you were pressed firmly against his side with your head resting against his shoulder and chest, one hand in your lap and the other resting on the lower part of his thigh. You’re in that same position now only you’re both turned in towards each other a bit more and the hand that was in your lap is cupping Jack’s face, your head no longer resting on him. 
When he’d asked if you wanted to watch another episode or head to bed you’d responded by asking to kiss him. Jack had eyed you carefully as he said of course, and that he would like that, but only if you were ready. And you were so sure that you were until you lent in to do it. Hence your apology.
Jack shakes his head a little, leans into your palm where it’s still cupping the side of his face. “Why are you apologizing? It’s okay to not be ready. I’m happy you told me and didn’t push yourself to do something you weren’t ready for. That’s what I want.” 
“No, I know.” You sigh and look down, thumb brushing over Jack’s cheek absentmindedly. “I just feel bad because earlier on our way back I said I was ready for this, for there to be an us, and maybe a little more and now I’m not ready for a little more.”
“I know it’s not easy and me saying this doesn’t make it all better, but please try not to feel bad. It’s okay. And I mean it.” Jack watches you carefully to gauge your reaction and make sure he’s not overstepping as he sets his hand on top of yours and squeezes gently to get you to look at him again. You do, and it hurts him to see how frustrated and upset with yourself you look. He knows how hard this all is. How easy it is to feel like you’re being disloyal. How hard it is to be vulnerable again. He wishes he could make it better for you, take away your struggle because he doesn’t like seeing you struggling and the concomitant hurting. “I’m glad you told me and listened to yourself. I want you to truly be ready for every step of this. I’m not going anywhere just because you say you’re ready for something and then the moment comes and you’re not. You don’t owe me anything, ever.”
“I know,” you mumble, looking away from him. “I just wanted to be ready. I want to kiss you, I really do. I want to give you that, give myself that. I just…” You sigh and pull your hand from his cheek, resting it back in your lap. You’re disappointed in yourself even though you know you shouldn’t be. You did a lot today, gave Jack and yourself a lot. You started a relationship for christ’s sake. You know he has no expectations of you but for some reason you apparently have them of yourself and holding hands and starting this with him and kind of cuddling him on the couch apparently don’t meet them. “I don’t know. I don’t know why it’s so hard.” 
Jack shakes his head slowly. “It was for me too at the beginning. I’m not sure I could articulate why either, but I understand, I promise.”
“I feel like I’ve ruined an otherwise great day.” You look up at him, eyes a little glassy. “And I want this Jack, I’m ready for this. For us to be in a relationship exclusively… for us to be a couple. I want that. A lot.” 
“Hey,” he draws the word out as he tilts his head at you, “you haven’t ruined anything. I promise. I had a great day. The best day I’ve had in a long, long fucking time. I’m really glad you invited me.” He tentatively grabs your hand from your lap and laces your fingers together. “I want that a lot too, to be in a relationship with you, exclusively. To be a couple. So let’s do it, yeah?”
You squeeze his hand, eyes rounded more than usual and brows pulled together. You can’t let go of this undefined concern you have. You’re happy, you genuinely are. Butterflies flutter away in your stomach at the thought of finally being with Jack and at the way he’s looking at you, small, excited smile and sparkling eyes. Like you just gave him some huge gift. It feels like you’ve given him barely anything. “Yeah, let’s do it.” You nod, give him a small smile and laugh a little, almost embarrassed for some reason. Jack is just so handsome and such a good man and you’re having such a vulnerable conversation and admitting your feelings for him. And even though you have before you still find yourself feeling like a teenager almost. “We’re a couple.”
Jack’s smile widens and he nods. “We’re a couple.” He leans forward just slightly before he stops himself. If you were ready he’d have leaned in and kissed you then. And if he’s honest with himself he is disappointed a little bit, but not with you, just that he can’t make you feel good like that, can’t show you how happy he is through a kiss, can’t claim you like that. Because he’s possessive already. He feels it, hard. Harder than he should this early on maybe. 
He looks at you so intensely, is clearly over the moon about this. You don’t realize you’re looking at him the same way, that he can tell how happy you are, how much you want this. 
You groan a little but keep your smile as you let your head fall against the side of his chest. “What?” he laughs softly. He lets his other hand come down and rub your back a little, hyper focused for just a second to gauge your reaction and make sure this is okay. He struggles with the line between asking and trying things because he doesn’t want to make you feel like he’s afraid to touch you, but at the same time he wants to be respectful and not make you uncomfortable.
You shrug against him. “I don’t know. I just feel like… a teenager learning her crush likes her back,” you laugh a little, words slightly mumbled against him. “And I guess I don’t understand it. Why you want me when I come with so much… baggage. And a baby.” 
Jack hums a little and you can feel the vibrations. It makes you shiver. Makes you imagine feeling them in a different context, your head resting on his chest after sex when he hums at something you say or how you run your hand over the part of his chest your head isn’t occupying as you curl into him. “Well, I think our baggage matches. Same pattern, maybe a different color since it’s not exactly the same. Or what is it the youths say these days. Different font.” 
You snort a laugh against him and pull back to look at him. “The youths? Different font?”
“What?” he laughs. “We get a lot of new grads on night shift. They teach me their lingo, keep me up to date and cool.” 
You give him a lopsided smile and tilt your head as you raise your eyebrows slightly. “Lingo?” 
Jack shakes his head. “I never said they were replacing what I grew up with.” He smirks at you. “And back to your point, you come with a baby and I come with baggage and missing a foot with extra trauma and PTSD from that. We all have our things. I want you because you’re beautiful, on the outside yes, but on the inside too. You’re a beautiful person. Caring, selfless to a fault sometimes, giving, funny, adorable, empathetic, so empathetic I know it makes you hurt at times, strong, you have to be the strongest person I know-”
“Jack,” you cut him off, unable to stomach anymore compliments that part of you disagrees with. “Thank you.” You smile and give a breathy laugh. “I’m not sure I understand it still, but… I know how genuine you are.”
He nods slowly. “Can I admit something? It might freak you out and if it does you can tell me to shut up or to leave and never come back-”
“Yes, and I very much doubt I’ll react like that.” You give him a knowing smile. 
Jack grimaces slightly, not quite in disbelief but in a you-haven’t-heard-what-I’m-about-to-say kind of way. He takes a deep breath and then lets it out. “I think we were supposed to meet. I never believed in fate or anything like that but then I saw you,” he shakes his head a little and looks away from you. “I saw you and I was drawn to you. It felt like I was supposed to know you. And then when I walked into the room with you it felt like I’d known you forever. You were familiar. It felt like I knew you’d understand me even if I didn’t know why at the time. And you do. Not just because we’re both widows but,” he shrugs, “you just get me. And I still feel all of that today. I have every day since we met.” 
He forces himself to look back up at you, stomach churning at the thought of seeing your reaction. Because he gets how that sounds, how it could make him look almost obsessive or kind of insane. But you’re just smiling softly at him. And your heart and your mind and your lips ache to kiss him, but you know that emotionally you’re not there. That it would be too much all in one day. 
“I felt the same thing,” you admit. Jack’s eyebrows raise and his head pulls back a little at the shock. He’d felt it in the room that day, like you felt whatever was between the two of you too, but he’d since convinced himself that he was projecting and just wanted you to feel it so he was telling himself it felt like you recognized it too. But you apparently really had. “It kind of freaked me out with how exhausted and scared and emotional I was,” you laugh quietly. “But believe me, I felt it too. Like we were supposed to know each other and were meeting for a reason. And believe me, my therapist and I have talked about it and then some because it was hard for me at first. The idea of this first sight kind of thing.”
“Really?” he whispers. 
“Really.” You nod. You squeeze Jack’s hand and drop your eyes. You hate that you can’t kiss him, don’t understand why you don’t feel ready for that. It’s just a kiss. One that you want. You hate your brain for it, for allowing your grief to still control you. Deep down you know it’s not that easy and you know that the kiss is a big deal because it’s with Jack and it’s going to mean something. It’s going to make you feel so many things. Things you felt for your husband. You need him to know though. That you do want him physically. “I really want to kiss you right now. I just want you to know that. That I do want to kiss you. And want more with you, physically. I wish that I was ready. I wish I could give you more physically so this felt like a real relationship.”
Jack can hear the emotion in your voice. He knows you’re probably closer to tears than you want him to know and that you’re beating yourself up pretty badly inside. He hates it. “Hey,” he says softly, slipping his hand out of yours and using his index finger to tilt your head back up to look at him when you don’t resist. He moves his hand up so that it cups your cheek. “This okay?” His eyes dart around your face looking for any hesitation or sign of distress as you nod and lean into his hand a bit. “First, I think we do more physical stuff than you think. Holding hands. Kind of cuddling on the couch. That’s all physical. But second, and more importantly, the physical stuff isn’t what makes or defines our relationship, yeah? You’re putting too much pressure on yourself I think. Probably being pretty mean to yourself. I don’t need to be able to kiss you to feel like I’m in a real relationship with you. I don’t need anything physical in particular to feel like that. Do you?”
“No.” You shake your head and then shrug a little. “But, I don’t know, I just think that sometimes for men it can be different maybe.”
Jack smiles at you. “Guess I’m not every man,” he teases with a little smirk. His heart soars when it makes you laugh a little. “What I need to know that I’m in a relationship with you is to know that you want to be in one with me, that you consider us to be in one, that you know I’m here for you for anything and everything, that I want you to tell me everything, that you know there is no judgment from me, and that you know that I know the same is true for you towards me. The physical stuff will come with time as you feel more ready. It doesn’t matter how long it takes. I’m content and happy in this relationship just as it is now. I promise. And I meant it too. You don’t owe me anything. You don’t need to give me anything in a physical sense for me to be happy or feel secure in our relationship.”
“I know,” you whisper. “I do, I promise. And I don’t need it to be happy or secure either but I want it. And I know you want it too.”
Jack squeezes your face softly and lets out a breath as he looks away from you for a second. You know he’s conflicted. He knows you know. It’s hard to formulate an answer because the last thing he wants is for you to feel pressure or like he’s just going to be in this relationship waiting around for the day you can kiss and makeout and have sex and then he’ll become really invested. But he also can’t lie to you and say he doesn’t want you. 
He returns his eyes to yours and hopes his reflect how genuine and honest he’s being. “Of course I want it. Of course I want you. Look at you.” Jack’s eyes trail over all of your body he can see in this position and the way he looks at you feels unholy in a way, needy and lusting and reverent. So incredibly reverent. You already know when you do get there Jack is going to worship you. He already looks like he’s ready to get on his knees just for the opportunity to gaze upon you, clothed or unclothed. “I’m not going to lie to you and say I don’t. But I need you to know I’m not going to be in this relationship just sitting around waiting for the day we can do more and have sex and then I’ll become truly invested. I’m all in now. I’m invested in this, in us and our relationship now. Okay?”
“Yes, but, Jack,” you shake your head at him a little, look desperate for him to hear and believe you, “please don’t think I doubted that for a second. Your commitment and investment. That’s not what I meant or how I meant to make it seem because I wouldn’t be ready and I wouldn’t be doing this with you if I felt like that for a second, I promise.”
“Hey, I didn’t think you did,” he soothes, thumb brushing over your cheek. “I just needed to say it for myself and so that you heard it explicitly from me.”
“Okay. Good.” You nod. “Good. I’m sorry, I know I’m making this a big deal and way more complicated and long of a conversation than it needed to be.”
“Please don’t apologize. You’re not doing any of that. We’re just having a conversation and communicating so we both know where we are. That’s healthy. And you voicing your worries and anxieties and your thoughts, that’s important. That’s what I want. I want to hear all of that kind of stuff.” He smiles at you, just a hint of a smirking edge. “I want to be there for my girlfriend, yeah?”
You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding at girlfriend. You knew that’s what you are, what you defined during this conversation but hearing it is different. It makes your heart race. “Yeah.” There’s barely any substance to the word with how breathed out it is and your reaction to the word makes Jack chuckle to himself a bit. You really are adorable. 
He knows this next question is going to fluster you further, but it’s an important one for him so that he doesn’t cross a line. “If you know, and it’s okay if you need a bit to think about it, how are you feeling about pet names? Being called one.” 
“Oh.” You blink at him. “I um…” You look down at your lap, suddenly even shyer than usual somehow with Jack’s intense gaze flustering you further. You don’t know what you were expecting him to ask but you guess it wasn’t that. It makes your brain a little fuzzier as you try to figure it out. You can’t believe Jack wants to call you a pet name. It’s sweet. And the way he asked and didn’t just do it is even sweeter. Toothache sweet. “Yes, yeah.” You nod at him and clear your throat, looking back into his eyes. “I’m okay with them. I can’t believe you want to call me one,” you laugh softly but incredulously, “but, um yeah. Yeah, I would like that. And you? Would you, or how, how do you feel? About them. Pet names.”
Jack beams at you, nodding a little. “I have to tell you that you’re so adorable when you’re flustered like this. When you get a little shyer on me.” His voice is lower than it normally is and Jack forces himself to keep looking into your eyes and not to glance down at your lips. He lets his words linger for a few seconds before clearing his throat and answering your question. “I would like that too. If you’re ready to use one with me, and it’s okay if you’re not.” You shake your head at him to indicate he doesn’t need to worry about that. That you are ready. 
“You have to tell me the one, though.” You cock your head at him, eyebrows pulling together in confusion. Jack swallows hard, his heart rate picking up. It’s always hard, bringing this side of things up. And he knows it’s liable to send you into a bit of a spiral, to shove your loss and your grief in your face, and on today of all days. He hates it. But not knowing might lead him to inadvertently hurt you worse one day. “The one I’m not allowed to call you because it belongs to you and your husband.” 
“Oh,” you say again, breathe it out this time as your eyes find the folded American flag in its box on display. You didn’t even think about that. And you are so so glad that Jack did because you know if he accidentally called you that one it would have sent you spiraling so hard. Just the question has your mind spinning a little because now it’s like a montage in your head, it’s all you can hear. Your husband calling you Angel. Jack knows what’s happening, what’s playing out in your mind. He recognizes the specific glaze to your eyes. And it’s happening for him too a bit. A montage of his wife calling him Darling. Always Darling. Almost never Jack. 
Jack’s hand pulling away from your face to take your hand again and squeezing it is what brings you back. You bring your eyes back to his. “Angel,” you whisper. 
He nods. “Darling,” he whispers back. You know what he means. That’s his one. 
You feel the tears stinging your eyes but you huff a laugh instead of cry. Jack’s eyebrows raise slightly. “I’m just realizing how fucked up that is. I never thought about it before. Angel. He called me Angel and then he went off and fucking died and became one if you believe in that shit.” You click your tongue behind your teeth as the tears start to fall. Because he died. Because he called you Angel. Because it’s your son’s first birthday and he isn’t here. Because you’re with Jack and you’re happy and it suddenly feels so wrong even though you know it’s what he would want. “Fucking Angel,” you whisper as you devolve into quiet tears. 
You’re not even fully conscious of doing it because it’s just so natural and feels so right. You crawl fully into Jack’s lap and curl into him, one arm wrapping around his neck and your other hand fisting at his shirt as you bury your face in his neck and slowly devolve into quiet and muffled sobs. 
The move shocks Jack into complete stillness for a moment. It’s by far the closest the two of you have ever been, the most physically intimate. And he’s so aware that you’re this close and sobbing into him over your dead husband. He feels responsible for your sobs too. He brought it up, forced you to think about it. He just didn’t want to call you the wrong thing. 
His mind spins as he tries to decide what to do. Is it taking advantage of you and your completely vulnerable state somehow if he reciprocates your touch right now? Do you want his touch? Would it be comforting? Will you think it means something negative if he doesn’t touch you? You wouldn’t have climbed into his lap and be clinging to him if you weren’t okay with him touching you and weren’t seeking out comfort from him, right? 
Jack wraps his arms around you slowly, paying close attention to see if you stiffen even slightly or show some other sign of discomfort. He lets one hand rest on your back and the other over your hair on the back of your head to hold you close. When you cling to him tighter in response he tightens his grip around you in turn, hoping the pressure will help ground you. “I know,” he murmurs. “I know.” 
You hate this. Hate being like this and asking Jack to deal with it and intruding on his space and ruining everything with your tears. But Jack is comfort. He’s your boyfriend now and he understands the reason you’re sobbing, the pain behind it. The grief. You trust him with this side of yourself, want his comforting touch and the grounding he offers even as your heart breaks for your husband and what you lost. You didn’t mean for this to happen and you know Jack feels responsible but it’s not his fault. He didn’t make it happen, didn’t make you feel like this. 
“I’m sorry,” you choke out against his neck in between hiccupped sobs. You immediately feel him shaking his head, hold you a little closer. 
“You have nothing to be sorry for.” He keeps his voice low, starts rubbing your back. “It’s okay. Let yourself feel it. I’ve got you.” Jack rocks you gently. “Let it all out. I understand. And you’re okay, you’re allowed to feel these feelings with me, okay?”
The way he knows exactly what to say makes you sob harder for a moment as you take every whispered reassurance to heart. “It’s so unfair Jack,” you sniffle against him before letting out a more audible sob, “for both of us, it’s so unfair. I hate it, I hate it so much. And, and I wish I could make it a little better for you like you, like you do for me. I’m so-sorry.”
Jack barely has time to process the stinging in his eyes before tears of his own are sliding down his face. For all of it. For you. For your loss. For his wife. For his loss. For how right you are, how un-fucking-fair the world is. For how you think you don’t make it a little better for him. 
“It is,” he whispers, “it’s so fucking unfair.” Jack takes in his own shuddery breath. “And you do, you do make it a little better. I promise.” He sniffles, goes to kiss the top of your head but stops himself, nuzzles his nose against you instead. 
It takes a bit longer for you to cry yourself out. Jack’s tears stopped well before yours and he never stopped whispering to you, never stopped holding you. Never made you feel like it was too much. Like you were too much. Like he needed this to stop and you to get out of his arms and leave him alone. Never rushed you.
And he keeps holding you once you stop crying, his hand still rubbing your back and the other still holding the back of your head to keep you close to him. You get to a point where you’re mostly quiet, only the occasional sharp stuttery breath. “I’m sorry,” you mumble against Jack’s neck. “That was unfair of me.”
He shakes his head. “No it wasn’t. You needed to let out some emotion. That’s part of what I’m here for, to hold you through that.” 
You shrug in his arms. “I don’t want you to think you caused it. By asking. I’m glad you asked.” You shift a little, pulling your head from his neck and resting the side of it in the crook of his shoulder, his hand on the back of your head quickly wiping the remnants of his tears and then coming down to wrap around you. “I… I don’t even know what that was. Or why it happened. It just does sometimes.” 
“It does for me too,” Jack murmurs. “And you don’t need to know what it was or why it happened. It can just happen.” 
It’s then you can hear the remnants of tears in Jack’s voice and the realization you made him cry is enough to bring you back to the brink of tears. “I’m sorry for making you cry and hurt.” Your whisper is so low he barely catches it. 
“You didn’t,” he says firmly, trying to emphasize that it wasn’t you. “You didn’t anymore than I made you cry and hurt.” He shrugs. “The world did,” he says simply.
There’s a lot more you want to say to that but you don’t. Because it doesn’t really matter at the end of the day. It happened. It’s the past now. You cried clinging to each other on your couch and made it to the other side of that overwhelming grief together. All you want is to be closer to Jack somehow. 
You shift again, pulling your head away from Jack’s body so that you can look at each other, his arms loosening around you automatically so that you’re free to move, to get off him if you want. But you don’t want that. 
“Jack?” Your voice is a little shaky and it feels so dumb to have it be shaky over what you’re about to ask him to do. It’s barely anything but for some reason it feels huge right now.
“Yeah?”
“Will you kiss my forehead?”
His eyebrows raise. It feels huge for him too right now. Almost as intimate as kissing your lips. Jack’s eyes search yours. “You sure?” 
He has to check. Has to make sure you really do want it and are ready for it. You nod, smile at him and his concern and need to check softly. He cares about you so much. Cares about your relationship so much. Doesn’t want to hurt you or ruin anything. “I am. I want it a lot. If you do.”
“Yeah, okay,” he whispers a little breathlessly. “Yeah, I want it too.”
He moves slowly, giving you time to pull away and change your mind. His hands move to your neck, thumbs along your jaw and he nods with slightly raised brows, asking if it’s okay. You nod a little and lean closer into him.
Both your and Jack’s eyes flutter closed when his lips make contact with your forehead. He doesn’t linger with this kiss, just plants a kiss on your forehead and pulls back a bit to see how you react and if you pull away. When he sees a smile ghost your lips and you stay where you are he leans back in for another and lets this one linger, lips pressed to the soft skin of your forehead for a good thirty seconds before he pulls away. 
You let your eyes flutter back open. “Thank you. I, I liked that. If you ever wanted to do it again. That would be okay with me.”
Jack gives you a crooked smile, gaze as intense as ever. “I like that too. And I would like to do it again, yeah.”
You nod at him. “Good,” you whisper. Your eyes leave his and track the tear stains on his cheek and neck until you see the mess of his neck and shirt that you made and cringe. “I’m so sorry I got you and your shirt all snotty and gross.” 
Jack chuckles. “I’m a doctor. That doesn’t phase me for a second. It’s one of the most benign bodily fluids to get on me.”
“Still.” A rather large yawn hits you and you cover your mouth, shaking your head. “I’m so sorry, that just came out of nowhere.” 
Seeing you yawn makes Jack yawn of course and he similarly covers his mouth. “It’s been a long day and crying can make you tired.” Jack lets his hand rest on your hip, watching you intently to see how you react. “You should get to bed and get some sleep as much as I’d love to stay out here and talk with you all night.” He squeezes your hip gently. 
“Probably, yeah.” You yawn again, this one not quite as big. “Definitely, apparently,” you laugh. “You should get some sleep too.”
Jack laughs with you. “Yeah, probably I should.” He offers you his hand to hold as you slide off him and stand up, grabbing the baby monitor. Once you take a step away he stands up behind you, rests his hand on your lower back as he walks you over to your bedroom door. “I had a really great day. Thank you for inviting me to spend it with you. And um,” Jack blushes again and looks away from you for a second. You have to bite your lip at it as you smile because it’s so cute and you can’t believe talking to you, anything related to you, is making him blush. He looks so cute flustered. You get it. Why he said it earlier. “I’m,” Jack clears his throat as he looks back at you, cheeks still a little tinged with pink. “I’m really happy about us.”
You beam at Jack. You know you must look ridiculous, so overly excited and happy. The whole thing is kind of surreal and even though you’re in your house in front of your bedroom door and Jack’s about to walk down the hall and into the guest room it feels like him dropping you off at your front door after a first date. “I am too.” His words echo in your mind and it’s a little bold for you but you’re just following him really. “I have to tell you that you’re so adorable when you’re flustered like this. When you get a little shy on me.”
Jack laughs, shaking his head at you. His blush deepens and you really could scream at how adorable he is. “Yeah, well, you have that effect on me. You wanna talk about feeling like a teenager.” He rolls his eyes at himself playfully. 
“I totally get it,” you giggle. You get slightly more serious, the giggle fading away while the huge, what you’re sure must be at least slightly goofy, smile doesn’t leave your face. Jack’s smiling too though, just as happy and excited as you. “Are you going to tell Robby and Dana?”
“Oh,” Jack scoffs a laugh and runs a hand through his hair. It shouldn’t make your heart stutter the way it does. “I don’t think I’ll even have to. They’ll just know. Just from looking at me the next time they bring you up. Which will be the next time I see them.” He shakes his head at them and then looks back at you, cheeks a little pink again, that boyish, slightly flustered smile gracing his face. “Are you okay if I show them pictures? Of him? And uh, you and him? And all of us?”
“Oh, um, yeah. Yeah, of course.” Now you’re the one flustered thinking about Jack wanting to show you and your son off. 
“Thank you. I know they’ll enjoy seeing him. Anyway,” he nods at you, “I should let you get some sleep.”
“Can we hug?” You blurt out before Jack can say anything else. 
It catches Jack off guard so it takes a second to process, but his smile widens as it does. “Of course we can, if you’re ready for that. I would like that.” 
You nod. “I am. Not really that much different from the couch, is it? Except I won’t be sobbing into you this time.” You laugh breathlessly just at the thought of hugging him and him wanting to hug you. 
“True,” Jack laughs softly with you. “If you need to cry again you can of course. And I’m going to let you lead, okay? Show me how tightly you want it. And if a hand goes somewhere you don’t like or I do something you don’t like please tell me right away.” 
“I will,” you assure him, “but I trust you and I know nothing like that will happen.”
He nods at you and steps closer, holding his arms out a bit so you can wrap yours around him. You hug him tight as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you in close to him. You nuzzle your face against his chest and take in several deep breaths through your nose to savor his scent before resting the side of your head on his chest and enjoying the sound of his heart beating and the feeling of his arms holding you, warm and strong and safe. Half of you wants to ask him for his shirt to sleep in but you know you’re not there, that the smell of another man in your bed would be a little too much for you right now. 
Jack nuzzles his nose in your hair, absentmindedly kisses the top of your head occasionally because he can do that now. And he can tell you like it by the way you squeeze him a little tighter when he does. You feel perfect in his arms and holding you like this makes his heart glow in a way it hasn’t in a long, long time. He feels happy and content in a way he wasn’t sure he would ever feel again after his wife.  
You could both stay like this for hours. But Jack knows you’re exhausted. Knows you have to work tomorrow. He relaxes his arms and pulls away just slightly. It has the desired effect, you look up at him wide-eyed with a small smile, able to guess what’s coming next. 
Jack slides his hands up your sides and then brings them to hold your face gently, smiling down at you like you’re the only thing that exists in this moment. He leans down and presses the softest kiss to your forehead, lets it linger as he tries to use the kiss to say thank you and he’s so happy because of you and he can’t believe you’re his girlfriend and he’ll wait as long as you need and he cares about you and you’re so incredibly important to him. He pulls his lips from your forehead eventually, only to bring them back down and give you a couple more kisses there, letting the last one linger just a little before his lips brush against your skin as he murmurs to you. “Goodnight, Sweetheart.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A day later Jack glances at the baby monitor when he hears your son stir a little. 
He shouldn’t be waking up yet, he didn’t go down that long ago and he is normally a very good napper. A good sleeper in general. True to form he just shifts around a little and then is back out. 
It makes Jack smile and laugh to himself as he resumes doing the dishes. Almost everything is in the now-running dishwasher but there are a few things that can’t go in and he’s giving your son’s highchair tray a good scrub. 
It’s Friday and Jack’s on a solid string of off days and so is home with your son. A kid at daycare is sick and honestly, Jack just likes being with your son, and so anymore it’s more common for your son to be with Jack than at daycare when Jack is off. You’re both looking forward to having the weekend together, especially now that you’re together. It’ll be your first weekend as a couple. You have absolutely no plans, but both of you kind of like that. 
As he scrubs Jack tries to formulate a plan to get you to let him take the monitor tonight so that he can get up with your son and you can sleep in tomorrow. He knows you’re going to fight him on it, but he wants to do it for you. He’ll just have to make sure he’s the one who grabs it when you guys get up to go to bed. 
The thought crosses his mind that maybe it’ll be a moot point. Maybe you’ll invite him to sleep in your bed with you. Just to sleep and be close, not for anything else and not even naked. But that thought quickly morphs into kicking himself mentally, asking himself why the actual fuck he’s thinking about that when you aren’t even ready to kiss and have been a couple for less than 24 fucking hours. 
He knows it’s because he wants that closeness with you. Wants to basically hug you all night. He would absolutely never pressure you into doing so, it’s just why he’s thinking about it. Thinking about your warm skin against his, your breathing slow and soft as you sleep curled into him, the little sounds you’d make in your sleep, how peaceful you’d look, and god the sound of your sleepy voice in the morning, spoken more into his chest than anything as you nuzzle against him and try to hide from the light and ask for five more minutes. 
No. Just no, Jack tells himself. He needs to stop. It feels wrong on so many levels to think about you like that, even though it’s not sexual. If only Jack knew the way you were miles away daydreaming in your office about effectively the same thing and about kissing him. 
He turns his thoughts elsewhere. What to make for dinner. He likes cooking for you and your son. He likes watching your face when you take first bites and is borderline addicted to the smiles you give him, the soft hums you give him that are really almost moans when you particularly like something, the praise of ‘this is amazing Jack’ and ‘god you really outdid yourself tonight’ and ‘fuck that’s good’ and ‘you spoil me’ and ‘this is incredible Jack, thank you for cooking’ you give him. 
But what to make? He could do something he’s made before and knows you like. He could try something new. Or you could get takeout. Make it kind of a mini-date at home. He knows your favorite places and dishes by now and he could wait until you get home to order, ask what place you’d prefer. Depending on how long your son naps and what kind of mood he’s in the three of you could potentially go out somewhere. But you did that last night. So maybe him making something is actually better. So he circles back to the question. What to make?  
While he’s letting ideas for dinner percolate in the back of his mind he thinks about how he needs to set up something so that you can meet Robby and Dana. He wants you to meet them of course but they’re also the two best potential babysitters if you end up liking them and feeling like you can trust them. And you’re going to need one if he’s going to ever be able to take you out on a real date. He loves doing stuff as the three of you, yes, but he still wants to date you. Just you. Do something with you that you guys couldn’t do with your son. Focus on each other.
Jack knows it’ll be hard for you to leave your son and he’s not going to force the issue of course, but he hopes that having a nurse or a doctor as a sitter will help allay at least some of your fears. He should probably think of a good date idea before bringing it up though. 
What if he had you cook with him tonight? If you wanted. Almost like a little cooking class date, just at home. You always talk about wanting to become a better cook. That could be fun right? Your son could watch from his highchair or Jack could baby-wear him with a wrap or the carrier. Depending on how late you get home and how early your son goes down for the night and how late you’re okay eating your son might even be asleep by then. Unlikely but not impossible. 
As he finishes the dishes he decides that he’ll go pick something to make and get a list of things to buy at the store. Then once your son is awake from his nap and maybe had a snack they can walk to the store together, maybe drive depending on how much is needed. 
Jack grabs the clean dish towel to dry his hands. And that’s when he realizes it. When he feels it. Or rather doesn’t feel it. His eyes snap to his left hand. 
No wedding ring. 
Jack’s stomach drops, fingers and toes going cold while adrenaline floods his system and shoves him right into fight or flight, breathing and heart rate picking up. He spins back to the sink, praying that he’ll find his ring resting in the sink or on the grate of the one side and that it didn’t slide down into the pipe on the garbage disposal side. Or that he didn’t lose it somewhere else and is just now noticing. How could he have not fucking noticed the second it came off?
A short burst of relief floods him when he finds it sitting against the grate. He’s quick to pick it up and hold it in the palm of his hand, stare down at it. He still can’t believe himself. That he didn’t feel it when it came off. He knows he was in his head and thinking but still. That’s his wedding ring. That’s her. One of a few things he has left of her and it came off and he didn’t feel it. The ring he’s worn every day for how many years now? And he didn’t fucking feel it come off. He’s the worst, his brain tells him as he slips into mentally berating himself. 
And the thing is, Jack has known he needs to take off his ring, especially now that you’re ready and in a relationship and together. He’s been mentally preparing for it and thinking about it. He’s been trying to work his way up to it. He was hoping to do it this weekend at some point. 
He never expected to not have a choice. For it to slip off while doing the dishes. He’s been doing the dishes for the past five years, scrubbing his hands at work for the past five years and nothing. It never came off. And he knows he does have a choice. He knows he could slip it back on right now. 
But instead he just stares at it in his palm. 
He doesn’t know what to do. It needed to come off. But he wanted to take it off. Have it be an intentional thing. Be talking to her in his mind when he did it, reassuring himself and her that it’s not that he doesn’t love her anymore because he does, he always will. And instead it came off and he didn’t notice. What does that tell her? But if he puts it back on how long will it be until he can bring himself to take it off again? Was he ever really going to work up to taking it off or did something like this need to happen? Is this a sign from the universe? Did it happen on purpose?
A tapping sound on the glass of the window behind the sink interrupts Jack’s thoughts. He looks up and there’s no fucking way this is real. A bird is there on the windowsill looking back at him and tilting its head back and forth at him how birds do. It’s not just any bird though. 
It’s a mourning dove. His wife’s favorite. 
The irony of the name was not lost on him the first time he saw one after she died. It was years ago. Five and a bit years ago. At her funeral. One had landed on her casket and Jack had come a little unglued for a minute, ended up squeezing Robby’s forearm so tight it was bruised for a couple of weeks. 
Since then they’ve become a little thing for him. He tells himself it’s silly, but he feels like they’re her in a way. A kind of manifestation of her spirit visiting him. Because he’s only seen them a few times since then and each of those times has been poignant. A couple of times when he visited her grave. A few times on the roof at work when his feet got a little too close to the ledge. Once after he kissed a woman other than her for the first time after her death. And now that he really thinks about it he realizes that one landed on the ground in front of him as he waited to cross the street on his way to work on the day he met you. 
He looks back down at his wedding ring and picks it up with his right hand, holds his left hand out as he thinks about putting it back on. More tapping on the glass and that familiar coo has him focusing back on the dove. It’s beautiful. Just like she was. It has a unique line of black feathers just above one of its eyes. It makes the usual blue ring that circles a mourning dove’s eye pop even more. 
It has to mean something, Jack tells himself. Except that’s crazy, right? It’s just a bird on a windowsill. It doesn’t mean it’s her visiting and trying to tell him something.
Jack stares back at it. It feels like a sign. All of it. His ring slipping off while doing the dishes at your house when it hasn’t before in over five years of doing dishes. The dove appearing. It feels like her telling him that it’s okay. It’s okay to not wear his ring. It’s okay to be with you. It feels like her blessing. 
He closes his right hand around his ring and the dove looks at him for a few more seconds, gives him a couple more coos before it flies off leaving Jack standing there trying to process everything that’s happened in the last five minutes. But then his mind goes blank for a moment and there’s nothing but the feeling of his wedding ring pressing into the palm of his right hand. 
Jack’s turning so his back is against the base cabinets as he slides to the floor, tears blurring his vision as it slams into him and consumes him. The memory of that ring going on his finger. Her face and how excited she was. How beautiful she looked in her white dress with that veil. How she could barely get her vows and the ring exchange out, not from tears but from giggles. How her it was. How she held onto his finger once she slid his ring on. How she didn’t let go until the very end of the ceremony when she could finally hold his face as they kissed for the first time as husband and wife. How she was obsessed with his left hand all night, constantly holding it and running her fingers over his ring. How she kissed it that night in bed. 
Jack doesn’t even realize how hard he’s sobbing as he clutches his right hand and ring to his chest, right over his heart. It all replays for him. How they met. Their first date. Their second date. Their first kiss. Their first time. Leaving for his first deployment while they were together. Coming back and her running and jumping into his arms, refusing to leave them all night. 
Getting to be home and spend time with her. All the things they did together in between deployments. Going abroad. Hiking. Renting a cottage on the beach in Connecticut for a weekend. Making dinner at home together. Fun dates. Their sadness when he found out he was being deployed again. Her tears when she had to hug him goodbye. His promise he’d come back to her.
An IED. Physical pain indescribable until the adrenaline fully hit as he tried to save the others around him. Looking down and realizing his foot was gone. 
Waking up in Germany. Waking up at Walter Reed to her asleep in a chair next to his bed. Surgeries. Moving to a hospital in Pittsburgh. Physical therapy. Depression. Finding his therapist. Her right by his side through it all. A prosthetic. An honorable discharge. Her being more than he could ever deserve as he struggled to adjust.
Medical school. Medical school graduation. The pride in her eyes and how tight she hugged him and her breath against his ear as she whispered how proud she was of him. Residency. 
Him picking out her engagement ring. Planning the proposal. Proposing. Wedding planning during residency. Their whole wedding. Their honeymoon. Their talks of kids and a house in the suburbs. Her saying how she wanted a group of little boys that were all the spitting image of their father. Plans to start trying once he became an attending.
Becoming an attending. Deciding not to actively try but more to just not prevent and see what happened for a bit. The death of her mom hitting her hard and putting the brakes on kids for a bit. Holding her as she cried. Helping her plan a funeral. Things slowly getting better. The death of her dad just a year later understandably obliterating it all. Holding her as she cried again. Helping her plan another funeral. Things slowly getting better again.
Deciding to actively try and track her cycle. An emergency medicine and trauma conference in Vegas. Hugging and kissing her goodbye at the airport. Dreaming of her surprising him with a ‘welcome home daddy’ sign when he got back. 
That phone call from Robby as he laid in his hotel bed reading some materials from one of the presentations. 
Denial. Numbness. Yelling at Robby that this wasn’t even close to a funny joke. The slow realization it was the truth. A drunk driver had taken her from him almost instantly but the driver got to walk away with a couple of bruises and a broken arm.
Robby getting him a ticket on the next plane home. Crying silently in that hotel bed because this couldn’t be real. Finally feeling it and sobbing in an airport bathroom with the sound of slot machines in the background. 
The blur of getting back home and Robby being there. Robby telling him the details of what happened and her injuries after he demanded them through a yell when Robby tried to tell him he didn’t need to know, that it wouldn’t make a difference and would just torture himself. Jack screaming at Robby and blaming him for not saving her when Jack knew based on what Robby told him that she was effectively DOA. That there was no hope of her surviving. That if the paramedics hadn’t happened to recognize her as his wife she almost certainly would’ve been pronounced on the scene and never even brought in. Dana grabbing him in the tightest hug as his screams turned into sobs, choked apologies and thank you for trying-s to Robby and asking what he was supposed to do.
Considering killing himself. Considering killing the driver that hit her and then killing himself. 
Planning her funeral. Seeing her again for the first time in her casket. Feeling a pain so deep and a grief so profound he was sure he would drop dead. Her funeral. Trying to give a eulogy. The dove. Watching her be lowered into the ground. Feeling like the photo of her to the side of her casket was mocking him. Feeling like a piece of shit for feeling that. The celebration of life after. Spending too much time comforting other people as they came up to him and apologized for his loss and talked about her. 
All consuming depression. Not leaving his bed for days. Laying on his side and looking at her pillow and crying because he was looking at her pillow and not her face. Because he’d never look at her face like that again. He’d never have her laying in bed with him again.
Slowly coming out of the depression. Finding a new normal. Deciding to live for her as much as it hurt. Working at the Pitt. Things getting better and life and himself feeling stable. Visiting her grave. The years eventually blurring together as he falls into a routine and goes to work and comes home and listens to the scanner and sleeps and goes back to work again. Some dates and casual flings, brief romances. Nothing serious. They grow fewer and farther between.  
And then Jack hits meeting you and his mind stops. 
The sobs don’t. The way he rocks himself slightly in an attempt to self soothe doesn’t. The choked out apologies to her for everything don’t. The way it feels like he’s right back there, on the day he lost her and the day he saw her in her casket doesn’t. The guilt he suddenly feels for being with you doesn’t. The guilt he feels for his wedding ring falling off and him not noticing while he was doing your dishes, washing your child’s highchair tray doesn’t. The ache that fucking dove and what felt like her blessing put in his heart doesn’t. 
Missing her so badly he can’t breathe doesn’t. But neither does his want and need and affection for you. 
Jack hasn’t cried like this in a good while. Hasn’t felt everything all over again and watched his entire life with her and the aftermath play out in his mind in even longer. And he doesn’t understand, or maybe isn’t letting himself understand, why he feels so sad and so guilty and why he had to replay everything in his mind. Why he’s still fucking sobbing and clutching his ring so hard it’ll take hours if not a full day for the indent it leaves behind to fade. 
Deep down Jack knows it’s a form of processing. He knows his ring coming off is a huge thing for him and he knows that’s okay and that this reaction is okay. He and his therapist have talked at length and repeatedly, especially recently, about his possible reactions to taking it off. But he didn’t really take it off, did he?
His sobs taper off as exhaustion hits and he runs out of tears. But his feelings don’t stop. He’s a storm of emotions, has guilt in every direction possible. He hits that numbness that accompanies exhaustion though and it’s a nice change, not feeling every emotion even as he knows he still has them. His head feels fuzzy and it gets harder to think.
Jack lets his head fall back against the cabinet and closes his eyes. It quickly becomes apparent to him though that if he stays here he’ll fall asleep here. So he forces himself up and to the guest bed, pretty much just flops onto it, head barely hitting a pillow. He looks at his ring for a few seconds before his eyes start to close, curls his hand back around it and brings it back close to heart as he falls into a deep sleep.
He wakes hours later to the sound of crying. It’s not a screaming cry like something is wrong or your son is deeply upset but still. It takes him a minute to come back to fully, to remember what happened, to remember the thing he’s still clutching in his right hand is his wedding ring. Jack rolls onto his back and runs his left hand over his face and through his hair to try and fight off the remnants of sleep. And he feels it of course, the lack of it, no metal ring gliding over his skin. 
As he sits up he opens his hand to look at his ring. He feels so fucking melodramatic now. It’s a ring. She’s been dead for over five years. It should have come off a long time ago. It’s not like he has to get rid of it. He just won’t be wearing it anymore. And yet he can’t let go of all those emotions. 
He goes to grab the baby monitor from the nightstand, vaguely wondering why the volume is turned so low but it’s not there. He’s confused for a minute but then it hits him. He left it by the sink. Your son was so quiet and he was so exhausted when he forced himself off the kitchen floor that he just left it there. So who fucking knows how long your son has been awake and crying. After it processes completely it jolts him awake, has him setting his ring on the nightstand and all but running to your son’s room, berating himself further the entire way. 
Jack cannot believe he did that. Forgot the monitor. Left your son nearly alone effectively. Him crying is bad enough but what if something had happened? What if he had started choking? What if someone had broken in? What if he’s been in there for fucking hours crying so long he’s going to get sick now? What if you’d come home to Jack passed out in bed and your son crying? How could you ever forgive him? Ever trust him again? More guilt surges through him and it’s enough to make him teary again because you trust him with your son and he forgot the monitor and your son is one and won’t understand why nobody came for him. Why Jack didn’t come for him. Why Jack left him in there crying alone. 
“Hi Baby,” Jack calls to your son as he opens the door and flicks the light on. “I’m so sorry Bud. I hope you weren’t in here upset for too long.” Your son starts to calm the second he hears Jack’s voice and sees him, small arms reaching up towards Jack asking to be picked up. The big alligator tears rolling down his face make Jack’s heart ache as he picks him up, chubby hands grabbing at Jack’s shirt while Jack settles him against his chest. 
Jack bounces slightly, cupping the back of your son’s head with the hand not holding him, thumb brushing back and forth soothingly. “I’m so sorry Honey.” He turns his head and kisses your son’s temple a few times. He’s stopped crying, he did pretty much as soon as he was in Jack’s arms, just the occasional sniffles and small hiccupped breaths as he settles back down. “I’ve got you. I’m sorry, I really am, and I’m here now, I’ve got you.” 
He settles into the rocking chair that’s there in the nursery and rocks with your son, presses a few more kisses to his head, breathing in the scent of baby shampoo. It calms him. Jack keeps whispering to your son, that he’s sorry and he’s here and everything’s okay and he’ll never do that again. Jack glances at his watch. It hasn’t actually been that long, really it’s been about the length of time your son usually naps for, so it’s unlikely he was crying for that long, right? Unless today was the day he couldn’t sleep and woke up earlier. There’s no way to know and Jack hates it, can only hope he woke up quickly and as soon as your son started crying. 
Your son rests quietly on his chest, hand playing with Jack’s shirt a bit to keep himself occupied, cooing and babbling to himself a little occasionally. It’s comforting, holding him like this and rocking. Jack knows he’s doing this more to soothe himself than your son who’s pretty much completely unbothered now. 
Jack thinks about what precipitated his passing out without the monitor as he holds your son close, namely his ring and the dove. 
Jack knows it was some kind of sign from her and the universe. The whole thing. He doesn’t care how it sounds. He knows it was her blessing. Her way of telling him she’s happy for him and he should be happy too and not feel guilty. And he wishes his guilt could be erased that easily, by a dove and his ring coming off. But it can’t. And it lingers. And Jack is so glad he has someone who understands and won’t hold it against him. Because he’s sure he won’t be out of this funk by the time you get home.    
Even though he knows you’ll understand and won’t hold it against him he still hates that he’s going to be a bit off with you, especially when you just started your relationship officially yesterday. Yes, you cried into him last night from grief but it feels different. Jack brought up pet names and asked a question specifically about your husband. That made you think of your husband. This is his ring falling off. Something that needed to happen anyway. His reaction could easily make it seem like he’s not ready for this or isn’t fully ready to commit to you and let her go in a way. And he doesn’t want you to think that because it’s not true. He is ready for this, he wants this with you so badly, wants you and he is ready to commit to you. He’s been ready and patiently waiting for you. 
He knows he needs to try and get out of his head. Your son starting to chew on his shirt pulls him out of his thoughts. 
“You hungry, little man? Want a snack? A real one, because my shirt isn’t going to do much for you.” Jack looks down at your son and pulls him away from his chest gently. “No it’s not,” he says in a bit of a baby voice, smiling and shaking his head at your son. “It can’t taste very good either.” 
Your son giggles up at Jack at his voice and the way he shakes his head, hands reach for Jack’s face. Jack playfully takes one of your son’s hands and brings it up, mouths at it and makes fake eating noises just to pull more laughter. Jack releases the hand and brings your son up a little closer, leans into him and kisses at his cheeks dramatically, tickling his face with his stubble and his hand on your son’s tummy. It earns him more pealing laughter and makes him smile widely at your son. He loves making your son laugh, could spend all day making him laugh. He loves making your son happy and hearing your son’s laugh helps him, makes him happier and relax a bit. It’s damn near audible serotonin. 
Your son’s eyes shine and he looks so happy, like Jack’s the best thing in the whole world and Jack doesn’t feel like he deserves it in the moment. But he tries to shove that aside to just focus on your son. Your son seems to love eye contact as much as Jack does so it’s easy to catch his gaze and talk to him softly, earnestly, almost achingly so. “I love you Honey, so so much. I hope you know that.”
And he does. Jack loves your son like he’s Jack’s own. Jack, like you, would walk straight into a burning building and through flames for him, would jump in front of a car for him, anything, without a second thought, he’d just do it. Instinctually. And if, god forbid, something ever happened to your son, Jack would bleed himself dry donating his O- blood to your son if that’s what was needed. 
Your son babbles at him in response, smiling at Jack and laughing while clapping his hands. Jack laughs with him and then sighs contentedly. “Alright, you. Let’s get you changed and then get a snack and text mommy and we’ll figure out the rest after, okay?”
Jack’s quick to get your son changed and out to the kitchen, turning off the monitor where it sits by the sink and shaking his head at himself. He’s nervous about telling you, about your reaction. He’d understand if you didn’t trust him with your son anymore, if it somehow ruined things. He just really hopes you still will trust him and nothing is ruined. He can pretty much assure you he’ll never do it again.
Once he has your son squared away with a snack and some water in his highchair Jack sits at the table next to him and texts you. Not telling you what happened never even crossed his mind. He debates calling you instead but he doesn’t want to interrupt your workday more than he has to.  
J - I’m so so sorry. I fell asleep and accidentally left the monitor in the other room. I woke up to him crying and I have no idea how long he was crying for. He calmed as soon as I picked him up and is okay now. Having a snack and some water. But I totally get if you don’t trust me with him anymore and don’t want me watching him by myself anymore. I’m so sorry
Jack stares at his phone waiting for your reply. He knows you’re at work and busy and it might be a bit before you even see that he texted you let alone have the time to read his message and reply. And he knows you might not even want to reply. He’s just praying that you give him something so he knows that you know what happened. 
You do. You don’t even take that long all things considered, it’s only a minute or so before those three dots appear. 
You - Hey, it’s okay, you have nothing to apologize for. I’ve done the same thing more than once, I promise
You - All that matters is he’s okay. Not surprised he calmed down as soon as you picked him up, he’s so enamored with you! 
You - And of course I still trust you with him. I’ve seen you with him and how aware of him you are and how in tune, so if I had to bet, I’d say he wasn’t crying long at all before it woke you up. And even if he had been crying for a while, it’s okay. I’d still trust you. Like I said, I’ve done it before more than once. It’s just one of those things that happens. Especially if you need a nap just as bad as he does!
Jack lets out a sigh of relief reading your texts. His head is still a fucking mess from everything and he hasn’t forgiven himself for this, he’s just so good at compartmentalizing it’s all in a box on a shelf to deal with later. 
J - Okay. I really am sorry though and I can pretty much guarantee you it won’t happen again
You reply quickly. 
You - It’s really okay, try not to feel bad about it. I know it’s not that easy but just know that I’m not upset or anything 
A few seconds later before Jack can respond there’s another message from you. 
You - You otherwise okay? 
Of course you’d pick up on it and know. Of course you’d worry about him. It makes Jack feel so good to know there’s someone out there who cares about him that much, who he’s that important to in a non-platonic sense. But at the same time part of him hates that he didn’t hide it better, that he’s worrying you and burdening you with himself. 
J - Yeah, just been a day kind of
J - Mentally. Nothing to do with him
He glances up at your son as he waits to see if you reply. “Good stuff?” he laughs, your son having devoured the cheerios Jack gave him. “Want some more?” Your son giggles and claps a bit as Jack pours some more out for him. “You’re the best, you know that Bud?”
You - I’m sorry, Jack. We can talk tonight if you want but don’t have to of course. Just know I’m here for you for whatever. I think I’ll probably be able to leave a little early today too
Jack bites his lip. He doesn’t know if he wants to talk about it, or how much he wants to talk about it. 
J - I know. And okay but don’t rush home on my account 
He sets his phone off to the side and turns his focus back to your son, scooting a bit closer to him. “Oh, thank you,” Jack chuckles when your son offers him a cheerio in his tiny pincer grasp and Jack lets him feed it to him, much to your son’s delight. He does it a few more times and Jack takes every cheerio offered until the two of them have eaten them all. 
Jack takes your son to the living room, sets him down on the floor and gets down to play with him. If you end up being able to leave work a bit early it really won’t be too long before you’re home. 
Playing with your son is a good distraction until it’s not and the walls of the box he’d put everything in start to crumble and all his feelings and guilt from earlier flood his mind. Jack’s at least able to focus on both your son and those feelings at once, not outwardly showing any distress or being off with your son or suddenly less interactive. The feelings just eat away at him inside. The guilt. 
Jack’s not even that aware of time passing until he hears your key in the door. “Hi!” you call out as you walk in and set your stuff down, kick out of your shoes. You’re glad to be home and done with the week and so excited to have a weekend with Jack. You walk into your living room and smile at the sight of Jack and your son on the floor together playing. 
“Hey,” Jack calls back. He lowers his voice as you walk into the room. “Who is that?” he asks your son, “Mommy home?” Your son claps and gets excited, starts to crawl over to you but doesn’t get super far. “How was your day?” 
“Oh you know,” you sigh. “Work.” Jack laughs softly. “How was your guys’ day?” You walk over to pick up your son. He’s still close to Jack and without even being fully conscious of it you run a hand through Jack’s hair affectionately before grabbing your son, picking him up and peppering his face with kisses, cooing at him softly that you missed him and you love him and did he have a good day with Jack.
Jack clears his throat as he stands up and walks over to sit on the couch. “Oh you know,” he repeats your words with a similar sigh, only his has an edge to it that concerns you. “You know.” 
You turn to really look at Jack as he sits on the couch and he hates the way your face drops when you see him. You can tell he cried at some point today and you’re guessing it happened before he fell asleep without the monitor. Your brows furrow together, eyes widening slightly in concern. Jack shakes his head and sighs, ready to apologize for ruining your mood and Friday night. But you speak first. 
“Jack?” You walk over and sit on the couch with your son on your lap near him, but leave a cushion between you in case he wants space. You’re worried about him, quite a lot. You’ve never seen him look this sad and almost lost. “What’s wrong honey?” 
Jack isn’t sure how to even begin to answer because it feels so ridiculous. You’ve had your rings off for a long time. He bets you weren’t like this when you took them off. And even if you were it was so close to when he died and you were pregnant. 
Jack doesn’t know what to say so he doesn’t say anything and just holds up his left hand. Your eyes slowly leave his and move to his hand. It doesn’t take you long to notice. And Jack can see it on your face the second you realize. Your eyes go back to his. 
“You took your wedding ring off.”
Jack brings his hand down and sighs, shaking his head. “I didn’t really take it off so much as it fell off while I was doing the dishes.” He looks down at his hand. “It’s on my nightstand, it didn’t get lost in the pipes or anything. I just…” He shrugs. He wants to look back up at you but he can’t bring himself to for some reason. “I didn’t expect it. I’ve done the dishes for over five years, scrubbed my hands at work and it never came off. But today it did. And the worst part is I didn’t even notice when it did. I didn’t realize it until I was drying my hands.”
You’re quiet as you try to think of what to say, what you would want to hear if you were in Jack’s position. And you’re trying to shove the massive guilt that’s hit you aside because this isn’t about you. This is about Jack. But if he hadn’t been doing your and your son’s dishes his ring wouldn’t have come off. It feels like it’s your fault somehow. 
“I… Jack I’m so sorry you didn’t get to do it on your own terms.” You want to move closer to him, rest your hand on him and squeeze reassuringly or hold his hand. But you’re not sure if he’d want that. “You can put it back on, Jack. If you need to or want to. That’s okay.”
Jack had a feeling you’d say that. And he can see in the way you shift a little that you want to be closer to him but aren’t sure if he’d want that. He’s not really sure either now that you’re talking about what happened and it’s all that’s in his mind again. “No.” He shakes his head. “No, it needed to come off. My therapist and I have talked about it. A lot,” he laughs dryly. He forces himself to look at you. “Especially recently, because it’s not fair to you. For us to be together and me to be wearing her ring-”
You’re shaking your head as he speaks and you have to interrupt him. “It’s not unfair to me Jack. It’s just not about fairness in general. I get it, you know I do.” And you do. But you can’t lie to yourself and say it wouldn’t be a little hard to see him put it back on, date him while he wears her ring. You’d never say that though and you imagine you don’t really have to. That Jack just knows because he can put himself in the same position. “If you’re not ready to have it off Jack, that’s okay. I promise.” And you do promise, because even if he did put it back on you would be okay with it even if it was a little hard. 
“I am. It’s been over five years. It needed to come off, truly. It was time.” You can see his eyes get a little glassy and it makes your heart ache for him. You know he must have sobbed about it and you hate that he was alone. Because you know what it’s like. You know what it’s like to suddenly no longer have your wedding ring on and be alone when it happens. You have no idea if he’d have wanted you around when he did it but at least he could have had the option. “I was thinking about it anyway. I was going to try to do it this weekend.” Jack bites his trembling lip and looks down for a moment before looking back up at you, the tears now visible in his eyes. “I just thought I’d get to do it. That it would be this intentional thing and I could talk to her while I did it, you know?”
You let out a shuddery breath and feel tears prick the back of your eyes. “Yeah,” you whisper, “I know. And I’m so sorry you didn’t get that Jack.”
Jack takes a breath and shrugs at you, all the emotion disappearing from his face for a second leaving him stone faced. “Stop apologizing. You have nothing to apologize for.” Jack’s eyes fall down to your son as he starts to babble and wiggle against you more before Jack can see your slight flinch at his words. His tone was sharper than he meant or realized. Colder. He almost sounded annoyed. 
You swallow hard. Both of you knew there would be some really difficult moments during your relationship. Days where the grief was all-consuming and the guilt eating you alive. You just didn’t expect one quite this early on while things are still so new. It’s okay that it is one, just unexpected. “Okay, I’m-” You stop yourself before you apologize again and Jack knows it, looks up at you and gives you the smallest amused smile. It falls quickly though when he sees how upset you are. He hates that he’s the cause. “I, you, um,” you let out a breath, “you’re of course welcome to stay here, always Jack, I hope you know that. And I’m here for you and this if that’s what you need. If you want to talk about, or be close or whatever it is that would help you. I don’t want it to sound like I want you to leave. Of course I’d like you to be here but more than that I want whatever you need and is best for you. I just, it’s also okay if you need to go home, Jack. Be alone and have some time to yourself. Time with her. Go visit her, maybe, if you think that would help.”
You look down at your son while you give Jack time to think, shift him on your lap a little and bounce him on your legs, earning you some squealing laughter. 
“Maybe,” Jack finally says. “I don’t know.” He’s not sure what would be better. The thought of being home and alone with his thoughts sounds awful. But maybe some of the guilt would pass if he wasn’t here with you as terrible as he knows that sounds and is. He doesn’t know. His brain just doesn’t know. He’s paralyzed in a way he hasn’t been in a long time. 
“That’s okay, it’s okay to not know.” You glance around the room as you keep bouncing your knees for your son. You’re trying to think of anything that might help him. Emotionally or just help him figure out what he wants and needs. “He and I can go into my room and give you some space, or go take a walk if that would help?”
Jack shakes his head, frowning at the ideas. “No. This is your house. I’m not confining you to a room in your own house or making you leave.”
“You’re not making me do anything Jack, I’m offering.”
“No.” He’s firm in his answer. “Maybe,” he swallows hard, “maybe I should go for a walk.” He’s not sure if being alone with his thoughts is a good idea but maybe a walk would at least clear his mind a bit. But he also feels bad about it, like he’s just leaving you as soon as he’s struggling with grief. He knows it’s a little more than just normal struggling, but still. He doesn’t want to be that guy, doesn’t want you to feel like you don’t help or he doesn’t want your comfort. 
You’re quiet for a moment, looking down at your son and pulling him up when he wants to stand and bounce on your legs. He’s getting close to walking. You’re not upset that Jack wants to leave and needs space, you’re not sad or hurt. It’s not that. You’re worried because you know how hard it is. How one thing in particular can seem like the best answer.
“Jack,” you whisper, force yourself to look at him so he understands your question. “Are you going to come back?” He nods. Jack understands what your question means. Is he suicidal. He hadn’t even thought about it really. It hadn’t crossed his mind as something to do now, largely, he thinks, because he has you and your son. But Jack hates the fact that he made you worry like that. About losing someone else. “Because you really need to come back, Jack.” You’re still whispering. “Even if it’s not to me.” 
Somehow Jack’s heart breaks a little more. “Hey,” he says softly, tilting his head at you. He reaches out and rests a hand just above your knee. “I didn’t even think about that. I’m going to come back, Sweetheart. To you.” He squeezes your thigh as he speaks, hoping his touch and the honesty he’s trying to project through his eyes will reassure you. “I think I should just try a walk and see if it clears my head or helps me decide what I want to do.”
You nod at him. “Okay. I hope it’ll help.” Jack nods at you and you let out a small breath as he gets up and makes his way to the front door. “Just, um, take your phone? Please. And be safe.” 
Jack smiles at you, lets out the softest laugh through his nose. “I’ve got it, yeah. And I will be.” He turns and rests a hand on the door handle but then turns back to you. “I don’t want you to think this means I’m not ready, or that I can’t be in a relationship with you. Because it doesn’t. I just didn’t expect it and-”
“Hey,” you cut him off gently, “I think a really big and meaningful thing on the grieving the loss of a spouse, I don’t know, checklist, for lack of a better word, happened unexpectedly today and so you’re having a really bad grief day. That’s okay. Those days will happen for both of us. And if on your walk you realize you aren’t ready or can’t be in a relationship with me that’s okay too.”
“I won’t.” He shakes his head. “Because even with all these thoughts and feelings and whatever else right now I feel ready and I want to be in a relationship with you. I just need to try and work it out in my head.” Jack takes in a shuddery breath. He feels like such an asshole for doing this to you. “I’m sorry for dumping all of this and then running.”
“You have nothing to apologize for, Jack. I don’t feel like you’re dumping anything. Or like you’re running.” You give him a small smile. “You’re taking a walk to clear your head. That’s healthy.”
“I’ll be back tonight. Even if I decide I need to spend some time at my place, okay?”
You nod at him and he turns back and opens the door, stepping out and locking it behind him so you don’t have to get up. You straighten out on the couch so that you’re facing the TV, holding your son close just like Jack did earlier in the day but letting him stay standing on your legs. 
You hate yourself for it but you start crying. Of course you start crying. You feel like you’re totally usurping Jack’s grief and feelings or using them and him somehow but you can’t stop the tears even as your son bounces on you and giggles. They’re not even for yourself, not really. They’re for Jack and how fucking badly you know he’s hurting right now, how much he’s missing her, how guilty in every way he’s feeling, how conflicted he is. Because you’ve been there since you met him. More than once. And you understand. You know your situations aren’t identical and you’d never say you understand perfectly or completely know what he’s going through but on a fairly deep level you understand. You know the emotions and how easily they can swallow you. You cry because you care so much about Jack and hate that he’s hurting and that you can’t do anything to make it better. 
Jack has no idea where he’s walking to. He considered your suggestion for a moment, going to see her. He knows that’s a kind of fucked up luxury he has. He can just go and visit her whenever he wants. You can’t go visit your husband easily like that. He’s in Arlington, a four hour drive away. And he knows you love that and are glad he’s honored there but he’s sure it hurts at times. It’s actually one piece of this he really can’t imagine. He can’t imagine not being able to go see her whenever he wanted.
But Jack decides visiting her right now doesn’t quite feel right. So he just walks. And walks. And walks. It all runs through his head again. Every emotion and feeling and scrap of guilt. He’s not even really fully aware of the conversation he’s having with himself in his head, of how he’s trying to process. He just doesn’t fight anything and lets it happen.
He’s so completely in his head and on auto-pilot that Jack doesn’t even know where he is or how he got here when he stops walking as he hits the entrance to a park. It kind of freaks him out how he doesn’t remember walking here but he just rolls with it, walks into the park and along the trail until he spots a bench a little off the path near some bushes. 
More than anything at this point, Jack finds himself struggling with the guilt. He feels guilty for doing this to you. For dropping this big emotional thing on you that clearly upset you for him and just leaving. For making you wonder if he was going to come back or if you’d never see him again and be stuck with another loss and cleaning out his clothes and belongings that are at your place just like you had to with your husband’s. For scaring you like that. For forgetting the monitor and letting your son cry. 
He knows that in some sense this guilt will be easier to let go. That it really will fade almost completely with time because he can spend time with you. He can apologize and reassure you. You guys can make new happy and fun memories, smile and laugh together.
Jack knows that’s not true for the rest of his guilt. His guilt for not noticing his ring coming off. For not putting it back on. For letting that piece of her go. His guilt for moving on with you even when he knows that’s what she would want, is what he would want for her. And he thought about that each time he was deployed and made her a video just in case he didn’t come back. He always told her. Grieve and then find someone else to share your life with and be happy with. He wanted that for her. But now that he’s here having to be the one to do it, it feels like some form of betrayal in a way. How could he possibly ever get over her? Jack knows it’s not really about getting over. Because he couldn’t really, in the same way you could never truly get over your husband. It’s not a breakup. Nobody chose to end the relationship. It was ripped away. 
But he knows it’s not betrayal. He knows that being with you, falling in love with you, doesn’t mean he doesn’t love her anymore, doesn’t diminish how much he loves her. Doesn’t make her some figure in his past that he’ll slowly come to think of less and less until he forgets her. He could never forget her and a part of him will always love her. He doesn’t think he could go a single day without thinking of her even if only for a second. And Jack knows that you would never let him. That if the day came where he started losing his memory that you’d be right by his side with pictures of the two of you and your family together but also with pictures of her and her and him together, tell him all the stories he’s told you about her. 
He knows it’s not betrayal and this is what she would want but it’s so fucking hard at times. He wishes he could just call her. Or that she had left a video telling him to grieve and find someone else. Maybe hearing it directly from her would help. But he can’t and she didn’t. All he has is a dove on your windowsill and while it feels so strongly like a sign and her blessing it’s hard to hold onto that belief at times. 
Jack lets out a long breath and closes his eyes, tips his head back and feels what’s left of the heat from the sun and the slight breeze across his face. He should head back soon so he doesn’t get back after dark. Or at least text you that he’s okay and still walking if it does get dark. But he still doesn’t know what to do. Doesn’t know what he needs. Whether to go back to his house for the night or even the weekend. 
He thinks he’s having an auditory hallucination when he first hears it. That coo of a dove. Jack opens his eyes slowly and brings his head back down. And sure enough there on the opposite end of the bench is a mourning dove. He gives a short laugh of disbelief. So he’s having a visual hallucination too, great. Because this can’t be real. And it especially can’t be real when the dove moves and Jack recognizes it as the same one that was on the windowsill. That line of black feathers just above one of its eyes too unique to be a different bird. 
But then a kid who must be four or five yells “Look mommy! A bird!” as they point to the bench. The kid’s mom looks over and nods, says something Jack can’t hear to her daughter. 
Jack tells himself to be relieved that he’s not hallucinating. But it just feels like too much, in every sense. It’s too perfect to be true and mean anything. But it’s also way too coincidental and on point to mean nothing. Right? 
The dove gives a soft coo and then tilts its head to one side as it looks at Jack, eyes almost squinting. He swears it’s a really? look that he’s given Robby a thousand times. Like really the dove had to come find him again to give him the same message. So maybe he is hallucinating. Might as well go full send then. “I’m not convinced that you’re not some very realistic fucking animatronic dove Robby’s controlling off in some fucking bush to try and help me,” Jack huffs and rolls his eyes, doesn’t believe a word of what he’s saying but still.
He can’t believe he’s actually fucking talking to the dove now. Joking with it. He has to laugh at himself and the dove coos a few times as he does, ruffling its feathers again. Jack rubs his face with his hands and shakes his head before looking back at the dove. He bites his lip when he feels that pressure behind his eyes. He won’t cry. Not with this dove. That’s the line. That has to be the fucking line. 
Jack and the dove just look at each other for a few minutes. Maybe it’s true, likely it’s Jack forcing himself to believe it, but it feels like sitting in her presence. He presses his lips in a line as they tremble slightly. “Yeah?” It’s a loaded question. 
He can’t believe he actually just asked that out loud. To the dove. The random bird in a park on a bench. Like it really means something. Like it’s actually her. But Jack wants to believe it is. He wants that comfort. Wants that sign. And he tells himself that’s okay. That it’s human. That humans have been looking for and seeing signs in all sorts of things forever. Jack needs to believe in this. And so he gives himself this and lets himself believe.
The dove coos back at him once. Jack smiles and shakes his head. After a few more coos at Jack the dove flies off. He watches it fly off, laughing as a few tears leak out of his eyes. He brings his head back down and rests his elbows on his knees, holds his face in his hand for a second and gives himself a single muffled sob through his laughter. Because the dove isn’t here now. He’s not crying with the dove. 
He wants to tell you. Jack needs to tell you. And maybe you’ll think he’s totally off the fucking rocker and break it off and that’ll be the real sign. He has a feeling you won’t though. 
Jack wipes his eyes and sniffles and then stands up. He walked on auto-pilot for so long that he actually has to use his phone to get directions to point him in the direction of your place. He feels much better, as kind of crazy as that fact makes him feel. He’ll stay at yours tonight. The whole weekend if you’ll let him. 
Eventually you force yourself to get up. The tears have at least lessened if not stopped completely. You take your son into your room with you and set him on the floor for a second while you change quickly. You don’t know what to do with yourself. Taking a walk with your son crosses your mind but you don’t want to accidentally run into Jack and have him feel like you’re stalking him or can’t give him space. You’re just restless. 
You could go to the park a few blocks up. You doubt Jack is going to go there if he’s taking a walk, it’s not a huge park you can really walk through. But still. You shouldn’t risk it. You sigh and pick your son up, head back to the living room and get down on the floor to play with him like Jack was. You feel like a terrible mother for not giving your son your full attention since you’ve been home so you do your best to go completely into mom mode and forget about everything but your son. 
Two or so hours pass and Jack still isn’t back. You head to the kitchen and put your son in his highchair, get some dinner ready for him. You consider making something for yourself and maybe Jack but you’re not even remotely hungry. You’re vaguely nauseous if anything. But at least the tears have truly stopped and you put in some eyedrops so your eyes hopefully won’t completely give you away when you see Jack again. You don’t want him to feel like you’re taking his trauma and struggle for yourself. 
You’re helping your son eat dinner when you hear the lock turn over and your front door open. It makes your heart rate pick up quite noticeably. You have no idea if the walk will have helped at all, if he’s going to just run in to tell you he’s leaving for tonight or the weekend or forever. Because you can’t help but catastrophize. You don’t even know whether to call out a greeting. But when he doesn’t offer one as he locks the door behind him you figure you shouldn’t either. 
“Hey,” Jack greets you as he walks into the kitchen, kissing the top of your head as he walks by before doing the same to your son who squeals in excitement at seeing Jack. He sounds much better. Happier.
You freeze for a second. It’s not what you expected so it catches you a little off guard. “Hey,” you reply, tracking Jack as he sits down at the table across from you, baby at the end in the middle. He looks lighter. He’s been crying at least a little but he looks lighter and happier and like he found some answers and worked things out and is almost at peace. It gives you whiplash for a few seconds before Jack’s eyes leave your son and turn back to you, that intense gaze of his helping to ground you. He flashes you one of those smiles of his that gives you butterflies. “The walk helped I take it?”
“It did,” he nods at you, still smiling. “Well, actually, it wasn’t really the walk, it was a bird.”
You raise your eyebrows and smile back at him, confusion ghosting your features. “A bird?”
“A bird,” he confirms. “The whole thing is going to sound insane, and like I said yesterday, if you want to kick me out forever at the end I’ll get it. And I’m sorry.” Jack softens a little. “I know you’re going to say don’t be, but I am.”
“And like I said yesterday I very much doubt that’s how I’ll react.” You give him a small smile and turn to help your son finish his dinner. “And you’re right, I’m going to say don’t be sorry because you have nothing to be sorry for. You didn’t do anything to be sorry for.” You glance over at him with a knowing smile. 
“Still am,” he teases and you roll your eyes affectionately. “What do you want to order for dinner?”
You laugh a little. “How do you know I didn’t make myself something and eat already?” 
Jack doesn’t miss a beat. “You never eat when you’re stressed or worried or anxious.” He shrugs. “It worries me sometimes.”
“I-” you start, but have to stop. He’s right. You never eat when you’re stressed. The fact that he cares about you enough to have noticed and have it worry him isn’t missed by your brain and it makes you feel warm all over.
“You know I’m right.” Jack smirks at you. 
“Doesn’t mean I have to like it,” you grumble at him, but have to smile at the sound of his soft laugh. You help your son finish the last bite of his dinner and shrug at Jack. “I don’t know. Whatever you want. Nothing sounds particularly good or bad.” You stand up and grab a pack of baby wipes, start using one to clean your son’s face. 
“I’ve got it, you grab him,” Jack murmurs once your son is clean. 
“No, you take him. You already washed all of this once today. I’ve got it this time.” You turn your attention to your son. “And you want to go see Jack, don’t you Baby?” Your son laughs, holds his arms up and makes grabby hands at both of you really, looking between you and Jack, but eventually settling on Jack. “You really going to tell that face no?” You click your tongue at Jack. 
“I could never,” Jack hums as he picks your son up. “And he knows it.” He bounces your son in his arms a little, smiling at him and making faces. He glances over at you as he does. “Nauseous?” 
You pause before setting the tray in the sink and starting to wash it. You don’t know why you’re surprised. The man clearly knows you and he’s a doctor. There’s probably some outward physical symptoms you were displaying. “A little,” you simper at him, “but it’s passing.” 
“Good.” Jack sits back down with your son and orders something quickly, the lightest of your favorite dishes. “Food’ll be here in twenty.” 
“You didn’t have to do that Jack.” You shoot him a look from the sink. 
“Wanted to.” You shake your head at him with a little smile and bite of your lip as Jack adjusts your son to bounce on him. “Honestly, I had this whole little cooking lesson date at home idea where he and I were going to go pick up ingredients and then when you got home we’d cook and I’d show you things and wear him or he’d chill in his highchair and then… my ring fell off and kind of derailed everything.” The end of the sentence is much quieter than the beginning. 
You look at Jack as you finish drying the tray and set it on the counter. He’s still focused on your son. As much as he’s feeling better he clearly still has some stuff lingering under the surface. “That’s a very sweet idea. I’m sure we can do it someday soon.”
“Yeah.” He nods and glances at you, gives you an uncharacteristically shy smile. “Anyway, I figure once the food is here and we’ve eaten and put him down for the night we could talk? And I could tell you about the bird. A dove, specifically.” 
“I’d like that.” You nod at him and drape the dish towel back over the oven handle and go back and sit across from your boys at the table. “A mourning dove?”
“Mhmm.” Jack confirms, making a face at your son and then tickling his tummy. They’re common enough that he’s not surprised you guessed it.
“Your wife’s favorite,” you say softly, giving Jack an understanding smile when he looks up at you. 
Jack blinks at you for a solid thirty seconds. It strikes him that you said it. As in you didn’t ask it. You said it because you know it’s true. You know they’re her favorite. He must have talked about it once and you remembered. You remembered. “Yeah.” Jack nods, a little dazed. 
Your smile widens a little. “You’re not the only one who notices and remembers things Sweetheart,” you tease him lightly. 
Jack huffs a laugh and rolls his eyes playfully, but his smile makes clear how he really feels. How touched he is. The two of you chat for a bit until the food arrives. Once it does you eat at the table together, your son happy to hang out in his highchair next to you both. You get him down for the night while Jack clears the table and wipes it down. And then you meet him on the couch. 
You pause for a second, unsure of where you should sit. As of late you and Jack have been sitting side by side on the couch and so normally you would just take the seat next to him and not think about it. But you’re not sure where he’s at tonight, if he wants you that close. 
He pats the seat next to him. “Here, please. If you want. It’s okay if you don’t.” 
“No, I do,” you nod as you walk over and sit next to him, put the monitor on the coffee table, “I just wasn’t sure where you were with it tonight.” 
“I appreciate you thinking about it, but I’d like you close. I like having you close.” 
“I, I like having you close too,” you admit with a shy smile and slightly lowered head. You both shift on the couch so that you’re slightly angled and can see each other.
 “I’m going to preface this all by saying I know how crazy and ridiculous some of this is going to sound. But I just… want to believe it. Need to. So I’m trying to let myself. And maybe that’s not the healthiest way to deal with everything, but I can try and figure that out with my therapist later.” You nod and give him an encouraging smile. 
And so Jack begins. He starts with what happened with his ring, finding it. He spells out all of the emotions and guilt and feelings he’s had throughout the day. There are tears from him, moments where you pull him close and let him cry into your neck and chest while you rub his back and kiss his curls. You reassure him at the right times, express your understanding of his feelings and especially of a lot of the guilt. 
Then he finally moves to the dove. He tells you about both instances, at the windowsill and the park and you listen, nod at times and smile. You don’t look at him like he’s crazy or like you’re just putting up with this until he stops talking and you can free yourself. You squeeze his hand and laugh with him when he does. 
Jack shrugs at the end. Even though your reaction has been nothing but positive as you listened he’s still worried about what you’ll have to say. Still feels exceptionally vulnerable. “So, yeah. That’s the story of the bird I guess,” he laughs weakly, clearly somewhat embarrassed. He squeezes your hand that he’s holding to tell you he’s ready to hear what you have to say.
“Oh Jack,” you sigh, squeezing his hand back. His heart races a little faster. He’s not sure what to make of your sigh. “I don’t think there’s any part of that story, of anything you just told me, that’s crazy or ridiculous or insane.” 
Jack lets out a long breath. “Thank you,” he whispers. 
“Nothing to thank me for Sweetheart, I’m being honest with you. That’s what I think.”
“No I know, but…” Jack trails off, not really sure where he wanted to take that sentence. 
“I know.” You nod at him for a second. Now that you have that out there and Jack has relaxed you take a minute to gather your thoughts. Jack can tell it’s what you’re doing by the look in your eye as you keep your eyes fixed on a spot on the wall. Once you have a rough idea of what you want to say you look back at him. “I think it’s like you said Jack. Humans search for meaning and signs in everything. It’s normal. Especially in this context. And I think that if that wasn’t a sign from her then nobody in history has ever truly received a sign from anybody or anything because what happened with that dove was, I don’t even know how to describe it. Intense? Overly coincidental? I guess I don’t know how anyone could have that happen and think it meant nothing and was just two random things that happened at a very specific time with no significance.”
“Okay, good. I’m glad it wasn’t just me.” Jack lets out a bit of a groaned laugh and runs a hand through his hair. 
“Even if it was Jack, who the fuck cares? The only thing that matters is what it meant to you. How it made you feel. What you believe it is. Everyone else’s and the world’s opinions on it are irrelevant. Even mine. To be clear I’m with you on this, I promise. I’m just saying. Nobody but you will ever truly understand what all of that felt like so who is anyone to judge or tell you that your interpretation is wrong?” You shrug at him like it’s so simple. 
And in a way Jack guesses that it is. Because you’re right. Nobody else could ever truly understand. Not even you. “Yeah. I guess I was busy judging myself on behalf of the world about it and never really thought about it like that.” He tilts his head at you. “I’m really glad you don’t think I’m weird for it and that you understand. And uh,” he looks down and grows quieter, almost nervous, “we’re okay, right?” You know he’s asking if you still consider the two of you to be together, a couple.
You smile at him, lean in and press a lingering kiss to his forehead. “We’re more than okay, Jack,” you whisper against his skin, press another quick kiss there and pull back. 
“Good,” he breathes. You look at each other in a comfortable silence for a minute. “Have you,” Jack pauses and debates whether to finish his question. “Have you ever had something like that happen to you? You don’t have to answer either. I just wondered.” 
You raise your eyebrows. “Oh, well, I, um, yes. But not quite in the same way? I don’t know. He…” You look down at your lap and laugh softly to yourself before looking back up at Jack. “My husband, he used to give me daisies. All the time, for everything. Every big thing, anniversaries, birthdays, sometimes just because. Before we started dating I must have mentioned it once and so he actually showed up to our first date with a little bouquet of them, it was very sweet. I actually pressed one of them and have it still. Anyway, after I gave birth, when I was in the hospital I had ended up telling the nurses about him and what happened, and my doctor already knew. They felt bad, obviously, and so because I didn’t really have anyone to celebrate with they all went in on getting me some nice flowers.” You let out a bit of a shuddery breath, eyes a little glassy as you think back on the memory.
“It was a bouquet of daisies,” Jack murmurs. 
You smile at him and nod. “It was a bouquet of daisies,” you confirm. “And I asked the nurse who brought them in if there was a reason for daisies and she said when she went to buy them they just kind of called to her.” You shrug. “So, it’s not quite the same, but in the moment and even now I like to believe that he was somehow behind it and was there with us.”
As much as the memory warms Jack’s heart, parts of it break it too. He still hates the thought of you not having anyone, not having any support during labor and birth and after. Hates how your husband’s death was still pretty fresh for you. He can’t even begin to imagine. “I think he was,” Jack nods, reaching out and taking your hand, hoping it gives you some comfort and doesn’t feel weird. “Both behind it and there with you.”
“Thank you.” You nod at him. “Now whenever I see them I think of him, tell myself he’s saying hi.”
Jack nods and gives you a gentle smile. “He is.” 
After a few seconds you and Jack both shift at the same time, lean in and hug each other. “Thank you for trusting me with all of that. The story and your feelings. I’m really glad she helped you find some peace. I would be regardless of what it was about.”
“Thank you for listening and trusting me with the daisies.” He turns his head and presses a kiss to your temple. 
Neither of you have to say anything else. You both get it, understand exactly what it meant to the other and for the two of you as a couple. You settle against Jack a bit once you break the hug.  
The mood is still a little somber. You guess that’s how you would describe it. You tilt your head and pull it back a little, give Jack a small smirk and try to help pick the mood up. You hope it doesn’t backfire. “You want me to ask Robby the first time I meet him if he has a very realistic animatronic mourning dove that he follows you around with?” 
“Please!” Jack snorts a laugh, “I would love to see his coughed out ‘excuse me?’ and his panicked and concerned eyes looking at me for a second before he gives you the actual fucking nicest, ‘no, I can’t say that I do,’ while internally trying to figure out how he’s going to casually pull me aside nicely ask me ‘what the fuck?’”
You giggle with him as Jack laughs at the thought. “You know I could never, right? I’m way too shy and socially awkward around people I don’t know to do that.”
Jack laughs as he nods. He lets his laughter trail off and grows a touch more serious, the smile he’s giving you dripping with the adoration and affection and gratefulness he has for you. “I do know that, yes, it’s something I lo-” Jack catches himself, “really like about you.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jack is right. Kind of. He doesn’t have to tell Dana and Robby. But they don’t even have to ask to know. Just looking at him is enough. 
“Did Dr. Abbot get divorced?” Trinity poses the question to the group at the hub. 
Nobody answers for a moment. Half the people there don’t know and the other half don’t really want to spread Jack’s business. 
Robby can feel the eyes of the half of the group that doesn’t know on him. He slowly raises his head and shoots them all a don’t gossip look. “No.” He looks at her a little longer. “What prompted that question?” 
Trinity shrugs. “He just used to wear a wedding ring and isn’t now.” 
The iPad in Robby’s hands drops the few inches to the counter as he spins to look at Jack, who apparently just arrived and is speaking with Dana. 
“You have a good weekend?” Dana asks as she looks at Jack over her glasses with a knowing smile. 
“I did, thank you Dana,” he says a little saccharinely. “Did you? Or did you have to work?”
“No I had it off. It was fine. Didn’t do much.” She tries to keep it casual but Jack can see right through it and it almost makes him laugh as he sets his phone on the counter and grabs a few things out of his backpack and puts them in his pockets. “What about you? Do anything fun?” 
You text him and when it wakes his phone Dana’s fast enough to glance down and see his new wallpaper. A photo of the three of you. She keeps her head down as she smiles to herself. 
“I did yeah.” Jack doesn’t offer anything more much to her apparent chagrin. She clocks his ringless left hand when he picks up his phone, her eyes widening and mouth dropping open for a second before she closes it and looks back up at him. Jack looks at her. He knows she knows. “I’m going to put my stuff away now.” 
“Yeah, okay.” She nods at him, watching him walk towards the lockers. Once he’s out of sight she spins. “Robby!” She flicks her head to beckon him and walks away from the hub in the middle of the floor. 
“He’s not wearing his ring.” Robby whispers. 
“I know. And his phone’s wallpaper is a picture of the three of them.” Dana nudges his arm as she says it. 
“Really?”
“Mhmm. Something must have happened.” Dana pauses and glances over Robby’s shoulder to see if Jack is walking back to the floor yet. “He said he had a good weekend and did something fun but he didn’t give any other details.” 
“He’s gonna have to figure out something to say to everyone because Santos already asked if he got divorced because he’s not wearing his ring.” Robby gives Dana a look. They both know Jack is private by nature, but that at the same time he would absolutely hate people thinking he got a divorce. 
“He is.” She nods. “You think we can get him to talk?” She moves her chin subtly to point where Jack is walking back on the floor. 
Robby shakes his head slightly. “I don’t know.” The two turn their attention to Jack, watching as he starts walking to the hub.
He can feel their eyes on him. And they’re not exactly subtle or trying to hide it. He looks at them for a second and stops walking.
Jack sighs before turning and walking into the breakroom. As much as he acts annoyed about it he really does kind of like it. He likes having two people he trusts to talk to you about and show you off to. 
He crosses his arms over his chest as Dana and Robby walk in. “Can I help the two of you?” They both just raise their eyebrows at him. “Aren’t you both off? Go home.” 
“Can’t.” Robby shakes his head and clicks his tongue at Jack. “Haven’t run the board with you yet.” 
Jack scoffs. “Then let’s go fucking run it.” He takes a couple of steps forward. 
“So it led to more?” Dana finally asks, getting Jack to stop walking and cross his arms back over his chest. 
Jack looks at her stoically. “Does it matter to the two of you?” 
“Ha!” Robby laughs. “Yeah it matters Jack! You’re not wearing your ring! It’s been over five years and you haven’t taken it off and now you have her in your life and it comes off? It absolutely matters. She matters! She’s important!”
There’s a little pang for Jack when Robby mentions his ring and his lips turn down for just a split second, but both Robby and Dana catch it. “I didn’t ask if she mattered or if it mattered generally. I asked if it mattered specifically to the two of you.” 
“It does Jack!” Dana smiles at him. “Like I said before, we want to see you happy and support you.”
Jack looks at the two of them for a second before taking a deep breath and settling his hands on his hips. “Yes, if you must know, there’s more than just friendship now.” He can’t fight off the smile that pulls onto his face as he says it. Nor does he really want to.
“Oh yeah?” Dana’s smile grows and she raises her eyebrows at him. 
“Are you like together?” Robby asks. “Like is she your girlfriend? Or is it like the dating stage before you make it official?” 
“Oh my god,” Jack mutters, shaking his head and looking away from them. “Yes, we’re together and she’s my girlfriend, okay?”
“Since when?” Dana beams at him. Jack knows how happy she is for him, knows she and Robby have seen him at his lowest and truly do just want him to be happy and are excited for him and care and are accordingly being affectionately nosey. 
“Really?” Jack sighs. 
“Has to be pretty recent, we’d have noticed otherwise,” Robby says to Dana. 
“Really, I guess,” Jack mutters to himself. “Thursday night, okay? Thursday night.”
“So I’m guessing you haven’t been out on a real date yet,” Dana hums at him. “It’s important to go on dates without the baby. Real dates.” 
“Yes, I know, thank you.” Jack gives her an exaggeratedly annoyed smile. 
“And do romantic things,” Robby adds.
“I do romantic things! I know to do them! I-” Jack huffs and shakes his head. “What the fuck even is this? I don’t need dating or relationship advice! And we’ve been together all of five days, can we all slow the fuck down?”
“Listen,” Dana starts. “I’m just saying. I’ve been in the baby phase before and I know I was married, but it can be easy to fall into a routine and always have him with you. So if you guys ever need a sitter, I’m more than happy to do that for you, okay?”
“I would be happy to as well,” Robby offers. 
Jack nods at them both as he considers. “Yeah, I kind of like that. The idea of his sitter being a medical professional. And I’ve thought about it before. How the two of you would be my preferred sitters. But,” he shrugs at them, trying a little too hard to look uneffected, “he’s not my kid, so it’s not my decision.” 
“For some reason I think she’d take your opinion into consideration pretty seriously.” Dana smirks at him. 
“This would, you know, require us meeting her,” Robby teases him. 
Jack stares at him. “Thank you for that very helpful insight Michael.” 
“I’m just saying.” Robby smirks a little and shrugs at Jack. 
“Yes,” Jack sings the word a little, “she would like to meet you both. We’ll get it set up. Figure out something to do.”
“Good.” Dana nods approvingly. “We’ll be on our best behavior to convince her to let us babysit for you guys. Won’t we Robinavitch?” 
“Why’d you say it like that?” Robby looks at her with mock offense. “Of course I will be.” 
“She’s going to like you.” Jack rolls his eyes at the two of them. “She’s shy though, has some social anxiety. So if she’s quiet and seems a bit reserved it’s just because she’s shy and it has nothing to do with you guys. She opens up more as she gets comfortable but she’s just quiet by nature. So it’s different.” He nods at both of them. They both know what he means. That you’re not extroverted like his wife. That you’re kind of the polar opposite in a way. Jack clears his throat. “Now is there any other part of my relationship you’d like to plan or be involved in? You wanna actually plan the dates too?” Jack asks pointedly, though there’s enough of a ghost of a smile on his face for the two to know he’s not actually mad.
There’s silence for a few seconds but then Robby apparently just can’t help himself. “You have condoms? You should keep one in your wa-”
“Robby!” Dana lightly smacks his arm with the papers she’s holding as Jack glares at Robby with a set face. “Really? Even for you!” Dana shakes her head at him, but it’s quite obvious to Jack she’s biting down a smile. And when she turns back to look at Jack she gives him the quickest flash of a he’s right though look. 
“What? I just like fucking with him sometimes!” Robby half laughs as he twists and moves his body away from Dana and her papers. He looks back at Jack. 
Once he and Robby have locked eyes Jack speaks. “I’m going to give Myrna your home address,” he deadpans so stone faced and stoically he can see Robby have the quickest flash of worry that he might actually do it.
“Oh come on I was joking!” Robby holds his hands out to his side. After a beat he gives the smallest shrug and lowers his voice. “Kind of.” 
“See,” Jack looks at Dana and waves towards Robby, “and I was going to offer to show you guys pictures and then Michael had to open his fucking mouth.”
“Woah woah woah!” Dana shakes her head and moves closer to Jack, holding her hands up in acquiescence. “Don’t punish me for his bullshit! I didn’t say anything. I just volunteered to babysit!”
Robby scoffs loudly. “Thank you Dana, for the solidarity. I’m really feeling it right now.”
“I actually do genuinely appreciate you offering, Dana. We may take you up on that soon. But she’s not going to let you do it for free,” Jack tells her in a much softer voice. He pulls his phone out and starts pulling up some photos to show her. 
“I can babysit too!” Robby offers. “I’m also a medical professional you know!” 
Jack flicks his eyes up to look at Robby, stone faced again. “That’s debatable.” 
“I made one joke! After being so supportive-”
“Shut up and get over here to look,” Jack cuts him off with a slight cock of his head to tell Robby he’s just fucking with him back and not actually upset. “And yes, we might ask you to babysit one day too.”
Jack brings up a few random photos of your son that he’s taken over the months while watching him, a few of him and your son. “God, he is just too fuckin cute,” Dana laughs. 
“The cutest.” Jack smiles fondly as he looks at your son. 
He brings up a few more of your son, a couple of you and your son. Then he hits Thursday. 
“This was on Thursday. It was his first birthday. We took him to the zoo.” Jack laughs softly as he looks at the photos. “He loves animals.” He offers his phone to Dana. “You can go through.” 
Dana does, her and Robby laughing sweetly at some of them and awing at others. She stops on a photo of a three of you that you’d had someone take. “Oh Jack,” Dana coos, “you guys look so happy. All three of you.” 
“Yeah.” Robby nods, smiles to himself. “And that little boy loves you.”
Jack flushes at that. He’s not really sure why but it makes him a little emotional. He watches as Dana flicks through some more photos. “He’s a year old, he’s hit the stage of liking anyone who gives him attention.” He has no idea why he’s downplaying it like he doesn’t absolutely fucking love the fact that your son loves him.
Jack doesn’t have to see Robby to know he’s rolling his eyes. It’s clear in his voice. “That is so not true Jack. And he loved you that first time we met him.” 
“He’s right,” Dana agrees, “babies can be pretty good judges of character. They’ll stay away from and cry around people they don’t like. And he did love you when we met. So just accept the boy loves you.” 
Jack just hums in response. It makes him smile though. He loves your son too. “And she’s beautiful, Jack. You can tell you make her happy.” Dana looks away from the phone and at Jack. 
“Yeah,” he murmurs, smiling as he looks down at you, “she makes me happy too.”
Dana and Robby share a look. “You know she’d be really happy for you Jack,” Robby says softly, talking about Jack’s wife. “She would want this for you.” 
“He’s right again,” Dana whispers, leaning into Jack and wrapping an arm around him and giving him his phone back. 
Jack leans into her in a silent thank you. “Two times in one day,” he says quietly, “someone better mark it on the calendar.” Robby huffs at him but Jack looks up and smirks at him for a second before giving Robby a genuine, slightly emotional smile and tipping his head at him. “Thank you, Robby.” Robby returns Jack’s smile with an identical one of his own. “And thank you,” he tells Dana as he bumps into her and returns her half hug. “Can we go run the board now?” 
“I think we can,” Robby nods, clapping Jack on the shoulder as they walk towards the door. “But hey,” Robby pauses by the door, opening it so Dana can walk out but looking at Jack who raises his eyebrows at him. “You weren’t serious about giving Myrna my address?”
Jack’s stoic look returns, not a hint of real emotion on his face. “Not today,” he deadpans and walks out. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“I feel ridiculous for being this emotional about something so simple. It’s just a haircut.” You shake your head but lean into Jack a bit more as you both stand and watch your son get his hair cut. 
He’s needed it. He has for a bit you’ve just struggled to bring yourself to do it and life got busy. But earlier this week you’d worked yourself up to it and asked Jack if the place he got his hair cut also did kids’ hair. He’d been a little surprised by the question, for some reason it felt kind of meaningful in some way that you wanted your son to go to his barber shop. He told himself that realistically it was probably just because you didn’t know where else to go, but you could have gone wherever you get your hair done, but maybe they just don’t take kids. 
In any event your son is here at Jack’s barber shop getting a haircut. And you had asked Jack to come with you again once you made the appointment. He’d told you that you didn’t need to ask again, of course he would. You’ve been together a little over a week now and things have been good. Steady and sweet. Lots of hugs and forehead kisses and side cuddles on the couch when you’ve both been home at the same time. 
“First haircut, though. It’s kind of a big deal,” Jack murmurs to you, hand rubbing your back. 
“I don’t even know why I’m like this.”
“You don’t need to know why. You’re allowed to just feel. But I’m guessing it’s because it’s a sign of him growing up.” Jack presses a kiss to the top of your head. He’s not super sure how much you’ve thought about the end result but he wants you to be prepared. “Sweetheart, you know this haircut is most likely going to make him look much older?”
You go still and then Jack hears you sniffle. “No!” Your voice gets adorably high-pitched like you’re fighting back tears and you turn further into Jack and rest your forehead in the crook of his shoulder while you let a couple of tears fall. 
“I’ve got you,” Jack says with a sad little laugh, holding you close and rubbing your back. “I just wanted you to be prepared.” 
“I didn’t even think about that, I was just so focused on the haircut generally,” you mumble into him.
“I kind of thought so,” he murmurs, wiping away the one or two stray tears when you pull your face from his shoulder.
“God,” you huff at yourself, “when I said come with me to be my shoulder to cry on I didn’t think I was going to mean it literally.” 
Jack chuckles. “That’s alright, it’s part of what I’m here for. As in right now and generally, you know?” 
You look up at him and smile. You know he means as your boyfriend. “I do, yeah.” 
Later that night you and Jack are in the kitchen grabbing some water to take to bed with you and putting away a couple of things that have dried on the dish rack. You’d just finished watching your current show on the couch together like you often do. Jack had been right. The haircut makes your son look older. You’d had a little moment about it after you guys left the shop but you were able to move past it pretty quickly. 
Something about the day and the night has felt different for you. Jack has been so understanding and sweet and supportive and perfect, not just over the last week and a bit you’ve been together officially but even the three months before that, just in a different capacity. And you want more with him. You want to express your thanks and affection through more than hugs and side cuddles on the couch and forehead and cheek kisses. You want more of Jack. And you feel ready.
He’s putting the last of the dishes away.
“Hey Jack?”
“Yeah, Sweetheart?” His eyebrows raise a little as he shuts the cabinet door and turns to look at you. 
“Thank you. For today. Coming with me and holding me while I cried.” You shrug with a soft laugh. “I’m sorry you have to do so much of that right now.”
“You’re welcome. I was very happy to come, thank you for inviting me.” He walks closer to you but lets you initiate any touching. You wrap your arms around his waist loosely as you look up at him, his arms doing the same. “You have nothing to apologize for though. And I don’t feel like I’m having to hold you while you cry particularly often. Even if I was, I wouldn’t care. I mean I would care in the sense that I fucking hate seeing you upset, but not at the fact that you needed and wanted me to hold you. And I’m pretty sure you’ve held me while I cried recently too.” He tilts his head and gives you a little smirk. 
“I would anytime you needed.” You take a step closer to him and wrap your arms around him a little tighter, one of Jack’s arms around your waist while his other hand rubs up and down your back. 
Jack laughs softly, eyes crinkling so perfectly you could scream. “Same for you.” 
He looks beautiful in the flickering light of the lit candle on the kitchen table. Unfairly handsome with the way his skin glows and with his molten eyes and kissable and suckable lips and salt and pepper stubble. Jack’s thinking the same thing about you in this light. How the flickering light makes your eyes look like they’re shimmering, how the shadows hit perfectly to highlight your features and how the soft glow of the candle makes you look radiant. 
“What are you thinking about so hard?” you ask him a little breathlessly, closing the last of the distance between your bodies so that you’re flush against each other chest to chest, both your and Jack’s arms tightening around each other.
“That you’re beautiful,” he murmurs. “Incredibly so.” 
The smile that pulls on your face is bashful. “Funny, I was just thinking how incredibly handsome you are.” You lean your head up and in towards his, eyes dropping down to his lips for a second before returning to his eyes. “And how I’d like you to kiss me.” 
This close you can just about see Jack’s pupils dilate a little further. God does he fucking want to kiss you. But he finds himself unable to just do it without checking. “We don’t have to do this. You do not owe me. Not for going with you or because you cried and I held you or for anything at all. Ever.”
You nod at him. 
Jack brings his head down towards yours, tilting it slightly, eyes focused on your lips for a moment before going back to your eyes. “Say it please.” 
“I know. I know I don’t owe you,” you whisper, “I promise. I want this. I’ve been wanting this. And I’m ready.” 
“Okay,” he whispers, leaning his head down and towards yours further. Your lips are just about touching now.
“Jack,” you breathe against his lips. 
He nods once. “Yeah? You sure?” 
You nod at him. “Please.”
Jack doesn’t need asked twice. And so in your candle lit kitchen you share your first kiss. He presses his lips to yours in an almost painfully sweet and chaste kiss, holding his lips against yours just the right amount of time before he pulls away to look you in the eye, check in, see if you liked it, if you want more, if that’s enough for the night. 
The look in your eyes tells him all he needs to know just as the look in his tells you. But Jack doesn’t have time to even move in to kiss you again because you’re already kissing him, one hand resting on his chest while the other comes to cup his jaw and keep him close. 
You’re stealing kiss after kiss from each other, most of them starting to linger. Starting to get just a touch hotter. No open mouths or tongue or hard sucking, just more urgent.
Even kissing you Jack is respectful, though you expected absolutely nothing less with how he is, how he treats you. He lets you set the pace, follows your lead. There are soft noises of appreciation from each of you, the sounds slipping out easily even with the relatively chaste kissing you’re doing. 
You can feel the uncertainty of Jack’s hands as they rest against your hips, thumbs rubbing soft circles over your shirt. You know it’s not that he’s not confident or is particularly self-conscious, but that he’s not sure what you’re okay with, where you’re okay with his hands being. It makes you smile against his lips. 
“What?” he asks against your lips as he smiles just because you are. 
“Nothing.” You take another kiss. “You’re just very cute.”
“Oh?” Jack kisses you again.
You nod a little. “Yeah.” It’s mumbled against his lips. Your hands leave his chest and jaw to find his and bring them up to hold your face, silently communicating to him that it’s okay for him to hold your face like that, touch you like that. 
Jack doesn’t get to appreciate his hands holding your face very long because you’re grabbing them again, wrapping them around you and using your hand to make his hand squeeze and grab at your hip and waist, bring one up to hold the back of your neck, kissing each other all the while. “Thank you,” he murmurs against your lips. And he means it. He’s very thankful for you showing him what you’re okay with. 
“Thank you,” you mumble back, continuing to kiss him.
The last kiss breaks naturally and you pull apart. You’re both panting softly, less because you’re out of breath and more because you’re just worked up for each other. 
“That was…” You feel a little lightheaded. 
“Yeah.” Like you, Jack is a little dizzy from kissing you. “That felt so good.” He’s struggling to come up with words.
“Felt so… right,” you laugh, the sound breathless and airy. 
“Good.” Jack nods and smiles at you.  
“Did it for you?” you ask, suddenly a touch self-conscious. “Feel right?”
“Oh yeah, Sweetheart,” he drawls the first two words with a quiet and shaky laugh that says everything you need to know about just how good and right kissing you felt, “that felt right.” 
It’s then you get a good enough flicker of light to really notice the flush of his cheeks and neck. “Good.” You lean up and kiss him again.
The two of you kiss for another minute or so before you naturally break apart again. But this time Jack rests his forehead against yours. 
“We should probably go get some sleep,” Jack whispers.
“I’m not opposed to doing this all night.” You smile. 
Jack’s breathy laugh fans across your lips. “Neither am I. Believe me, neither am I.”
“I know you’re right though.” You can’t help the way your bottom lip pushes out in the slightest pout. 
“I really wish I wasn’t,” Jack groans before pulling his forehead from yours. 
You giggle at him. “But you are.” 
You share smiles before actually grabbing the water you in part initially came into the kitchen for. You grab the monitor and Jack blows the candle out as he follows you into the hallway, illuminated only by the nightlight you have so neither you, nor Jack now, has to blind yourself if you need to get to your son in the middle of the night. 
Like always as of late, Jack walks you to your bedroom door. “Thank you for a great day, Jack. And night.” You lean up and give him a quick kiss. “Goodnight, Sweetheart.”
He smiles at you. “No, thank you. For the great day and fantastic night.” Jack winks at you with a small slightly smirked smile that makes you bite your lip and laugh to yourself, bashful again. He leans back down asking for one last kiss that you’re happy to give him, along with a hug. “Goodnight, Sweetheart.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jack’s finishing up his shift Wednesday morning around 8:30. A trauma had come in right at shift change, so he’s only just had the chance to run the board with Robby. He’s signing off on a few last things and then is out, looking forward to some sleep. 
He nods a quick goodbye to Dana and starts to leave the hub when he hears a baby crying.
But it’s not just a baby crying. Jack would recognize that cry anywhere. Ice starts to spread through his veins.
Your son is here and crying and he is decidedly not happy. It’s not his usual cry. And for Jack if your son is randomly showing up here in his ED and not happy and crying the way he is, it means something is wrong. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I hope it was okay and worth the wait and you enjoyed and I would love to hear your thoughts and comments! They give me much joy and inspiration! Liking, replies and reblogging are so so appreciated! My inbox is always open for thoughts, comments, and general screaming! As are my DMs! 🙂
Do we want more of these two? I have like seven thousand ideas for the two of them if more than just myself would like to see more of them lol. The next couple of parts would probably less time jumping like this one and then I think it would probably pick back up again. Let me know if you'd like more!
Thank you for all your support and for reading!! ♥️
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Quiet Part 2
Widower!Jack Abbott x Widow Single Mom!Reader
Part 1 can be found here!
23.9k || All my content is 18+ MDNI || CW: DOMESTIC JACK WITH READER'S BABY; Shy!Reader; Jack was in the army; reader's husband was in the army and died while deployed; discussions of loss of spouse; discussion of the death of Jack’s wife; suicidal ideation; briefest mention of thought of murder suicide (NOT directed at reader, in the context of Jack thinking about the guy who killed his wife, literally a single sentence); discussion of Jack’s injury; reference to death of parents (not Jack’s or Reader’s); grief; like lots of grief; guilt; so much fucking guilt for Jack and Reader; self hate for a bit for both Reader and Jack; baby is a boy but is not named; a bird; reference to past pregnancy, labor and delivery; crying; DTR conversation; thoughts about sex; angst; no use of Y/N or related
Summary: You and Jack define your relationship and work through more grief and guilt together.
AN: Twenty years later here we are with Part 2. Sorry about that 😅. Hopefully it was worth the wait. I don't know how I really feel about this (I know exactly how I feel and it's not fantastic but when is it ever). This is different from Part 1 in that there is less time jumping, but I think as they now are truly establishing their relationship and not working towards having one it makes sense. We also see considerably more emotion and grappling from Jack in this part. I considered doing a much more zoomed out kind of story with them but I like exploring emotions and such apparently so I didn't keep it as kind of quick to develop and move through their life as I originally thought I would. I don't know if that's good or bad, but it's reality lol. Again, it's kind of emotional but sweet in the beginning, and middle, but it gets funnier and fluffier (I hope) at the end. Anyway I hope you enjoy and thank you for reading!♥️
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“I’m so sorry,” you murmur to Jack as you pull away from him a little. “I really thought I was ready.”
You and Jack have been home for a few hours now, sitting on the couch and starting a new series together. Your son is out hard from his big birthday adventures, didn’t even stir as Jack changed him into some pajamas and put him down for the night while you trimmed the end of the rose Jack gave you and put it in a slim glass vase. 
You’d spent most of your time on the couch leaning against Jack. You like being close to him, like feeling him next to you, warm and sturdy and soft and safe and real and alive. The little voice in the back of your mind telling you this was wrong and to think of your husband was still there, and at times you did feel some confliction, but with the help of your therapist and time that voice had become nothing but a whisper most of the time and more easily dealt with if it got a little louder. 
By the time whatever platform it is asked whether you were still watching Jack had his arm around your shoulders and you were pressed firmly against his side with your head resting against his shoulder and chest, one hand in your lap and the other resting on the lower part of his thigh. You’re in that same position now only you’re both turned in towards each other a bit more and the hand that was in your lap is cupping Jack’s face, your head no longer resting on him. 
When he’d asked if you wanted to watch another episode or head to bed you’d responded by asking to kiss him. Jack had eyed you carefully as he said of course, and that he would like that, but only if you were ready. And you were so sure that you were until you lent in to do it. Hence your apology.
Jack shakes his head a little, leans into your palm where it’s still cupping the side of his face. “Why are you apologizing? It’s okay to not be ready. I’m happy you told me and didn’t push yourself to do something you weren’t ready for. That’s what I want.” 
“No, I know.” You sigh and look down, thumb brushing over Jack’s cheek absentmindedly. “I just feel bad because earlier on our way back I said I was ready for this, for there to be an us, and maybe a little more and now I’m not ready for a little more.”
“I know it’s not easy and me saying this doesn’t make it all better, but please try not to feel bad. It’s okay. And I mean it.” Jack watches you carefully to gauge your reaction and make sure he’s not overstepping as he sets his hand on top of yours and squeezes gently to get you to look at him again. You do, and it hurts him to see how frustrated and upset with yourself you look. He knows how hard this all is. How easy it is to feel like you’re being disloyal. How hard it is to be vulnerable again. He wishes he could make it better for you, take away your struggle because he doesn’t like seeing you struggling and the concomitant hurting. “I’m glad you told me and listened to yourself. I want you to truly be ready for every step of this. I’m not going anywhere just because you say you’re ready for something and then the moment comes and you’re not. You don’t owe me anything, ever.”
“I know,” you mumble, looking away from him. “I just wanted to be ready. I want to kiss you, I really do. I want to give you that, give myself that. I just…” You sigh and pull your hand from his cheek, resting it back in your lap. You’re disappointed in yourself even though you know you shouldn’t be. You did a lot today, gave Jack and yourself a lot. You started a relationship for christ’s sake. You know he has no expectations of you but for some reason you apparently have them of yourself and holding hands and starting this with him and kind of cuddling him on the couch apparently don’t meet them. “I don’t know. I don’t know why it’s so hard.” 
Jack shakes his head slowly. “It was for me too at the beginning. I’m not sure I could articulate why either, but I understand, I promise.”
“I feel like I’ve ruined an otherwise great day.” You look up at him, eyes a little glassy. “And I want this Jack, I’m ready for this. For us to be in a relationship exclusively… for us to be a couple. I want that. A lot.” 
“Hey,” he draws the word out as he tilts his head at you, “you haven’t ruined anything. I promise. I had a great day. The best day I’ve had in a long, long fucking time. I’m really glad you invited me.” He tentatively grabs your hand from your lap and laces your fingers together. “I want that a lot too, to be in a relationship with you, exclusively. To be a couple. So let’s do it, yeah?”
You squeeze his hand, eyes rounded more than usual and brows pulled together. You can’t let go of this undefined concern you have. You’re happy, you genuinely are. Butterflies flutter away in your stomach at the thought of finally being with Jack and at the way he’s looking at you, small, excited smile and sparkling eyes. Like you just gave him some huge gift. It feels like you’ve given him barely anything. “Yeah, let’s do it.” You nod, give him a small smile and laugh a little, almost embarrassed for some reason. Jack is just so handsome and such a good man and you’re having such a vulnerable conversation and admitting your feelings for him. And even though you have before you still find yourself feeling like a teenager almost. “We’re a couple.”
Jack’s smile widens and he nods. “We’re a couple.” He leans forward just slightly before he stops himself. If you were ready he’d have leaned in and kissed you then. And if he’s honest with himself he is disappointed a little bit, but not with you, just that he can’t make you feel good like that, can’t show you how happy he is through a kiss, can’t claim you like that. Because he’s possessive already. He feels it, hard. Harder than he should this early on maybe. 
He looks at you so intensely, is clearly over the moon about this. You don’t realize you’re looking at him the same way, that he can tell how happy you are, how much you want this. 
You groan a little but keep your smile as you let your head fall against the side of his chest. “What?” he laughs softly. He lets his other hand come down and rub your back a little, hyper focused for just a second to gauge your reaction and make sure this is okay. He struggles with the line between asking and trying things because he doesn’t want to make you feel like he’s afraid to touch you, but at the same time he wants to be respectful and not make you uncomfortable.
You shrug against him. “I don’t know. I just feel like… a teenager learning her crush likes her back,” you laugh a little, words slightly mumbled against him. “And I guess I don’t understand it. Why you want me when I come with so much… baggage. And a baby.” 
Jack hums a little and you can feel the vibrations. It makes you shiver. Makes you imagine feeling them in a different context, your head resting on his chest after sex when he hums at something you say or how you run your hand over the part of his chest your head isn’t occupying as you curl into him. “Well, I think our baggage matches. Same pattern, maybe a different color since it’s not exactly the same. Or what is it the youths say these days. Different font.” 
You snort a laugh against him and pull back to look at him. “The youths? Different font?”
“What?” he laughs. “We get a lot of new grads on night shift. They teach me their lingo, keep me up to date and cool.” 
You give him a lopsided smile and tilt your head as you raise your eyebrows slightly. “Lingo?” 
Jack shakes his head. “I never said they were replacing what I grew up with.” He smirks at you. “And back to your point, you come with a baby and I come with baggage and missing a foot with extra trauma and PTSD from that. We all have our things. I want you because you’re beautiful, on the outside yes, but on the inside too. You’re a beautiful person. Caring, selfless to a fault sometimes, giving, funny, adorable, empathetic, so empathetic I know it makes you hurt at times, strong, you have to be the strongest person I know-”
“Jack,” you cut him off, unable to stomach anymore compliments that part of you disagrees with. “Thank you.” You smile and give a breathy laugh. “I’m not sure I understand it still, but… I know how genuine you are.”
He nods slowly. “Can I admit something? It might freak you out and if it does you can tell me to shut up or to leave and never come back-”
“Yes, and I very much doubt I’ll react like that.” You give him a knowing smile. 
Jack grimaces slightly, not quite in disbelief but in a you-haven’t-heard-what-I’m-about-to-say kind of way. He takes a deep breath and then lets it out. “I think we were supposed to meet. I never believed in fate or anything like that but then I saw you,” he shakes his head a little and looks away from you. “I saw you and I was drawn to you. It felt like I was supposed to know you. And then when I walked into the room with you it felt like I’d known you forever. You were familiar. It felt like I knew you’d understand me even if I didn’t know why at the time. And you do. Not just because we’re both widows but,” he shrugs, “you just get me. And I still feel all of that today. I have every day since we met.” 
He forces himself to look back up at you, stomach churning at the thought of seeing your reaction. Because he gets how that sounds, how it could make him look almost obsessive or kind of insane. But you’re just smiling softly at him. And your heart and your mind and your lips ache to kiss him, but you know that emotionally you’re not there. That it would be too much all in one day. 
“I felt the same thing,” you admit. Jack’s eyebrows raise and his head pulls back a little at the shock. He’d felt it in the room that day, like you felt whatever was between the two of you too, but he’d since convinced himself that he was projecting and just wanted you to feel it so he was telling himself it felt like you recognized it too. But you apparently really had. “It kind of freaked me out with how exhausted and scared and emotional I was,” you laugh quietly. “But believe me, I felt it too. Like we were supposed to know each other and were meeting for a reason. And believe me, my therapist and I have talked about it and then some because it was hard for me at first. The idea of this first sight kind of thing.”
“Really?” he whispers. 
“Really.” You nod. You squeeze Jack’s hand and drop your eyes. You hate that you can’t kiss him, don’t understand why you don’t feel ready for that. It’s just a kiss. One that you want. You hate your brain for it, for allowing your grief to still control you. Deep down you know it’s not that easy and you know that the kiss is a big deal because it’s with Jack and it’s going to mean something. It’s going to make you feel so many things. Things you felt for your husband. You need him to know though. That you do want him physically. “I really want to kiss you right now. I just want you to know that. That I do want to kiss you. And want more with you, physically. I wish that I was ready. I wish I could give you more physically so this felt like a real relationship.”
Jack can hear the emotion in your voice. He knows you’re probably closer to tears than you want him to know and that you’re beating yourself up pretty badly inside. He hates it. “Hey,” he says softly, slipping his hand out of yours and using his index finger to tilt your head back up to look at him when you don’t resist. He moves his hand up so that it cups your cheek. “This okay?” His eyes dart around your face looking for any hesitation or sign of distress as you nod and lean into his hand a bit. “First, I think we do more physical stuff than you think. Holding hands. Kind of cuddling on the couch. That’s all physical. But second, and more importantly, the physical stuff isn’t what makes or defines our relationship, yeah? You’re putting too much pressure on yourself I think. Probably being pretty mean to yourself. I don’t need to be able to kiss you to feel like I’m in a real relationship with you. I don’t need anything physical in particular to feel like that. Do you?”
“No.” You shake your head and then shrug a little. “But, I don’t know, I just think that sometimes for men it can be different maybe.”
Jack smiles at you. “Guess I’m not every man,” he teases with a little smirk. His heart soars when it makes you laugh a little. “What I need to know that I’m in a relationship with you is to know that you want to be in one with me, that you consider us to be in one, that you know I’m here for you for anything and everything, that I want you to tell me everything, that you know there is no judgment from me, and that you know that I know the same is true for you towards me. The physical stuff will come with time as you feel more ready. It doesn’t matter how long it takes. I’m content and happy in this relationship just as it is now. I promise. And I meant it too. You don’t owe me anything. You don’t need to give me anything in a physical sense for me to be happy or feel secure in our relationship.”
“I know,” you whisper. “I do, I promise. And I don’t need it to be happy or secure either but I want it. And I know you want it too.”
Jack squeezes your face softly and lets out a breath as he looks away from you for a second. You know he’s conflicted. He knows you know. It’s hard to formulate an answer because the last thing he wants is for you to feel pressure or like he’s just going to be in this relationship waiting around for the day you can kiss and makeout and have sex and then he’ll become really invested. But he also can’t lie to you and say he doesn’t want you. 
He returns his eyes to yours and hopes his reflect how genuine and honest he’s being. “Of course I want it. Of course I want you. Look at you.” Jack’s eyes trail over all of your body he can see in this position and the way he looks at you feels unholy in a way, needy and lusting and reverent. So incredibly reverent. You already know when you do get there Jack is going to worship you. He already looks like he’s ready to get on his knees just for the opportunity to gaze upon you, clothed or unclothed. “I’m not going to lie to you and say I don’t. But I need you to know I’m not going to be in this relationship just sitting around waiting for the day we can do more and have sex and then I’ll become truly invested. I’m all in now. I’m invested in this, in us and our relationship now. Okay?”
“Yes, but, Jack,” you shake your head at him a little, look desperate for him to hear and believe you, “please don’t think I doubted that for a second. Your commitment and investment. That’s not what I meant or how I meant to make it seem because I wouldn’t be ready and I wouldn’t be doing this with you if I felt like that for a second, I promise.”
“Hey, I didn’t think you did,” he soothes, thumb brushing over your cheek. “I just needed to say it for myself and so that you heard it explicitly from me.”
“Okay. Good.” You nod. “Good. I’m sorry, I know I’m making this a big deal and way more complicated and long of a conversation than it needed to be.”
“Please don’t apologize. You’re not doing any of that. We’re just having a conversation and communicating so we both know where we are. That’s healthy. And you voicing your worries and anxieties and your thoughts, that’s important. That’s what I want. I want to hear all of that kind of stuff.” He smiles at you, just a hint of a smirking edge. “I want to be there for my girlfriend, yeah?”
You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding at girlfriend. You knew that’s what you are, what you defined during this conversation but hearing it is different. It makes your heart race. “Yeah.” There’s barely any substance to the word with how breathed out it is and your reaction to the word makes Jack chuckle to himself a bit. You really are adorable. 
He knows this next question is going to fluster you further, but it’s an important one for him so that he doesn’t cross a line. “If you know, and it’s okay if you need a bit to think about it, how are you feeling about pet names? Being called one.” 
“Oh.” You blink at him. “I um…” You look down at your lap, suddenly even shyer than usual somehow with Jack’s intense gaze flustering you further. You don’t know what you were expecting him to ask but you guess it wasn’t that. It makes your brain a little fuzzier as you try to figure it out. You can’t believe Jack wants to call you a pet name. It’s sweet. And the way he asked and didn’t just do it is even sweeter. Toothache sweet. “Yes, yeah.” You nod at him and clear your throat, looking back into his eyes. “I’m okay with them. I can’t believe you want to call me one,” you laugh softly but incredulously, “but, um yeah. Yeah, I would like that. And you? Would you, or how, how do you feel? About them. Pet names.”
Jack beams at you, nodding a little. “I have to tell you that you’re so adorable when you’re flustered like this. When you get a little shyer on me.” His voice is lower than it normally is and Jack forces himself to keep looking into your eyes and not to glance down at your lips. He lets his words linger for a few seconds before clearing his throat and answering your question. “I would like that too. If you’re ready to use one with me, and it’s okay if you’re not.” You shake your head at him to indicate he doesn’t need to worry about that. That you are ready. 
“You have to tell me the one, though.” You cock your head at him, eyebrows pulling together in confusion. Jack swallows hard, his heart rate picking up. It’s always hard, bringing this side of things up. And he knows it’s liable to send you into a bit of a spiral, to shove your loss and your grief in your face, and on today of all days. He hates it. But not knowing might lead him to inadvertently hurt you worse one day. “The one I’m not allowed to call you because it belongs to you and your husband.” 
“Oh,” you say again, breathe it out this time as your eyes find the folded American flag in its box on display. You didn’t even think about that. And you are so so glad that Jack did because you know if he accidentally called you that one it would have sent you spiraling so hard. Just the question has your mind spinning a little because now it’s like a montage in your head, it’s all you can hear. Your husband calling you Angel. Jack knows what’s happening, what’s playing out in your mind. He recognizes the specific glaze to your eyes. And it’s happening for him too a bit. A montage of his wife calling him Darling. Always Darling. Almost never Jack. 
Jack’s hand pulling away from your face to take your hand again and squeezing it is what brings you back. You bring your eyes back to his. “Angel,” you whisper. 
He nods. “Darling,” he whispers back. You know what he means. That’s his one. 
You feel the tears stinging your eyes but you huff a laugh instead of cry. Jack’s eyebrows raise slightly. “I’m just realizing how fucked up that is. I never thought about it before. Angel. He called me Angel and then he went off and fucking died and became one if you believe in that shit.” You click your tongue behind your teeth as the tears start to fall. Because he died. Because he called you Angel. Because it’s your son’s first birthday and he isn’t here. Because you’re with Jack and you’re happy and it suddenly feels so wrong even though you know it’s what he would want. “Fucking Angel,” you whisper as you devolve into quiet tears. 
You’re not even fully conscious of doing it because it’s just so natural and feels so right. You crawl fully into Jack’s lap and curl into him, one arm wrapping around his neck and your other hand fisting at his shirt as you bury your face in his neck and slowly devolve into quiet and muffled sobs. 
The move shocks Jack into complete stillness for a moment. It’s by far the closest the two of you have ever been, the most physically intimate. And he’s so aware that you’re this close and sobbing into him over your dead husband. He feels responsible for your sobs too. He brought it up, forced you to think about it. He just didn’t want to call you the wrong thing. 
His mind spins as he tries to decide what to do. Is it taking advantage of you and your completely vulnerable state somehow if he reciprocates your touch right now? Do you want his touch? Would it be comforting? Will you think it means something negative if he doesn’t touch you? You wouldn’t have climbed into his lap and be clinging to him if you weren’t okay with him touching you and weren’t seeking out comfort from him, right? 
Jack wraps his arms around you slowly, paying close attention to see if you stiffen even slightly or show some other sign of discomfort. He lets one hand rest on your back and the other over your hair on the back of your head to hold you close. When you cling to him tighter in response he tightens his grip around you in turn, hoping the pressure will help ground you. “I know,” he murmurs. “I know.” 
You hate this. Hate being like this and asking Jack to deal with it and intruding on his space and ruining everything with your tears. But Jack is comfort. He’s your boyfriend now and he understands the reason you’re sobbing, the pain behind it. The grief. You trust him with this side of yourself, want his comforting touch and the grounding he offers even as your heart breaks for your husband and what you lost. You didn’t mean for this to happen and you know Jack feels responsible but it’s not his fault. He didn’t make it happen, didn’t make you feel like this. 
“I’m sorry,” you choke out against his neck in between hiccupped sobs. You immediately feel him shaking his head, hold you a little closer. 
“You have nothing to be sorry for.” He keeps his voice low, starts rubbing your back. “It’s okay. Let yourself feel it. I’ve got you.” Jack rocks you gently. “Let it all out. I understand. And you’re okay, you’re allowed to feel these feelings with me, okay?”
The way he knows exactly what to say makes you sob harder for a moment as you take every whispered reassurance to heart. “It’s so unfair Jack,” you sniffle against him before letting out a more audible sob, “for both of us, it’s so unfair. I hate it, I hate it so much. And, and I wish I could make it a little better for you like you, like you do for me. I’m so-sorry.”
Jack barely has time to process the stinging in his eyes before tears of his own are sliding down his face. For all of it. For you. For your loss. For his wife. For his loss. For how right you are, how un-fucking-fair the world is. For how you think you don’t make it a little better for him. 
“It is,” he whispers, “it’s so fucking unfair.” Jack takes in his own shuddery breath. “And you do, you do make it a little better. I promise.” He sniffles, goes to kiss the top of your head but stops himself, nuzzles his nose against you instead. 
It takes a bit longer for you to cry yourself out. Jack’s tears stopped well before yours and he never stopped whispering to you, never stopped holding you. Never made you feel like it was too much. Like you were too much. Like he needed this to stop and you to get out of his arms and leave him alone. Never rushed you.
And he keeps holding you once you stop crying, his hand still rubbing your back and the other still holding the back of your head to keep you close to him. You get to a point where you’re mostly quiet, only the occasional sharp stuttery breath. “I’m sorry,” you mumble against Jack’s neck. “That was unfair of me.”
He shakes his head. “No it wasn’t. You needed to let out some emotion. That’s part of what I’m here for, to hold you through that.” 
You shrug in his arms. “I don’t want you to think you caused it. By asking. I’m glad you asked.” You shift a little, pulling your head from his neck and resting the side of it in the crook of his shoulder, his hand on the back of your head quickly wiping the remnants of his tears and then coming down to wrap around you. “I… I don’t even know what that was. Or why it happened. It just does sometimes.” 
“It does for me too,” Jack murmurs. “And you don’t need to know what it was or why it happened. It can just happen.” 
It’s then you can hear the remnants of tears in Jack’s voice and the realization you made him cry is enough to bring you back to the brink of tears. “I’m sorry for making you cry and hurt.” Your whisper is so low he barely catches it. 
“You didn’t,” he says firmly, trying to emphasize that it wasn’t you. “You didn’t anymore than I made you cry and hurt.” He shrugs. “The world did,” he says simply.
There’s a lot more you want to say to that but you don’t. Because it doesn’t really matter at the end of the day. It happened. It’s the past now. You cried clinging to each other on your couch and made it to the other side of that overwhelming grief together. All you want is to be closer to Jack somehow. 
You shift again, pulling your head away from Jack’s body so that you can look at each other, his arms loosening around you automatically so that you’re free to move, to get off him if you want. But you don’t want that. 
“Jack?” Your voice is a little shaky and it feels so dumb to have it be shaky over what you’re about to ask him to do. It’s barely anything but for some reason it feels huge right now.
“Yeah?”
“Will you kiss my forehead?”
His eyebrows raise. It feels huge for him too right now. Almost as intimate as kissing your lips. Jack’s eyes search yours. “You sure?” 
He has to check. Has to make sure you really do want it and are ready for it. You nod, smile at him and his concern and need to check softly. He cares about you so much. Cares about your relationship so much. Doesn’t want to hurt you or ruin anything. “I am. I want it a lot. If you do.”
“Yeah, okay,” he whispers a little breathlessly. “Yeah, I want it too.”
He moves slowly, giving you time to pull away and change your mind. His hands move to your neck, thumbs along your jaw and he nods with slightly raised brows, asking if it’s okay. You nod a little and lean closer into him.
Both your and Jack’s eyes flutter closed when his lips make contact with your forehead. He doesn’t linger with this kiss, just plants a kiss on your forehead and pulls back a bit to see how you react and if you pull away. When he sees a smile ghost your lips and you stay where you are he leans back in for another and lets this one linger, lips pressed to the soft skin of your forehead for a good thirty seconds before he pulls away. 
You let your eyes flutter back open. “Thank you. I, I liked that. If you ever wanted to do it again. That would be okay with me.”
Jack gives you a crooked smile, gaze as intense as ever. “I like that too. And I would like to do it again, yeah.”
You nod at him. “Good,” you whisper. Your eyes leave his and track the tear stains on his cheek and neck until you see the mess of his neck and shirt that you made and cringe. “I’m so sorry I got you and your shirt all snotty and gross.” 
Jack chuckles. “I’m a doctor. That doesn’t phase me for a second. It’s one of the most benign bodily fluids to get on me.”
“Still.” A rather large yawn hits you and you cover your mouth, shaking your head. “I’m so sorry, that just came out of nowhere.” 
Seeing you yawn makes Jack yawn of course and he similarly covers his mouth. “It’s been a long day and crying can make you tired.” Jack lets his hand rest on your hip, watching you intently to see how you react. “You should get to bed and get some sleep as much as I’d love to stay out here and talk with you all night.” He squeezes your hip gently. 
“Probably, yeah.” You yawn again, this one not quite as big. “Definitely, apparently,” you laugh. “You should get some sleep too.”
Jack laughs with you. “Yeah, probably I should.” He offers you his hand to hold as you slide off him and stand up, grabbing the baby monitor. Once you take a step away he stands up behind you, rests his hand on your lower back as he walks you over to your bedroom door. “I had a really great day. Thank you for inviting me to spend it with you. And um,” Jack blushes again and looks away from you for a second. You have to bite your lip at it as you smile because it’s so cute and you can’t believe talking to you, anything related to you, is making him blush. He looks so cute flustered. You get it. Why he said it earlier. “I’m,” Jack clears his throat as he looks back at you, cheeks still a little tinged with pink. “I’m really happy about us.”
You beam at Jack. You know you must look ridiculous, so overly excited and happy. The whole thing is kind of surreal and even though you’re in your house in front of your bedroom door and Jack’s about to walk down the hall and into the guest room it feels like him dropping you off at your front door after a first date. “I am too.” His words echo in your mind and it’s a little bold for you but you’re just following him really. “I have to tell you that you’re so adorable when you’re flustered like this. When you get a little shy on me.”
Jack laughs, shaking his head at you. His blush deepens and you really could scream at how adorable he is. “Yeah, well, you have that effect on me. You wanna talk about feeling like a teenager.” He rolls his eyes at himself playfully. 
“I totally get it,” you giggle. You get slightly more serious, the giggle fading away while the huge, what you’re sure must be at least slightly goofy, smile doesn’t leave your face. Jack’s smiling too though, just as happy and excited as you. “Are you going to tell Robby and Dana?”
“Oh,” Jack scoffs a laugh and runs a hand through his hair. It shouldn’t make your heart stutter the way it does. “I don’t think I’ll even have to. They’ll just know. Just from looking at me the next time they bring you up. Which will be the next time I see them.” He shakes his head at them and then looks back at you, cheeks a little pink again, that boyish, slightly flustered smile gracing his face. “Are you okay if I show them pictures? Of him? And uh, you and him? And all of us?”
“Oh, um, yeah. Yeah, of course.” Now you’re the one flustered thinking about Jack wanting to show you and your son off. 
“Thank you. I know they’ll enjoy seeing him. Anyway,” he nods at you, “I should let you get some sleep.”
“Can we hug?” You blurt out before Jack can say anything else. 
It catches Jack off guard so it takes a second to process, but his smile widens as it does. “Of course we can, if you’re ready for that. I would like that.” 
You nod. “I am. Not really that much different from the couch, is it? Except I won’t be sobbing into you this time.” You laugh breathlessly just at the thought of hugging him and him wanting to hug you. 
“True,” Jack laughs softly with you. “If you need to cry again you can of course. And I’m going to let you lead, okay? Show me how tightly you want it. And if a hand goes somewhere you don’t like or I do something you don’t like please tell me right away.” 
“I will,” you assure him, “but I trust you and I know nothing like that will happen.”
He nods at you and steps closer, holding his arms out a bit so you can wrap yours around him. You hug him tight as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you in close to him. You nuzzle your face against his chest and take in several deep breaths through your nose to savor his scent before resting the side of your head on his chest and enjoying the sound of his heart beating and the feeling of his arms holding you, warm and strong and safe. Half of you wants to ask him for his shirt to sleep in but you know you’re not there, that the smell of another man in your bed would be a little too much for you right now. 
Jack nuzzles his nose in your hair, absentmindedly kisses the top of your head occasionally because he can do that now. And he can tell you like it by the way you squeeze him a little tighter when he does. You feel perfect in his arms and holding you like this makes his heart glow in a way it hasn’t in a long, long time. He feels happy and content in a way he wasn’t sure he would ever feel again after his wife.  
You could both stay like this for hours. But Jack knows you’re exhausted. Knows you have to work tomorrow. He relaxes his arms and pulls away just slightly. It has the desired effect, you look up at him wide-eyed with a small smile, able to guess what’s coming next. 
Jack slides his hands up your sides and then brings them to hold your face gently, smiling down at you like you’re the only thing that exists in this moment. He leans down and presses the softest kiss to your forehead, lets it linger as he tries to use the kiss to say thank you and he’s so happy because of you and he can’t believe you’re his girlfriend and he’ll wait as long as you need and he cares about you and you’re so incredibly important to him. He pulls his lips from your forehead eventually, only to bring them back down and give you a couple more kisses there, letting the last one linger just a little before his lips brush against your skin as he murmurs to you. “Goodnight, Sweetheart.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A day later Jack glances at the baby monitor when he hears your son stir a little. 
He shouldn’t be waking up yet, he didn’t go down that long ago and he is normally a very good napper. A good sleeper in general. True to form he just shifts around a little and then is back out. 
It makes Jack smile and laugh to himself as he resumes doing the dishes. Almost everything is in the now-running dishwasher but there are a few things that can’t go in and he’s giving your son’s highchair tray a good scrub. 
It’s Friday and Jack’s on a solid string of off days and so is home with your son. A kid at daycare is sick and honestly, Jack just likes being with your son, and so anymore it’s more common for your son to be with Jack than at daycare when Jack is off. You’re both looking forward to having the weekend together, especially now that you’re together. It’ll be your first weekend as a couple. You have absolutely no plans, but both of you kind of like that. 
As he scrubs Jack tries to formulate a plan to get you to let him take the monitor tonight so that he can get up with your son and you can sleep in tomorrow. He knows you’re going to fight him on it, but he wants to do it for you. He’ll just have to make sure he’s the one who grabs it when you guys get up to go to bed. 
The thought crosses his mind that maybe it’ll be a moot point. Maybe you’ll invite him to sleep in your bed with you. Just to sleep and be close, not for anything else and not even naked. But that thought quickly morphs into kicking himself mentally, asking himself why the actual fuck he’s thinking about that when you aren’t even ready to kiss and have been a couple for less than 24 fucking hours. 
He knows it’s because he wants that closeness with you. Wants to basically hug you all night. He would absolutely never pressure you into doing so, it’s just why he’s thinking about it. Thinking about your warm skin against his, your breathing slow and soft as you sleep curled into him, the little sounds you’d make in your sleep, how peaceful you’d look, and god the sound of your sleepy voice in the morning, spoken more into his chest than anything as you nuzzle against him and try to hide from the light and ask for five more minutes. 
No. Just no, Jack tells himself. He needs to stop. It feels wrong on so many levels to think about you like that, even though it’s not sexual. If only Jack knew the way you were miles away daydreaming in your office about effectively the same thing and about kissing him. 
He turns his thoughts elsewhere. What to make for dinner. He likes cooking for you and your son. He likes watching your face when you take first bites and is borderline addicted to the smiles you give him, the soft hums you give him that are really almost moans when you particularly like something, the praise of ‘this is amazing Jack’ and ‘god you really outdid yourself tonight’ and ‘fuck that’s good’ and ‘you spoil me’ and ‘this is incredible Jack, thank you for cooking’ you give him. 
But what to make? He could do something he’s made before and knows you like. He could try something new. Or you could get takeout. Make it kind of a mini-date at home. He knows your favorite places and dishes by now and he could wait until you get home to order, ask what place you’d prefer. Depending on how long your son naps and what kind of mood he’s in the three of you could potentially go out somewhere. But you did that last night. So maybe him making something is actually better. So he circles back to the question. What to make?  
While he’s letting ideas for dinner percolate in the back of his mind he thinks about how he needs to set up something so that you can meet Robby and Dana. He wants you to meet them of course but they’re also the two best potential babysitters if you end up liking them and feeling like you can trust them. And you’re going to need one if he’s going to ever be able to take you out on a real date. He loves doing stuff as the three of you, yes, but he still wants to date you. Just you. Do something with you that you guys couldn’t do with your son. Focus on each other.
Jack knows it’ll be hard for you to leave your son and he’s not going to force the issue of course, but he hopes that having a nurse or a doctor as a sitter will help allay at least some of your fears. He should probably think of a good date idea before bringing it up though. 
What if he had you cook with him tonight? If you wanted. Almost like a little cooking class date, just at home. You always talk about wanting to become a better cook. That could be fun right? Your son could watch from his highchair or Jack could baby-wear him with a wrap or the carrier. Depending on how late you get home and how early your son goes down for the night and how late you’re okay eating your son might even be asleep by then. Unlikely but not impossible. 
As he finishes the dishes he decides that he’ll go pick something to make and get a list of things to buy at the store. Then once your son is awake from his nap and maybe had a snack they can walk to the store together, maybe drive depending on how much is needed. 
Jack grabs the clean dish towel to dry his hands. And that’s when he realizes it. When he feels it. Or rather doesn’t feel it. His eyes snap to his left hand. 
No wedding ring. 
Jack’s stomach drops, fingers and toes going cold while adrenaline floods his system and shoves him right into fight or flight, breathing and heart rate picking up. He spins back to the sink, praying that he’ll find his ring resting in the sink or on the grate of the one side and that it didn’t slide down into the pipe on the garbage disposal side. Or that he didn’t lose it somewhere else and is just now noticing. How could he have not fucking noticed the second it came off?
A short burst of relief floods him when he finds it sitting against the grate. He’s quick to pick it up and hold it in the palm of his hand, stare down at it. He still can’t believe himself. That he didn’t feel it when it came off. He knows he was in his head and thinking but still. That’s his wedding ring. That’s her. One of a few things he has left of her and it came off and he didn’t feel it. The ring he’s worn every day for how many years now? And he didn’t fucking feel it come off. He’s the worst, his brain tells him as he slips into mentally berating himself. 
And the thing is, Jack has known he needs to take off his ring, especially now that you’re ready and in a relationship and together. He’s been mentally preparing for it and thinking about it. He’s been trying to work his way up to it. He was hoping to do it this weekend at some point. 
He never expected to not have a choice. For it to slip off while doing the dishes. He’s been doing the dishes for the past five years, scrubbing his hands at work for the past five years and nothing. It never came off. And he knows he does have a choice. He knows he could slip it back on right now. 
But instead he just stares at it in his palm. 
He doesn’t know what to do. It needed to come off. But he wanted to take it off. Have it be an intentional thing. Be talking to her in his mind when he did it, reassuring himself and her that it’s not that he doesn’t love her anymore because he does, he always will. And instead it came off and he didn’t notice. What does that tell her? But if he puts it back on how long will it be until he can bring himself to take it off again? Was he ever really going to work up to taking it off or did something like this need to happen? Is this a sign from the universe? Did it happen on purpose?
A tapping sound on the glass of the window behind the sink interrupts Jack’s thoughts. He looks up and there’s no fucking way this is real. A bird is there on the windowsill looking back at him and tilting its head back and forth at him how birds do. It’s not just any bird though. 
It’s a mourning dove. His wife’s favorite. 
The irony of the name was not lost on him the first time he saw one after she died. It was years ago. Five and a bit years ago. At her funeral. One had landed on her casket and Jack had come a little unglued for a minute, ended up squeezing Robby’s forearm so tight it was bruised for a couple of weeks. 
Since then they’ve become a little thing for him. He tells himself it’s silly, but he feels like they’re her in a way. A kind of manifestation of her spirit visiting him. Because he’s only seen them a few times since then and each of those times has been poignant. A couple of times when he visited her grave. A few times on the roof at work when his feet got a little too close to the ledge. Once after he kissed a woman other than her for the first time after her death. And now that he really thinks about it he realizes that one landed on the ground in front of him as he waited to cross the street on his way to work on the day he met you. 
He looks back down at his wedding ring and picks it up with his right hand, holds his left hand out as he thinks about putting it back on. More tapping on the glass and that familiar coo has him focusing back on the dove. It’s beautiful. Just like she was. It has a unique line of black feathers just above one of its eyes. It makes the usual blue ring that circles a mourning dove’s eye pop even more. 
It has to mean something, Jack tells himself. Except that’s crazy, right? It’s just a bird on a windowsill. It doesn’t mean it’s her visiting and trying to tell him something.
Jack stares back at it. It feels like a sign. All of it. His ring slipping off while doing the dishes at your house when it hasn’t before in over five years of doing dishes. The dove appearing. It feels like her telling him that it’s okay. It’s okay to not wear his ring. It’s okay to be with you. It feels like her blessing. 
He closes his right hand around his ring and the dove looks at him for a few more seconds, gives him a couple more coos before it flies off leaving Jack standing there trying to process everything that’s happened in the last five minutes. But then his mind goes blank for a moment and there’s nothing but the feeling of his wedding ring pressing into the palm of his right hand. 
Jack’s turning so his back is against the base cabinets as he slides to the floor, tears blurring his vision as it slams into him and consumes him. The memory of that ring going on his finger. Her face and how excited she was. How beautiful she looked in her white dress with that veil. How she could barely get her vows and the ring exchange out, not from tears but from giggles. How her it was. How she held onto his finger once she slid his ring on. How she didn’t let go until the very end of the ceremony when she could finally hold his face as they kissed for the first time as husband and wife. How she was obsessed with his left hand all night, constantly holding it and running her fingers over his ring. How she kissed it that night in bed. 
Jack doesn’t even realize how hard he’s sobbing as he clutches his right hand and ring to his chest, right over his heart. It all replays for him. How they met. Their first date. Their second date. Their first kiss. Their first time. Leaving for his first deployment while they were together. Coming back and her running and jumping into his arms, refusing to leave them all night. 
Getting to be home and spend time with her. All the things they did together in between deployments. Going abroad. Hiking. Renting a cottage on the beach in Connecticut for a weekend. Making dinner at home together. Fun dates. Their sadness when he found out he was being deployed again. Her tears when she had to hug him goodbye. His promise he’d come back to her.
An IED. Physical pain indescribable until the adrenaline fully hit as he tried to save the others around him. Looking down and realizing his foot was gone. 
Waking up in Germany. Waking up at Walter Reed to her asleep in a chair next to his bed. Surgeries. Moving to a hospital in Pittsburgh. Physical therapy. Depression. Finding his therapist. Her right by his side through it all. A prosthetic. An honorable discharge. Her being more than he could ever deserve as he struggled to adjust.
Medical school. Medical school graduation. The pride in her eyes and how tight she hugged him and her breath against his ear as she whispered how proud she was of him. Residency. 
Him picking out her engagement ring. Planning the proposal. Proposing. Wedding planning during residency. Their whole wedding. Their honeymoon. Their talks of kids and a house in the suburbs. Her saying how she wanted a group of little boys that were all the spitting image of their father. Plans to start trying once he became an attending.
Becoming an attending. Deciding not to actively try but more to just not prevent and see what happened for a bit. The death of her mom hitting her hard and putting the brakes on kids for a bit. Holding her as she cried. Helping her plan a funeral. Things slowly getting better. The death of her dad just a year later understandably obliterating it all. Holding her as she cried again. Helping her plan another funeral. Things slowly getting better again.
Deciding to actively try and track her cycle. An emergency medicine and trauma conference in Vegas. Hugging and kissing her goodbye at the airport. Dreaming of her surprising him with a ‘welcome home daddy’ sign when he got back. 
That phone call from Robby as he laid in his hotel bed reading some materials from one of the presentations. 
Denial. Numbness. Yelling at Robby that this wasn’t even close to a funny joke. The slow realization it was the truth. A drunk driver had taken her from him almost instantly but the driver got to walk away with a couple of bruises and a broken arm.
Robby getting him a ticket on the next plane home. Crying silently in that hotel bed because this couldn’t be real. Finally feeling it and sobbing in an airport bathroom with the sound of slot machines in the background. 
The blur of getting back home and Robby being there. Robby telling him the details of what happened and her injuries after he demanded them through a yell when Robby tried to tell him he didn’t need to know, that it wouldn’t make a difference and would just torture himself. Jack screaming at Robby and blaming him for not saving her when Jack knew based on what Robby told him that she was effectively DOA. That there was no hope of her surviving. That if the paramedics hadn’t happened to recognize her as his wife she almost certainly would’ve been pronounced on the scene and never even brought in. Dana grabbing him in the tightest hug as his screams turned into sobs, choked apologies and thank you for trying-s to Robby and asking what he was supposed to do.
Considering killing himself. Considering killing the driver that hit her and then killing himself. 
Planning her funeral. Seeing her again for the first time in her casket. Feeling a pain so deep and a grief so profound he was sure he would drop dead. Her funeral. Trying to give a eulogy. The dove. Watching her be lowered into the ground. Feeling like the photo of her to the side of her casket was mocking him. Feeling like a piece of shit for feeling that. The celebration of life after. Spending too much time comforting other people as they came up to him and apologized for his loss and talked about her. 
All consuming depression. Not leaving his bed for days. Laying on his side and looking at her pillow and crying because he was looking at her pillow and not her face. Because he’d never look at her face like that again. He’d never have her laying in bed with him again.
Slowly coming out of the depression. Finding a new normal. Deciding to live for her as much as it hurt. Working at the Pitt. Things getting better and life and himself feeling stable. Visiting her grave. The years eventually blurring together as he falls into a routine and goes to work and comes home and listens to the scanner and sleeps and goes back to work again. Some dates and casual flings, brief romances. Nothing serious. They grow fewer and farther between.  
And then Jack hits meeting you and his mind stops. 
The sobs don’t. The way he rocks himself slightly in an attempt to self soothe doesn’t. The choked out apologies to her for everything don’t. The way it feels like he’s right back there, on the day he lost her and the day he saw her in her casket doesn’t. The guilt he suddenly feels for being with you doesn’t. The guilt he feels for his wedding ring falling off and him not noticing while he was doing your dishes, washing your child’s highchair tray doesn’t. The ache that fucking dove and what felt like her blessing put in his heart doesn’t. 
Missing her so badly he can’t breathe doesn’t. But neither does his want and need and affection for you. 
Jack hasn’t cried like this in a good while. Hasn’t felt everything all over again and watched his entire life with her and the aftermath play out in his mind in even longer. And he doesn’t understand, or maybe isn’t letting himself understand, why he feels so sad and so guilty and why he had to replay everything in his mind. Why he’s still fucking sobbing and clutching his ring so hard it’ll take hours if not a full day for the indent it leaves behind to fade. 
Deep down Jack knows it’s a form of processing. He knows his ring coming off is a huge thing for him and he knows that’s okay and that this reaction is okay. He and his therapist have talked at length and repeatedly, especially recently, about his possible reactions to taking it off. But he didn’t really take it off, did he?
His sobs taper off as exhaustion hits and he runs out of tears. But his feelings don’t stop. He’s a storm of emotions, has guilt in every direction possible. He hits that numbness that accompanies exhaustion though and it’s a nice change, not feeling every emotion even as he knows he still has them. His head feels fuzzy and it gets harder to think.
Jack lets his head fall back against the cabinet and closes his eyes. It quickly becomes apparent to him though that if he stays here he’ll fall asleep here. So he forces himself up and to the guest bed, pretty much just flops onto it, head barely hitting a pillow. He looks at his ring for a few seconds before his eyes start to close, curls his hand back around it and brings it back close to heart as he falls into a deep sleep.
He wakes hours later to the sound of crying. It’s not a screaming cry like something is wrong or your son is deeply upset but still. It takes him a minute to come back to fully, to remember what happened, to remember the thing he’s still clutching in his right hand is his wedding ring. Jack rolls onto his back and runs his left hand over his face and through his hair to try and fight off the remnants of sleep. And he feels it of course, the lack of it, no metal ring gliding over his skin. 
As he sits up he opens his hand to look at his ring. He feels so fucking melodramatic now. It’s a ring. She’s been dead for over five years. It should have come off a long time ago. It’s not like he has to get rid of it. He just won’t be wearing it anymore. And yet he can’t let go of all those emotions. 
He goes to grab the baby monitor from the nightstand, vaguely wondering why the volume is turned so low but it’s not there. He’s confused for a minute but then it hits him. He left it by the sink. Your son was so quiet and he was so exhausted when he forced himself off the kitchen floor that he just left it there. So who fucking knows how long your son has been awake and crying. After it processes completely it jolts him awake, has him setting his ring on the nightstand and all but running to your son’s room, berating himself further the entire way. 
Jack cannot believe he did that. Forgot the monitor. Left your son nearly alone effectively. Him crying is bad enough but what if something had happened? What if he had started choking? What if someone had broken in? What if he’s been in there for fucking hours crying so long he’s going to get sick now? What if you’d come home to Jack passed out in bed and your son crying? How could you ever forgive him? Ever trust him again? More guilt surges through him and it’s enough to make him teary again because you trust him with your son and he forgot the monitor and your son is one and won’t understand why nobody came for him. Why Jack didn’t come for him. Why Jack left him in there crying alone. 
“Hi Baby,” Jack calls to your son as he opens the door and flicks the light on. “I’m so sorry Bud. I hope you weren’t in here upset for too long.” Your son starts to calm the second he hears Jack’s voice and sees him, small arms reaching up towards Jack asking to be picked up. The big alligator tears rolling down his face make Jack’s heart ache as he picks him up, chubby hands grabbing at Jack’s shirt while Jack settles him against his chest. 
Jack bounces slightly, cupping the back of your son’s head with the hand not holding him, thumb brushing back and forth soothingly. “I’m so sorry Honey.” He turns his head and kisses your son’s temple a few times. He’s stopped crying, he did pretty much as soon as he was in Jack’s arms, just the occasional sniffles and small hiccupped breaths as he settles back down. “I’ve got you. I’m sorry, I really am, and I’m here now, I’ve got you.” 
He settles into the rocking chair that’s there in the nursery and rocks with your son, presses a few more kisses to his head, breathing in the scent of baby shampoo. It calms him. Jack keeps whispering to your son, that he’s sorry and he’s here and everything’s okay and he’ll never do that again. Jack glances at his watch. It hasn’t actually been that long, really it’s been about the length of time your son usually naps for, so it’s unlikely he was crying for that long, right? Unless today was the day he couldn’t sleep and woke up earlier. There’s no way to know and Jack hates it, can only hope he woke up quickly and as soon as your son started crying. 
Your son rests quietly on his chest, hand playing with Jack’s shirt a bit to keep himself occupied, cooing and babbling to himself a little occasionally. It’s comforting, holding him like this and rocking. Jack knows he’s doing this more to soothe himself than your son who’s pretty much completely unbothered now. 
Jack thinks about what precipitated his passing out without the monitor as he holds your son close, namely his ring and the dove. 
Jack knows it was some kind of sign from her and the universe. The whole thing. He doesn’t care how it sounds. He knows it was her blessing. Her way of telling him she’s happy for him and he should be happy too and not feel guilty. And he wishes his guilt could be erased that easily, by a dove and his ring coming off. But it can’t. And it lingers. And Jack is so glad he has someone who understands and won’t hold it against him. Because he’s sure he won’t be out of this funk by the time you get home.    
Even though he knows you’ll understand and won’t hold it against him he still hates that he’s going to be a bit off with you, especially when you just started your relationship officially yesterday. Yes, you cried into him last night from grief but it feels different. Jack brought up pet names and asked a question specifically about your husband. That made you think of your husband. This is his ring falling off. Something that needed to happen anyway. His reaction could easily make it seem like he’s not ready for this or isn’t fully ready to commit to you and let her go in a way. And he doesn’t want you to think that because it’s not true. He is ready for this, he wants this with you so badly, wants you and he is ready to commit to you. He’s been ready and patiently waiting for you. 
He knows he needs to try and get out of his head. Your son starting to chew on his shirt pulls him out of his thoughts. 
“You hungry, little man? Want a snack? A real one, because my shirt isn’t going to do much for you.” Jack looks down at your son and pulls him away from his chest gently. “No it’s not,” he says in a bit of a baby voice, smiling and shaking his head at your son. “It can’t taste very good either.” 
Your son giggles up at Jack at his voice and the way he shakes his head, hands reach for Jack’s face. Jack playfully takes one of your son’s hands and brings it up, mouths at it and makes fake eating noises just to pull more laughter. Jack releases the hand and brings your son up a little closer, leans into him and kisses at his cheeks dramatically, tickling his face with his stubble and his hand on your son’s tummy. It earns him more pealing laughter and makes him smile widely at your son. He loves making your son laugh, could spend all day making him laugh. He loves making your son happy and hearing your son’s laugh helps him, makes him happier and relax a bit. It’s damn near audible serotonin. 
Your son’s eyes shine and he looks so happy, like Jack’s the best thing in the whole world and Jack doesn’t feel like he deserves it in the moment. But he tries to shove that aside to just focus on your son. Your son seems to love eye contact as much as Jack does so it’s easy to catch his gaze and talk to him softly, earnestly, almost achingly so. “I love you Honey, so so much. I hope you know that.”
And he does. Jack loves your son like he’s Jack’s own. Jack, like you, would walk straight into a burning building and through flames for him, would jump in front of a car for him, anything, without a second thought, he’d just do it. Instinctually. And if, god forbid, something ever happened to your son, Jack would bleed himself dry donating his O- blood to your son if that’s what was needed. 
Your son babbles at him in response, smiling at Jack and laughing while clapping his hands. Jack laughs with him and then sighs contentedly. “Alright, you. Let’s get you changed and then get a snack and text mommy and we’ll figure out the rest after, okay?”
Jack’s quick to get your son changed and out to the kitchen, turning off the monitor where it sits by the sink and shaking his head at himself. He’s nervous about telling you, about your reaction. He’d understand if you didn’t trust him with your son anymore, if it somehow ruined things. He just really hopes you still will trust him and nothing is ruined. He can pretty much assure you he’ll never do it again.
Once he has your son squared away with a snack and some water in his highchair Jack sits at the table next to him and texts you. Not telling you what happened never even crossed his mind. He debates calling you instead but he doesn’t want to interrupt your workday more than he has to.  
J - I’m so so sorry. I fell asleep and accidentally left the monitor in the other room. I woke up to him crying and I have no idea how long he was crying for. He calmed as soon as I picked him up and is okay now. Having a snack and some water. But I totally get if you don’t trust me with him anymore and don’t want me watching him by myself anymore. I’m so sorry
Jack stares at his phone waiting for your reply. He knows you’re at work and busy and it might be a bit before you even see that he texted you let alone have the time to read his message and reply. And he knows you might not even want to reply. He’s just praying that you give him something so he knows that you know what happened. 
You do. You don’t even take that long all things considered, it’s only a minute or so before those three dots appear. 
You - Hey, it’s okay, you have nothing to apologize for. I’ve done the same thing more than once, I promise
You - All that matters is he’s okay. Not surprised he calmed down as soon as you picked him up, he’s so enamored with you! 
You - And of course I still trust you with him. I’ve seen you with him and how aware of him you are and how in tune, so if I had to bet, I’d say he wasn’t crying long at all before it woke you up. And even if he had been crying for a while, it’s okay. I’d still trust you. Like I said, I’ve done it before more than once. It’s just one of those things that happens. Especially if you need a nap just as bad as he does!
Jack lets out a sigh of relief reading your texts. His head is still a fucking mess from everything and he hasn’t forgiven himself for this, he’s just so good at compartmentalizing it’s all in a box on a shelf to deal with later. 
J - Okay. I really am sorry though and I can pretty much guarantee you it won’t happen again
You reply quickly. 
You - It’s really okay, try not to feel bad about it. I know it’s not that easy but just know that I’m not upset or anything 
A few seconds later before Jack can respond there’s another message from you. 
You - You otherwise okay? 
Of course you’d pick up on it and know. Of course you’d worry about him. It makes Jack feel so good to know there’s someone out there who cares about him that much, who he’s that important to in a non-platonic sense. But at the same time part of him hates that he didn’t hide it better, that he’s worrying you and burdening you with himself. 
J - Yeah, just been a day kind of
J - Mentally. Nothing to do with him
He glances up at your son as he waits to see if you reply. “Good stuff?” he laughs, your son having devoured the cheerios Jack gave him. “Want some more?” Your son giggles and claps a bit as Jack pours some more out for him. “You’re the best, you know that Bud?”
You - I’m sorry, Jack. We can talk tonight if you want but don’t have to of course. Just know I’m here for you for whatever. I think I’ll probably be able to leave a little early today too
Jack bites his lip. He doesn’t know if he wants to talk about it, or how much he wants to talk about it. 
J - I know. And okay but don’t rush home on my account 
He sets his phone off to the side and turns his focus back to your son, scooting a bit closer to him. “Oh, thank you,” Jack chuckles when your son offers him a cheerio in his tiny pincer grasp and Jack lets him feed it to him, much to your son’s delight. He does it a few more times and Jack takes every cheerio offered until the two of them have eaten them all. 
Jack takes your son to the living room, sets him down on the floor and gets down to play with him. If you end up being able to leave work a bit early it really won’t be too long before you’re home. 
Playing with your son is a good distraction until it’s not and the walls of the box he’d put everything in start to crumble and all his feelings and guilt from earlier flood his mind. Jack’s at least able to focus on both your son and those feelings at once, not outwardly showing any distress or being off with your son or suddenly less interactive. The feelings just eat away at him inside. The guilt. 
Jack’s not even that aware of time passing until he hears your key in the door. “Hi!” you call out as you walk in and set your stuff down, kick out of your shoes. You’re glad to be home and done with the week and so excited to have a weekend with Jack. You walk into your living room and smile at the sight of Jack and your son on the floor together playing. 
“Hey,” Jack calls back. He lowers his voice as you walk into the room. “Who is that?” he asks your son, “Mommy home?” Your son claps and gets excited, starts to crawl over to you but doesn’t get super far. “How was your day?” 
“Oh you know,” you sigh. “Work.” Jack laughs softly. “How was your guys’ day?” You walk over to pick up your son. He’s still close to Jack and without even being fully conscious of it you run a hand through Jack’s hair affectionately before grabbing your son, picking him up and peppering his face with kisses, cooing at him softly that you missed him and you love him and did he have a good day with Jack.
Jack clears his throat as he stands up and walks over to sit on the couch. “Oh you know,” he repeats your words with a similar sigh, only his has an edge to it that concerns you. “You know.” 
You turn to really look at Jack as he sits on the couch and he hates the way your face drops when you see him. You can tell he cried at some point today and you’re guessing it happened before he fell asleep without the monitor. Your brows furrow together, eyes widening slightly in concern. Jack shakes his head and sighs, ready to apologize for ruining your mood and Friday night. But you speak first. 
“Jack?” You walk over and sit on the couch with your son on your lap near him, but leave a cushion between you in case he wants space. You’re worried about him, quite a lot. You’ve never seen him look this sad and almost lost. “What’s wrong honey?” 
Jack isn’t sure how to even begin to answer because it feels so ridiculous. You’ve had your rings off for a long time. He bets you weren’t like this when you took them off. And even if you were it was so close to when he died and you were pregnant. 
Jack doesn’t know what to say so he doesn’t say anything and just holds up his left hand. Your eyes slowly leave his and move to his hand. It doesn’t take you long to notice. And Jack can see it on your face the second you realize. Your eyes go back to his. 
“You took your wedding ring off.”
Jack brings his hand down and sighs, shaking his head. “I didn’t really take it off so much as it fell off while I was doing the dishes.” He looks down at his hand. “It’s on my nightstand, it didn’t get lost in the pipes or anything. I just…” He shrugs. He wants to look back up at you but he can’t bring himself to for some reason. “I didn’t expect it. I’ve done the dishes for over five years, scrubbed my hands at work and it never came off. But today it did. And the worst part is I didn’t even notice when it did. I didn’t realize it until I was drying my hands.”
You’re quiet as you try to think of what to say, what you would want to hear if you were in Jack’s position. And you’re trying to shove the massive guilt that’s hit you aside because this isn’t about you. This is about Jack. But if he hadn’t been doing your and your son’s dishes his ring wouldn’t have come off. It feels like it’s your fault somehow. 
“I… Jack I’m so sorry you didn’t get to do it on your own terms.” You want to move closer to him, rest your hand on him and squeeze reassuringly or hold his hand. But you’re not sure if he’d want that. “You can put it back on, Jack. If you need to or want to. That’s okay.”
Jack had a feeling you’d say that. And he can see in the way you shift a little that you want to be closer to him but aren’t sure if he’d want that. He’s not really sure either now that you’re talking about what happened and it’s all that’s in his mind again. “No.” He shakes his head. “No, it needed to come off. My therapist and I have talked about it. A lot,” he laughs dryly. He forces himself to look at you. “Especially recently, because it’s not fair to you. For us to be together and me to be wearing her ring-”
You’re shaking your head as he speaks and you have to interrupt him. “It’s not unfair to me Jack. It’s just not about fairness in general. I get it, you know I do.” And you do. But you can’t lie to yourself and say it wouldn’t be a little hard to see him put it back on, date him while he wears her ring. You’d never say that though and you imagine you don’t really have to. That Jack just knows because he can put himself in the same position. “If you’re not ready to have it off Jack, that’s okay. I promise.” And you do promise, because even if he did put it back on you would be okay with it even if it was a little hard. 
“I am. It’s been over five years. It needed to come off, truly. It was time.” You can see his eyes get a little glassy and it makes your heart ache for him. You know he must have sobbed about it and you hate that he was alone. Because you know what it’s like. You know what it’s like to suddenly no longer have your wedding ring on and be alone when it happens. You have no idea if he’d have wanted you around when he did it but at least he could have had the option. “I was thinking about it anyway. I was going to try to do it this weekend.” Jack bites his trembling lip and looks down for a moment before looking back up at you, the tears now visible in his eyes. “I just thought I’d get to do it. That it would be this intentional thing and I could talk to her while I did it, you know?”
You let out a shuddery breath and feel tears prick the back of your eyes. “Yeah,” you whisper, “I know. And I’m so sorry you didn’t get that Jack.”
Jack takes a breath and shrugs at you, all the emotion disappearing from his face for a second leaving him stone faced. “Stop apologizing. You have nothing to apologize for.” Jack’s eyes fall down to your son as he starts to babble and wiggle against you more before Jack can see your slight flinch at his words. His tone was sharper than he meant or realized. Colder. He almost sounded annoyed. 
You swallow hard. Both of you knew there would be some really difficult moments during your relationship. Days where the grief was all-consuming and the guilt eating you alive. You just didn’t expect one quite this early on while things are still so new. It’s okay that it is one, just unexpected. “Okay, I’m-” You stop yourself before you apologize again and Jack knows it, looks up at you and gives you the smallest amused smile. It falls quickly though when he sees how upset you are. He hates that he’s the cause. “I, you, um,” you let out a breath, “you’re of course welcome to stay here, always Jack, I hope you know that. And I’m here for you and this if that’s what you need. If you want to talk about, or be close or whatever it is that would help you. I don’t want it to sound like I want you to leave. Of course I’d like you to be here but more than that I want whatever you need and is best for you. I just, it’s also okay if you need to go home, Jack. Be alone and have some time to yourself. Time with her. Go visit her, maybe, if you think that would help.”
You look down at your son while you give Jack time to think, shift him on your lap a little and bounce him on your legs, earning you some squealing laughter. 
“Maybe,” Jack finally says. “I don’t know.” He’s not sure what would be better. The thought of being home and alone with his thoughts sounds awful. But maybe some of the guilt would pass if he wasn’t here with you as terrible as he knows that sounds and is. He doesn’t know. His brain just doesn’t know. He’s paralyzed in a way he hasn’t been in a long time. 
“That’s okay, it’s okay to not know.” You glance around the room as you keep bouncing your knees for your son. You’re trying to think of anything that might help him. Emotionally or just help him figure out what he wants and needs. “He and I can go into my room and give you some space, or go take a walk if that would help?”
Jack shakes his head, frowning at the ideas. “No. This is your house. I’m not confining you to a room in your own house or making you leave.”
“You’re not making me do anything Jack, I’m offering.”
“No.” He’s firm in his answer. “Maybe,” he swallows hard, “maybe I should go for a walk.” He’s not sure if being alone with his thoughts is a good idea but maybe a walk would at least clear his mind a bit. But he also feels bad about it, like he’s just leaving you as soon as he’s struggling with grief. He knows it’s a little more than just normal struggling, but still. He doesn’t want to be that guy, doesn’t want you to feel like you don’t help or he doesn’t want your comfort. 
You’re quiet for a moment, looking down at your son and pulling him up when he wants to stand and bounce on your legs. He’s getting close to walking. You’re not upset that Jack wants to leave and needs space, you’re not sad or hurt. It’s not that. You’re worried because you know how hard it is. How one thing in particular can seem like the best answer.
“Jack,” you whisper, force yourself to look at him so he understands your question. “Are you going to come back?” He nods. Jack understands what your question means. Is he suicidal. He hadn’t even thought about it really. It hadn’t crossed his mind as something to do now, largely, he thinks, because he has you and your son. But Jack hates the fact that he made you worry like that. About losing someone else. “Because you really need to come back, Jack.” You’re still whispering. “Even if it’s not to me.” 
Somehow Jack’s heart breaks a little more. “Hey,” he says softly, tilting his head at you. He reaches out and rests a hand just above your knee. “I didn’t even think about that. I’m going to come back, Sweetheart. To you.” He squeezes your thigh as he speaks, hoping his touch and the honesty he’s trying to project through his eyes will reassure you. “I think I should just try a walk and see if it clears my head or helps me decide what I want to do.”
You nod at him. “Okay. I hope it’ll help.” Jack nods at you and you let out a small breath as he gets up and makes his way to the front door. “Just, um, take your phone? Please. And be safe.” 
Jack smiles at you, lets out the softest laugh through his nose. “I’ve got it, yeah. And I will be.” He turns and rests a hand on the door handle but then turns back to you. “I don’t want you to think this means I’m not ready, or that I can’t be in a relationship with you. Because it doesn’t. I just didn’t expect it and-”
“Hey,” you cut him off gently, “I think a really big and meaningful thing on the grieving the loss of a spouse, I don’t know, checklist, for lack of a better word, happened unexpectedly today and so you’re having a really bad grief day. That’s okay. Those days will happen for both of us. And if on your walk you realize you aren’t ready or can’t be in a relationship with me that’s okay too.”
“I won’t.” He shakes his head. “Because even with all these thoughts and feelings and whatever else right now I feel ready and I want to be in a relationship with you. I just need to try and work it out in my head.” Jack takes in a shuddery breath. He feels like such an asshole for doing this to you. “I’m sorry for dumping all of this and then running.”
“You have nothing to apologize for, Jack. I don’t feel like you’re dumping anything. Or like you’re running.” You give him a small smile. “You’re taking a walk to clear your head. That’s healthy.”
“I’ll be back tonight. Even if I decide I need to spend some time at my place, okay?”
You nod at him and he turns back and opens the door, stepping out and locking it behind him so you don’t have to get up. You straighten out on the couch so that you’re facing the TV, holding your son close just like Jack did earlier in the day but letting him stay standing on your legs. 
You hate yourself for it but you start crying. Of course you start crying. You feel like you’re totally usurping Jack’s grief and feelings or using them and him somehow but you can’t stop the tears even as your son bounces on you and giggles. They’re not even for yourself, not really. They’re for Jack and how fucking badly you know he’s hurting right now, how much he’s missing her, how guilty in every way he’s feeling, how conflicted he is. Because you’ve been there since you met him. More than once. And you understand. You know your situations aren’t identical and you’d never say you understand perfectly or completely know what he’s going through but on a fairly deep level you understand. You know the emotions and how easily they can swallow you. You cry because you care so much about Jack and hate that he’s hurting and that you can’t do anything to make it better. 
Jack has no idea where he’s walking to. He considered your suggestion for a moment, going to see her. He knows that’s a kind of fucked up luxury he has. He can just go and visit her whenever he wants. You can’t go visit your husband easily like that. He’s in Arlington, a four hour drive away. And he knows you love that and are glad he’s honored there but he’s sure it hurts at times. It’s actually one piece of this he really can’t imagine. He can’t imagine not being able to go see her whenever he wanted.
But Jack decides visiting her right now doesn’t quite feel right. So he just walks. And walks. And walks. It all runs through his head again. Every emotion and feeling and scrap of guilt. He’s not even really fully aware of the conversation he’s having with himself in his head, of how he’s trying to process. He just doesn’t fight anything and lets it happen.
He’s so completely in his head and on auto-pilot that Jack doesn’t even know where he is or how he got here when he stops walking as he hits the entrance to a park. It kind of freaks him out how he doesn’t remember walking here but he just rolls with it, walks into the park and along the trail until he spots a bench a little off the path near some bushes. 
More than anything at this point, Jack finds himself struggling with the guilt. He feels guilty for doing this to you. For dropping this big emotional thing on you that clearly upset you for him and just leaving. For making you wonder if he was going to come back or if you’d never see him again and be stuck with another loss and cleaning out his clothes and belongings that are at your place just like you had to with your husband’s. For scaring you like that. For forgetting the monitor and letting your son cry. 
He knows that in some sense this guilt will be easier to let go. That it really will fade almost completely with time because he can spend time with you. He can apologize and reassure you. You guys can make new happy and fun memories, smile and laugh together.
Jack knows that’s not true for the rest of his guilt. His guilt for not noticing his ring coming off. For not putting it back on. For letting that piece of her go. His guilt for moving on with you even when he knows that’s what she would want, is what he would want for her. And he thought about that each time he was deployed and made her a video just in case he didn’t come back. He always told her. Grieve and then find someone else to share your life with and be happy with. He wanted that for her. But now that he’s here having to be the one to do it, it feels like some form of betrayal in a way. How could he possibly ever get over her? Jack knows it’s not really about getting over. Because he couldn’t really, in the same way you could never truly get over your husband. It’s not a breakup. Nobody chose to end the relationship. It was ripped away. 
But he knows it’s not betrayal. He knows that being with you, falling in love with you, doesn’t mean he doesn’t love her anymore, doesn’t diminish how much he loves her. Doesn’t make her some figure in his past that he’ll slowly come to think of less and less until he forgets her. He could never forget her and a part of him will always love her. He doesn’t think he could go a single day without thinking of her even if only for a second. And Jack knows that you would never let him. That if the day came where he started losing his memory that you’d be right by his side with pictures of the two of you and your family together but also with pictures of her and her and him together, tell him all the stories he’s told you about her. 
He knows it’s not betrayal and this is what she would want but it’s so fucking hard at times. He wishes he could just call her. Or that she had left a video telling him to grieve and find someone else. Maybe hearing it directly from her would help. But he can’t and she didn’t. All he has is a dove on your windowsill and while it feels so strongly like a sign and her blessing it’s hard to hold onto that belief at times. 
Jack lets out a long breath and closes his eyes, tips his head back and feels what’s left of the heat from the sun and the slight breeze across his face. He should head back soon so he doesn’t get back after dark. Or at least text you that he’s okay and still walking if it does get dark. But he still doesn’t know what to do. Doesn’t know what he needs. Whether to go back to his house for the night or even the weekend. 
He thinks he’s having an auditory hallucination when he first hears it. That coo of a dove. Jack opens his eyes slowly and brings his head back down. And sure enough there on the opposite end of the bench is a mourning dove. He gives a short laugh of disbelief. So he’s having a visual hallucination too, great. Because this can’t be real. And it especially can’t be real when the dove moves and Jack recognizes it as the same one that was on the windowsill. That line of black feathers just above one of its eyes too unique to be a different bird. 
But then a kid who must be four or five yells “Look mommy! A bird!” as they point to the bench. The kid’s mom looks over and nods, says something Jack can’t hear to her daughter. 
Jack tells himself to be relieved that he’s not hallucinating. But it just feels like too much, in every sense. It’s too perfect to be true and mean anything. But it’s also way too coincidental and on point to mean nothing. Right? 
The dove gives a soft coo and then tilts its head to one side as it looks at Jack, eyes almost squinting. He swears it’s a really? look that he’s given Robby a thousand times. Like really the dove had to come find him again to give him the same message. So maybe he is hallucinating. Might as well go full send then. “I’m not convinced that you’re not some very realistic fucking animatronic dove Robby’s controlling off in some fucking bush to try and help me,” Jack huffs and rolls his eyes, doesn’t believe a word of what he’s saying but still.
He can’t believe he’s actually fucking talking to the dove now. Joking with it. He has to laugh at himself and the dove coos a few times as he does, ruffling its feathers again. Jack rubs his face with his hands and shakes his head before looking back at the dove. He bites his lip when he feels that pressure behind his eyes. He won’t cry. Not with this dove. That’s the line. That has to be the fucking line. 
Jack and the dove just look at each other for a few minutes. Maybe it’s true, likely it’s Jack forcing himself to believe it, but it feels like sitting in her presence. He presses his lips in a line as they tremble slightly. “Yeah?” It’s a loaded question. 
He can’t believe he actually just asked that out loud. To the dove. The random bird in a park on a bench. Like it really means something. Like it’s actually her. But Jack wants to believe it is. He wants that comfort. Wants that sign. And he tells himself that’s okay. That it’s human. That humans have been looking for and seeing signs in all sorts of things forever. Jack needs to believe in this. And so he gives himself this and lets himself believe.
The dove coos back at him once. Jack smiles and shakes his head. After a few more coos at Jack the dove flies off. He watches it fly off, laughing as a few tears leak out of his eyes. He brings his head back down and rests his elbows on his knees, holds his face in his hand for a second and gives himself a single muffled sob through his laughter. Because the dove isn’t here now. He’s not crying with the dove. 
He wants to tell you. Jack needs to tell you. And maybe you’ll think he’s totally off the fucking rocker and break it off and that’ll be the real sign. He has a feeling you won’t though. 
Jack wipes his eyes and sniffles and then stands up. He walked on auto-pilot for so long that he actually has to use his phone to get directions to point him in the direction of your place. He feels much better, as kind of crazy as that fact makes him feel. He’ll stay at yours tonight. The whole weekend if you’ll let him. 
Eventually you force yourself to get up. The tears have at least lessened if not stopped completely. You take your son into your room with you and set him on the floor for a second while you change quickly. You don’t know what to do with yourself. Taking a walk with your son crosses your mind but you don’t want to accidentally run into Jack and have him feel like you’re stalking him or can’t give him space. You’re just restless. 
You could go to the park a few blocks up. You doubt Jack is going to go there if he’s taking a walk, it’s not a huge park you can really walk through. But still. You shouldn’t risk it. You sigh and pick your son up, head back to the living room and get down on the floor to play with him like Jack was. You feel like a terrible mother for not giving your son your full attention since you’ve been home so you do your best to go completely into mom mode and forget about everything but your son. 
Two or so hours pass and Jack still isn’t back. You head to the kitchen and put your son in his highchair, get some dinner ready for him. You consider making something for yourself and maybe Jack but you’re not even remotely hungry. You’re vaguely nauseous if anything. But at least the tears have truly stopped and you put in some eyedrops so your eyes hopefully won’t completely give you away when you see Jack again. You don’t want him to feel like you’re taking his trauma and struggle for yourself. 
You’re helping your son eat dinner when you hear the lock turn over and your front door open. It makes your heart rate pick up quite noticeably. You have no idea if the walk will have helped at all, if he’s going to just run in to tell you he’s leaving for tonight or the weekend or forever. Because you can’t help but catastrophize. You don’t even know whether to call out a greeting. But when he doesn’t offer one as he locks the door behind him you figure you shouldn’t either. 
“Hey,” Jack greets you as he walks into the kitchen, kissing the top of your head as he walks by before doing the same to your son who squeals in excitement at seeing Jack. He sounds much better. Happier.
You freeze for a second. It’s not what you expected so it catches you a little off guard. “Hey,” you reply, tracking Jack as he sits down at the table across from you, baby at the end in the middle. He looks lighter. He’s been crying at least a little but he looks lighter and happier and like he found some answers and worked things out and is almost at peace. It gives you whiplash for a few seconds before Jack’s eyes leave your son and turn back to you, that intense gaze of his helping to ground you. He flashes you one of those smiles of his that gives you butterflies. “The walk helped I take it?”
“It did,” he nods at you, still smiling. “Well, actually, it wasn’t really the walk, it was a bird.”
You raise your eyebrows and smile back at him, confusion ghosting your features. “A bird?”
“A bird,” he confirms. “The whole thing is going to sound insane, and like I said yesterday, if you want to kick me out forever at the end I’ll get it. And I’m sorry.” Jack softens a little. “I know you’re going to say don’t be, but I am.”
“And like I said yesterday I very much doubt that’s how I’ll react.” You give him a small smile and turn to help your son finish his dinner. “And you’re right, I’m going to say don’t be sorry because you have nothing to be sorry for. You didn’t do anything to be sorry for.” You glance over at him with a knowing smile. 
“Still am,” he teases and you roll your eyes affectionately. “What do you want to order for dinner?”
You laugh a little. “How do you know I didn’t make myself something and eat already?” 
Jack doesn’t miss a beat. “You never eat when you’re stressed or worried or anxious.” He shrugs. “It worries me sometimes.”
“I-” you start, but have to stop. He’s right. You never eat when you’re stressed. The fact that he cares about you enough to have noticed and have it worry him isn’t missed by your brain and it makes you feel warm all over.
“You know I’m right.” Jack smirks at you. 
“Doesn’t mean I have to like it,” you grumble at him, but have to smile at the sound of his soft laugh. You help your son finish the last bite of his dinner and shrug at Jack. “I don’t know. Whatever you want. Nothing sounds particularly good or bad.” You stand up and grab a pack of baby wipes, start using one to clean your son’s face. 
“I’ve got it, you grab him,” Jack murmurs once your son is clean. 
“No, you take him. You already washed all of this once today. I’ve got it this time.” You turn your attention to your son. “And you want to go see Jack, don’t you Baby?” Your son laughs, holds his arms up and makes grabby hands at both of you really, looking between you and Jack, but eventually settling on Jack. “You really going to tell that face no?” You click your tongue at Jack. 
“I could never,” Jack hums as he picks your son up. “And he knows it.” He bounces your son in his arms a little, smiling at him and making faces. He glances over at you as he does. “Nauseous?” 
You pause before setting the tray in the sink and starting to wash it. You don’t know why you’re surprised. The man clearly knows you and he’s a doctor. There’s probably some outward physical symptoms you were displaying. “A little,” you simper at him, “but it’s passing.” 
“Good.” Jack sits back down with your son and orders something quickly, the lightest of your favorite dishes. “Food’ll be here in twenty.” 
“You didn’t have to do that Jack.” You shoot him a look from the sink. 
“Wanted to.” You shake your head at him with a little smile and bite of your lip as Jack adjusts your son to bounce on him. “Honestly, I had this whole little cooking lesson date at home idea where he and I were going to go pick up ingredients and then when you got home we’d cook and I’d show you things and wear him or he’d chill in his highchair and then… my ring fell off and kind of derailed everything.” The end of the sentence is much quieter than the beginning. 
You look at Jack as you finish drying the tray and set it on the counter. He’s still focused on your son. As much as he’s feeling better he clearly still has some stuff lingering under the surface. “That’s a very sweet idea. I’m sure we can do it someday soon.”
“Yeah.” He nods and glances at you, gives you an uncharacteristically shy smile. “Anyway, I figure once the food is here and we’ve eaten and put him down for the night we could talk? And I could tell you about the bird. A dove, specifically.” 
“I’d like that.” You nod at him and drape the dish towel back over the oven handle and go back and sit across from your boys at the table. “A mourning dove?”
“Mhmm.” Jack confirms, making a face at your son and then tickling his tummy. They’re common enough that he’s not surprised you guessed it.
“Your wife’s favorite,” you say softly, giving Jack an understanding smile when he looks up at you. 
Jack blinks at you for a solid thirty seconds. It strikes him that you said it. As in you didn’t ask it. You said it because you know it’s true. You know they’re her favorite. He must have talked about it once and you remembered. You remembered. “Yeah.” Jack nods, a little dazed. 
Your smile widens a little. “You’re not the only one who notices and remembers things Sweetheart,” you tease him lightly. 
Jack huffs a laugh and rolls his eyes playfully, but his smile makes clear how he really feels. How touched he is. The two of you chat for a bit until the food arrives. Once it does you eat at the table together, your son happy to hang out in his highchair next to you both. You get him down for the night while Jack clears the table and wipes it down. And then you meet him on the couch. 
You pause for a second, unsure of where you should sit. As of late you and Jack have been sitting side by side on the couch and so normally you would just take the seat next to him and not think about it. But you’re not sure where he’s at tonight, if he wants you that close. 
He pats the seat next to him. “Here, please. If you want. It’s okay if you don’t.” 
“No, I do,” you nod as you walk over and sit next to him, put the monitor on the coffee table, “I just wasn’t sure where you were with it tonight.” 
“I appreciate you thinking about it, but I’d like you close. I like having you close.” 
“I, I like having you close too,” you admit with a shy smile and slightly lowered head. You both shift on the couch so that you’re slightly angled and can see each other.
 “I’m going to preface this all by saying I know how crazy and ridiculous some of this is going to sound. But I just… want to believe it. Need to. So I’m trying to let myself. And maybe that’s not the healthiest way to deal with everything, but I can try and figure that out with my therapist later.” You nod and give him an encouraging smile. 
And so Jack begins. He starts with what happened with his ring, finding it. He spells out all of the emotions and guilt and feelings he’s had throughout the day. There are tears from him, moments where you pull him close and let him cry into your neck and chest while you rub his back and kiss his curls. You reassure him at the right times, express your understanding of his feelings and especially of a lot of the guilt. 
Then he finally moves to the dove. He tells you about both instances, at the windowsill and the park and you listen, nod at times and smile. You don’t look at him like he’s crazy or like you’re just putting up with this until he stops talking and you can free yourself. You squeeze his hand and laugh with him when he does. 
Jack shrugs at the end. Even though your reaction has been nothing but positive as you listened he’s still worried about what you’ll have to say. Still feels exceptionally vulnerable. “So, yeah. That’s the story of the bird I guess,” he laughs weakly, clearly somewhat embarrassed. He squeezes your hand that he’s holding to tell you he’s ready to hear what you have to say.
“Oh Jack,” you sigh, squeezing his hand back. His heart races a little faster. He’s not sure what to make of your sigh. “I don’t think there’s any part of that story, of anything you just told me, that’s crazy or ridiculous or insane.” 
Jack lets out a long breath. “Thank you,” he whispers. 
“Nothing to thank me for Sweetheart, I’m being honest with you. That’s what I think.”
“No I know, but…” Jack trails off, not really sure where he wanted to take that sentence. 
“I know.” You nod at him for a second. Now that you have that out there and Jack has relaxed you take a minute to gather your thoughts. Jack can tell it’s what you’re doing by the look in your eye as you keep your eyes fixed on a spot on the wall. Once you have a rough idea of what you want to say you look back at him. “I think it’s like you said Jack. Humans search for meaning and signs in everything. It’s normal. Especially in this context. And I think that if that wasn’t a sign from her then nobody in history has ever truly received a sign from anybody or anything because what happened with that dove was, I don’t even know how to describe it. Intense? Overly coincidental? I guess I don’t know how anyone could have that happen and think it meant nothing and was just two random things that happened at a very specific time with no significance.”
“Okay, good. I’m glad it wasn’t just me.” Jack lets out a bit of a groaned laugh and runs a hand through his hair. 
“Even if it was Jack, who the fuck cares? The only thing that matters is what it meant to you. How it made you feel. What you believe it is. Everyone else’s and the world’s opinions on it are irrelevant. Even mine. To be clear I’m with you on this, I promise. I’m just saying. Nobody but you will ever truly understand what all of that felt like so who is anyone to judge or tell you that your interpretation is wrong?” You shrug at him like it’s so simple. 
And in a way Jack guesses that it is. Because you’re right. Nobody else could ever truly understand. Not even you. “Yeah. I guess I was busy judging myself on behalf of the world about it and never really thought about it like that.” He tilts his head at you. “I’m really glad you don’t think I’m weird for it and that you understand. And uh,” he looks down and grows quieter, almost nervous, “we’re okay, right?” You know he’s asking if you still consider the two of you to be together, a couple.
You smile at him, lean in and press a lingering kiss to his forehead. “We’re more than okay, Jack,” you whisper against his skin, press another quick kiss there and pull back. 
“Good,” he breathes. You look at each other in a comfortable silence for a minute. “Have you,” Jack pauses and debates whether to finish his question. “Have you ever had something like that happen to you? You don’t have to answer either. I just wondered.” 
You raise your eyebrows. “Oh, well, I, um, yes. But not quite in the same way? I don’t know. He…” You look down at your lap and laugh softly to yourself before looking back up at Jack. “My husband, he used to give me daisies. All the time, for everything. Every big thing, anniversaries, birthdays, sometimes just because. Before we started dating I must have mentioned it once and so he actually showed up to our first date with a little bouquet of them, it was very sweet. I actually pressed one of them and have it still. Anyway, after I gave birth, when I was in the hospital I had ended up telling the nurses about him and what happened, and my doctor already knew. They felt bad, obviously, and so because I didn’t really have anyone to celebrate with they all went in on getting me some nice flowers.” You let out a bit of a shuddery breath, eyes a little glassy as you think back on the memory.
“It was a bouquet of daisies,” Jack murmurs. 
You smile at him and nod. “It was a bouquet of daisies,” you confirm. “And I asked the nurse who brought them in if there was a reason for daisies and she said when she went to buy them they just kind of called to her.” You shrug. “So, it’s not quite the same, but in the moment and even now I like to believe that he was somehow behind it and was there with us.”
As much as the memory warms Jack’s heart, parts of it break it too. He still hates the thought of you not having anyone, not having any support during labor and birth and after. Hates how your husband’s death was still pretty fresh for you. He can’t even begin to imagine. “I think he was,” Jack nods, reaching out and taking your hand, hoping it gives you some comfort and doesn’t feel weird. “Both behind it and there with you.”
“Thank you.” You nod at him. “Now whenever I see them I think of him, tell myself he’s saying hi.”
Jack nods and gives you a gentle smile. “He is.” 
After a few seconds you and Jack both shift at the same time, lean in and hug each other. “Thank you for trusting me with all of that. The story and your feelings. I’m really glad she helped you find some peace. I would be regardless of what it was about.”
“Thank you for listening and trusting me with the daisies.” He turns his head and presses a kiss to your temple. 
Neither of you have to say anything else. You both get it, understand exactly what it meant to the other and for the two of you as a couple. You settle against Jack a bit once you break the hug.  
The mood is still a little somber. You guess that’s how you would describe it. You tilt your head and pull it back a little, give Jack a small smirk and try to help pick the mood up. You hope it doesn’t backfire. “You want me to ask Robby the first time I meet him if he has a very realistic animatronic mourning dove that he follows you around with?” 
“Please!” Jack snorts a laugh, “I would love to see his coughed out ‘excuse me?’ and his panicked and concerned eyes looking at me for a second before he gives you the actual fucking nicest, ‘no, I can’t say that I do,’ while internally trying to figure out how he’s going to casually pull me aside nicely ask me ‘what the fuck?’”
You giggle with him as Jack laughs at the thought. “You know I could never, right? I’m way too shy and socially awkward around people I don’t know to do that.”
Jack laughs as he nods. He lets his laughter trail off and grows a touch more serious, the smile he’s giving you dripping with the adoration and affection and gratefulness he has for you. “I do know that, yes, it’s something I lo-” Jack catches himself, “really like about you.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jack is right. Kind of. He doesn’t have to tell Dana and Robby. But they don’t even have to ask to know. Just looking at him is enough. 
“Did Dr. Abbot get divorced?” Trinity poses the question to the group at the hub. 
Nobody answers for a moment. Half the people there don’t know and the other half don’t really want to spread Jack’s business. 
Robby can feel the eyes of the half of the group that doesn’t know on him. He slowly raises his head and shoots them all a don’t gossip look. “No.” He looks at her a little longer. “What prompted that question?” 
Trinity shrugs. “He just used to wear a wedding ring and isn’t now.” 
The iPad in Robby’s hands drops the few inches to the counter as he spins to look at Jack, who apparently just arrived and is speaking with Dana. 
“You have a good weekend?” Dana asks as she looks at Jack over her glasses with a knowing smile. 
“I did, thank you Dana,” he says a little saccharinely. “Did you? Or did you have to work?”
“No I had it off. It was fine. Didn’t do much.” She tries to keep it casual but Jack can see right through it and it almost makes him laugh as he sets his phone on the counter and grabs a few things out of his backpack and puts them in his pockets. “What about you? Do anything fun?” 
You text him and when it wakes his phone Dana’s fast enough to glance down and see his new wallpaper. A photo of the three of you. She keeps her head down as she smiles to herself. 
“I did yeah.” Jack doesn’t offer anything more much to her apparent chagrin. She clocks his ringless left hand when he picks up his phone, her eyes widening and mouth dropping open for a second before she closes it and looks back up at him. Jack looks at her. He knows she knows. “I’m going to put my stuff away now.” 
“Yeah, okay.” She nods at him, watching him walk towards the lockers. Once he’s out of sight she spins. “Robby!” She flicks her head to beckon him and walks away from the hub in the middle of the floor. 
“He’s not wearing his ring.” Robby whispers. 
“I know. And his phone’s wallpaper is a picture of the three of them.” Dana nudges his arm as she says it. 
“Really?”
“Mhmm. Something must have happened.” Dana pauses and glances over Robby’s shoulder to see if Jack is walking back to the floor yet. “He said he had a good weekend and did something fun but he didn’t give any other details.” 
“He’s gonna have to figure out something to say to everyone because Santos already asked if he got divorced because he’s not wearing his ring.” Robby gives Dana a look. They both know Jack is private by nature, but that at the same time he would absolutely hate people thinking he got a divorce. 
“He is.” She nods. “You think we can get him to talk?” She moves her chin subtly to point where Jack is walking back on the floor. 
Robby shakes his head slightly. “I don’t know.” The two turn their attention to Jack, watching as he starts walking to the hub.
He can feel their eyes on him. And they’re not exactly subtle or trying to hide it. He looks at them for a second and stops walking.
Jack sighs before turning and walking into the breakroom. As much as he acts annoyed about it he really does kind of like it. He likes having two people he trusts to talk to you about and show you off to. 
He crosses his arms over his chest as Dana and Robby walk in. “Can I help the two of you?” They both just raise their eyebrows at him. “Aren’t you both off? Go home.” 
“Can’t.” Robby shakes his head and clicks his tongue at Jack. “Haven’t run the board with you yet.” 
Jack scoffs. “Then let’s go fucking run it.” He takes a couple of steps forward. 
“So it led to more?” Dana finally asks, getting Jack to stop walking and cross his arms back over his chest. 
Jack looks at her stoically. “Does it matter to the two of you?” 
“Ha!” Robby laughs. “Yeah it matters Jack! You’re not wearing your ring! It’s been over five years and you haven’t taken it off and now you have her in your life and it comes off? It absolutely matters. She matters! She’s important!”
There’s a little pang for Jack when Robby mentions his ring and his lips turn down for just a split second, but both Robby and Dana catch it. “I didn’t ask if she mattered or if it mattered generally. I asked if it mattered specifically to the two of you.” 
“It does Jack!” Dana smiles at him. “Like I said before, we want to see you happy and support you.”
Jack looks at the two of them for a second before taking a deep breath and settling his hands on his hips. “Yes, if you must know, there’s more than just friendship now.” He can’t fight off the smile that pulls onto his face as he says it. Nor does he really want to.
“Oh yeah?” Dana’s smile grows and she raises her eyebrows at him. 
“Are you like together?” Robby asks. “Like is she your girlfriend? Or is it like the dating stage before you make it official?” 
“Oh my god,” Jack mutters, shaking his head and looking away from them. “Yes, we’re together and she’s my girlfriend, okay?”
“Since when?” Dana beams at him. Jack knows how happy she is for him, knows she and Robby have seen him at his lowest and truly do just want him to be happy and are excited for him and care and are accordingly being affectionately nosey. 
“Really?” Jack sighs. 
“Has to be pretty recent, we’d have noticed otherwise,” Robby says to Dana. 
“Really, I guess,” Jack mutters to himself. “Thursday night, okay? Thursday night.”
“So I’m guessing you haven’t been out on a real date yet,” Dana hums at him. “It’s important to go on dates without the baby. Real dates.” 
“Yes, I know, thank you.” Jack gives her an exaggeratedly annoyed smile. 
“And do romantic things,” Robby adds.
“I do romantic things! I know to do them! I-” Jack huffs and shakes his head. “What the fuck even is this? I don’t need dating or relationship advice! And we’ve been together all of five days, can we all slow the fuck down?”
“Listen,” Dana starts. “I’m just saying. I’ve been in the baby phase before and I know I was married, but it can be easy to fall into a routine and always have him with you. So if you guys ever need a sitter, I’m more than happy to do that for you, okay?”
“I would be happy to as well,” Robby offers. 
Jack nods at them both as he considers. “Yeah, I kind of like that. The idea of his sitter being a medical professional. And I’ve thought about it before. How the two of you would be my preferred sitters. But,” he shrugs at them, trying a little too hard to look uneffected, “he’s not my kid, so it’s not my decision.” 
“For some reason I think she’d take your opinion into consideration pretty seriously.” Dana smirks at him. 
“This would, you know, require us meeting her,” Robby teases him. 
Jack stares at him. “Thank you for that very helpful insight Michael.” 
“I’m just saying.” Robby smirks a little and shrugs at Jack. 
“Yes,” Jack sings the word a little, “she would like to meet you both. We’ll get it set up. Figure out something to do.”
“Good.” Dana nods approvingly. “We’ll be on our best behavior to convince her to let us babysit for you guys. Won’t we Robinavitch?” 
“Why’d you say it like that?” Robby looks at her with mock offense. “Of course I will be.” 
“She’s going to like you.” Jack rolls his eyes at the two of them. “She’s shy though, has some social anxiety. So if she’s quiet and seems a bit reserved it’s just because she’s shy and it has nothing to do with you guys. She opens up more as she gets comfortable but she’s just quiet by nature. So it’s different.” He nods at both of them. They both know what he means. That you’re not extroverted like his wife. That you’re kind of the polar opposite in a way. Jack clears his throat. “Now is there any other part of my relationship you’d like to plan or be involved in? You wanna actually plan the dates too?” Jack asks pointedly, though there’s enough of a ghost of a smile on his face for the two to know he’s not actually mad.
There’s silence for a few seconds but then Robby apparently just can’t help himself. “You have condoms? You should keep one in your wa-”
“Robby!” Dana lightly smacks his arm with the papers she’s holding as Jack glares at Robby with a set face. “Really? Even for you!” Dana shakes her head at him, but it’s quite obvious to Jack she’s biting down a smile. And when she turns back to look at Jack she gives him the quickest flash of a he’s right though look. 
“What? I just like fucking with him sometimes!” Robby half laughs as he twists and moves his body away from Dana and her papers. He looks back at Jack. 
Once he and Robby have locked eyes Jack speaks. “I’m going to give Myrna your home address,” he deadpans so stone faced and stoically he can see Robby have the quickest flash of worry that he might actually do it.
“Oh come on I was joking!” Robby holds his hands out to his side. After a beat he gives the smallest shrug and lowers his voice. “Kind of.” 
“See,” Jack looks at Dana and waves towards Robby, “and I was going to offer to show you guys pictures and then Michael had to open his fucking mouth.”
“Woah woah woah!” Dana shakes her head and moves closer to Jack, holding her hands up in acquiescence. “Don’t punish me for his bullshit! I didn’t say anything. I just volunteered to babysit!”
Robby scoffs loudly. “Thank you Dana, for the solidarity. I’m really feeling it right now.”
“I actually do genuinely appreciate you offering, Dana. We may take you up on that soon. But she’s not going to let you do it for free,” Jack tells her in a much softer voice. He pulls his phone out and starts pulling up some photos to show her. 
“I can babysit too!” Robby offers. “I’m also a medical professional you know!” 
Jack flicks his eyes up to look at Robby, stone faced again. “That’s debatable.” 
“I made one joke! After being so supportive-”
“Shut up and get over here to look,” Jack cuts him off with a slight cock of his head to tell Robby he’s just fucking with him back and not actually upset. “And yes, we might ask you to babysit one day too.”
Jack brings up a few random photos of your son that he’s taken over the months while watching him, a few of him and your son. “God, he is just too fuckin cute,” Dana laughs. 
“The cutest.” Jack smiles fondly as he looks at your son. 
He brings up a few more of your son, a couple of you and your son. Then he hits Thursday. 
“This was on Thursday. It was his first birthday. We took him to the zoo.” Jack laughs softly as he looks at the photos. “He loves animals.” He offers his phone to Dana. “You can go through.” 
Dana does, her and Robby laughing sweetly at some of them and awing at others. She stops on a photo of a three of you that you’d had someone take. “Oh Jack,” Dana coos, “you guys look so happy. All three of you.” 
“Yeah.” Robby nods, smiles to himself. “And that little boy loves you.”
Jack flushes at that. He’s not really sure why but it makes him a little emotional. He watches as Dana flicks through some more photos. “He’s a year old, he’s hit the stage of liking anyone who gives him attention.” He has no idea why he’s downplaying it like he doesn’t absolutely fucking love the fact that your son loves him.
Jack doesn’t have to see Robby to know he’s rolling his eyes. It’s clear in his voice. “That is so not true Jack. And he loved you that first time we met him.” 
“He’s right,” Dana agrees, “babies can be pretty good judges of character. They’ll stay away from and cry around people they don’t like. And he did love you when we met. So just accept the boy loves you.” 
Jack just hums in response. It makes him smile though. He loves your son too. “And she’s beautiful, Jack. You can tell you make her happy.” Dana looks away from the phone and at Jack. 
“Yeah,” he murmurs, smiling as he looks down at you, “she makes me happy too.”
Dana and Robby share a look. “You know she’d be really happy for you Jack,” Robby says softly, talking about Jack’s wife. “She would want this for you.” 
“He’s right again,” Dana whispers, leaning into Jack and wrapping an arm around him and giving him his phone back. 
Jack leans into her in a silent thank you. “Two times in one day,” he says quietly, “someone better mark it on the calendar.” Robby huffs at him but Jack looks up and smirks at him for a second before giving Robby a genuine, slightly emotional smile and tipping his head at him. “Thank you, Robby.” Robby returns Jack’s smile with an identical one of his own. “And thank you,” he tells Dana as he bumps into her and returns her half hug. “Can we go run the board now?” 
“I think we can,” Robby nods, clapping Jack on the shoulder as they walk towards the door. “But hey,” Robby pauses by the door, opening it so Dana can walk out but looking at Jack who raises his eyebrows at him. “You weren’t serious about giving Myrna my address?”
Jack’s stoic look returns, not a hint of real emotion on his face. “Not today,” he deadpans and walks out. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“I feel ridiculous for being this emotional about something so simple. It’s just a haircut.” You shake your head but lean into Jack a bit more as you both stand and watch your son get his hair cut. 
He’s needed it. He has for a bit you’ve just struggled to bring yourself to do it and life got busy. But earlier this week you’d worked yourself up to it and asked Jack if the place he got his hair cut also did kids’ hair. He’d been a little surprised by the question, for some reason it felt kind of meaningful in some way that you wanted your son to go to his barber shop. He told himself that realistically it was probably just because you didn’t know where else to go, but you could have gone wherever you get your hair done, but maybe they just don’t take kids. 
In any event your son is here at Jack’s barber shop getting a haircut. And you had asked Jack to come with you again once you made the appointment. He’d told you that you didn’t need to ask again, of course he would. You’ve been together a little over a week now and things have been good. Steady and sweet. Lots of hugs and forehead kisses and side cuddles on the couch when you’ve both been home at the same time. 
“First haircut, though. It’s kind of a big deal,” Jack murmurs to you, hand rubbing your back. 
“I don’t even know why I’m like this.”
“You don’t need to know why. You’re allowed to just feel. But I’m guessing it’s because it’s a sign of him growing up.” Jack presses a kiss to the top of your head. He’s not super sure how much you’ve thought about the end result but he wants you to be prepared. “Sweetheart, you know this haircut is most likely going to make him look much older?”
You go still and then Jack hears you sniffle. “No!” Your voice gets adorably high-pitched like you’re fighting back tears and you turn further into Jack and rest your forehead in the crook of his shoulder while you let a couple of tears fall. 
“I’ve got you,” Jack says with a sad little laugh, holding you close and rubbing your back. “I just wanted you to be prepared.” 
“I didn’t even think about that, I was just so focused on the haircut generally,” you mumble into him.
“I kind of thought so,” he murmurs, wiping away the one or two stray tears when you pull your face from his shoulder.
“God,” you huff at yourself, “when I said come with me to be my shoulder to cry on I didn’t think I was going to mean it literally.” 
Jack chuckles. “That’s alright, it’s part of what I’m here for. As in right now and generally, you know?” 
You look up at him and smile. You know he means as your boyfriend. “I do, yeah.” 
Later that night you and Jack are in the kitchen grabbing some water to take to bed with you and putting away a couple of things that have dried on the dish rack. You’d just finished watching your current show on the couch together like you often do. Jack had been right. The haircut makes your son look older. You’d had a little moment about it after you guys left the shop but you were able to move past it pretty quickly. 
Something about the day and the night has felt different for you. Jack has been so understanding and sweet and supportive and perfect, not just over the last week and a bit you’ve been together officially but even the three months before that, just in a different capacity. And you want more with him. You want to express your thanks and affection through more than hugs and side cuddles on the couch and forehead and cheek kisses. You want more of Jack. And you feel ready.
He’s putting the last of the dishes away.
“Hey Jack?”
“Yeah, Sweetheart?” His eyebrows raise a little as he shuts the cabinet door and turns to look at you. 
“Thank you. For today. Coming with me and holding me while I cried.” You shrug with a soft laugh. “I’m sorry you have to do so much of that right now.”
“You’re welcome. I was very happy to come, thank you for inviting me.” He walks closer to you but lets you initiate any touching. You wrap your arms around his waist loosely as you look up at him, his arms doing the same. “You have nothing to apologize for though. And I don’t feel like I’m having to hold you while you cry particularly often. Even if I was, I wouldn’t care. I mean I would care in the sense that I fucking hate seeing you upset, but not at the fact that you needed and wanted me to hold you. And I’m pretty sure you’ve held me while I cried recently too.” He tilts his head and gives you a little smirk. 
“I would anytime you needed.” You take a step closer to him and wrap your arms around him a little tighter, one of Jack’s arms around your waist while his other hand rubs up and down your back. 
Jack laughs softly, eyes crinkling so perfectly you could scream. “Same for you.” 
He looks beautiful in the flickering light of the lit candle on the kitchen table. Unfairly handsome with the way his skin glows and with his molten eyes and kissable and suckable lips and salt and pepper stubble. Jack’s thinking the same thing about you in this light. How the flickering light makes your eyes look like they’re shimmering, how the shadows hit perfectly to highlight your features and how the soft glow of the candle makes you look radiant. 
“What are you thinking about so hard?” you ask him a little breathlessly, closing the last of the distance between your bodies so that you’re flush against each other chest to chest, both your and Jack’s arms tightening around each other.
“That you’re beautiful,” he murmurs. “Incredibly so.” 
The smile that pulls on your face is bashful. “Funny, I was just thinking how incredibly handsome you are.” You lean your head up and in towards his, eyes dropping down to his lips for a second before returning to his eyes. “And how I’d like you to kiss me.” 
This close you can just about see Jack’s pupils dilate a little further. God does he fucking want to kiss you. But he finds himself unable to just do it without checking. “We don’t have to do this. You do not owe me. Not for going with you or because you cried and I held you or for anything at all. Ever.”
You nod at him. 
Jack brings his head down towards yours, tilting it slightly, eyes focused on your lips for a moment before going back to your eyes. “Say it please.” 
“I know. I know I don’t owe you,” you whisper, “I promise. I want this. I’ve been wanting this. And I’m ready.” 
“Okay,” he whispers, leaning his head down and towards yours further. Your lips are just about touching now.
“Jack,” you breathe against his lips. 
He nods once. “Yeah? You sure?” 
You nod at him. “Please.”
Jack doesn’t need asked twice. And so in your candle lit kitchen you share your first kiss. He presses his lips to yours in an almost painfully sweet and chaste kiss, holding his lips against yours just the right amount of time before he pulls away to look you in the eye, check in, see if you liked it, if you want more, if that’s enough for the night. 
The look in your eyes tells him all he needs to know just as the look in his tells you. But Jack doesn’t have time to even move in to kiss you again because you’re already kissing him, one hand resting on his chest while the other comes to cup his jaw and keep him close. 
You’re stealing kiss after kiss from each other, most of them starting to linger. Starting to get just a touch hotter. No open mouths or tongue or hard sucking, just more urgent.
Even kissing you Jack is respectful, though you expected absolutely nothing less with how he is, how he treats you. He lets you set the pace, follows your lead. There are soft noises of appreciation from each of you, the sounds slipping out easily even with the relatively chaste kissing you’re doing. 
You can feel the uncertainty of Jack’s hands as they rest against your hips, thumbs rubbing soft circles over your shirt. You know it’s not that he’s not confident or is particularly self-conscious, but that he’s not sure what you’re okay with, where you’re okay with his hands being. It makes you smile against his lips. 
“What?” he asks against your lips as he smiles just because you are. 
“Nothing.” You take another kiss. “You’re just very cute.”
“Oh?” Jack kisses you again.
You nod a little. “Yeah.” It’s mumbled against his lips. Your hands leave his chest and jaw to find his and bring them up to hold your face, silently communicating to him that it’s okay for him to hold your face like that, touch you like that. 
Jack doesn’t get to appreciate his hands holding your face very long because you’re grabbing them again, wrapping them around you and using your hand to make his hand squeeze and grab at your hip and waist, bring one up to hold the back of your neck, kissing each other all the while. “Thank you,” he murmurs against your lips. And he means it. He’s very thankful for you showing him what you’re okay with. 
“Thank you,” you mumble back, continuing to kiss him.
The last kiss breaks naturally and you pull apart. You’re both panting softly, less because you’re out of breath and more because you’re just worked up for each other. 
“That was…” You feel a little lightheaded. 
“Yeah.” Like you, Jack is a little dizzy from kissing you. “That felt so good.” He’s struggling to come up with words.
“Felt so… right,” you laugh, the sound breathless and airy. 
“Good.” Jack nods and smiles at you.  
“Did it for you?” you ask, suddenly a touch self-conscious. “Feel right?”
“Oh yeah, Sweetheart,” he drawls the first two words with a quiet and shaky laugh that says everything you need to know about just how good and right kissing you felt, “that felt right.” 
It’s then you get a good enough flicker of light to really notice the flush of his cheeks and neck. “Good.” You lean up and kiss him again.
The two of you kiss for another minute or so before you naturally break apart again. But this time Jack rests his forehead against yours. 
“We should probably go get some sleep,” Jack whispers.
“I’m not opposed to doing this all night.” You smile. 
Jack’s breathy laugh fans across your lips. “Neither am I. Believe me, neither am I.”
“I know you’re right though.” You can’t help the way your bottom lip pushes out in the slightest pout. 
“I really wish I wasn’t,” Jack groans before pulling his forehead from yours. 
You giggle at him. “But you are.” 
You share smiles before actually grabbing the water you in part initially came into the kitchen for. You grab the monitor and Jack blows the candle out as he follows you into the hallway, illuminated only by the nightlight you have so neither you, nor Jack now, has to blind yourself if you need to get to your son in the middle of the night. 
Like always as of late, Jack walks you to your bedroom door. “Thank you for a great day, Jack. And night.” You lean up and give him a quick kiss. “Goodnight, Sweetheart.”
He smiles at you. “No, thank you. For the great day and fantastic night.” Jack winks at you with a small slightly smirked smile that makes you bite your lip and laugh to yourself, bashful again. He leans back down asking for one last kiss that you’re happy to give him, along with a hug. “Goodnight, Sweetheart.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jack’s finishing up his shift Wednesday morning around 8:30. A trauma had come in right at shift change, so he’s only just had the chance to run the board with Robby. He’s signing off on a few last things and then is out, looking forward to some sleep. 
He nods a quick goodbye to Dana and starts to leave the hub when he hears a baby crying.
But it’s not just a baby crying. Jack would recognize that cry anywhere. Ice starts to spread through his veins.
Your son is here and crying and he is decidedly not happy. It’s not his usual cry. And for Jack if your son is randomly showing up here in his ED and not happy and crying the way he is, it means something is wrong. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I hope it was okay and worth the wait and you enjoyed and I would love to hear your thoughts and comments! They give me much joy and inspiration! Liking, replies and reblogging are so so appreciated! My inbox is always open for thoughts, comments, and general screaming! As are my DMs! 🙂
Do we want more of these two? I have like seven thousand ideas for the two of them if more than just myself would like to see more of them lol. The next couple of parts would probably less time jumping like this one and then I think it would probably pick back up again. Let me know if you'd like more!
Thank you for all your support and for reading!! ♥️
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Quiet Part 2
Widower!Jack Abbott x Widow Single Mom!Reader
Part 1 can be found here!
23.9k || All my content is 18+ MDNI || CW: DOMESTIC JACK WITH READER'S BABY; Shy!Reader; Jack was in the army; reader's husband was in the army and died while deployed; discussions of loss of spouse; discussion of the death of Jack’s wife; suicidal ideation; briefest mention of thought of murder suicide (NOT directed at reader, in the context of Jack thinking about the guy who killed his wife, literally a single sentence); discussion of Jack’s injury; reference to death of parents (not Jack’s or Reader’s); grief; like lots of grief; guilt; so much fucking guilt for Jack and Reader; self hate for a bit for both Reader and Jack; baby is a boy but is not named; a bird; reference to past pregnancy, labor and delivery; crying; DTR conversation; thoughts about sex; angst; no use of Y/N or related
Summary: You and Jack define your relationship and work through more grief and guilt together.
AN: Twenty years later here we are with Part 2. Sorry about that 😅. Hopefully it was worth the wait. I don't know how I really feel about this (I know exactly how I feel and it's not fantastic but when is it ever). This is different from Part 1 in that there is less time jumping, but I think as they now are truly establishing their relationship and not working towards having one it makes sense. We also see considerably more emotion and grappling from Jack in this part. I considered doing a much more zoomed out kind of story with them but I like exploring emotions and such apparently so I didn't keep it as kind of quick to develop and move through their life as I originally thought I would. I don't know if that's good or bad, but it's reality lol. Again, it's kind of emotional but sweet in the beginning, and middle, but it gets funnier and fluffier (I hope) at the end. Anyway I hope you enjoy and thank you for reading!♥️
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“I’m so sorry,” you murmur to Jack as you pull away from him a little. “I really thought I was ready.”
You and Jack have been home for a few hours now, sitting on the couch and starting a new series together. Your son is out hard from his big birthday adventures, didn’t even stir as Jack changed him into some pajamas and put him down for the night while you trimmed the end of the rose Jack gave you and put it in a slim glass vase. 
You’d spent most of your time on the couch leaning against Jack. You like being close to him, like feeling him next to you, warm and sturdy and soft and safe and real and alive. The little voice in the back of your mind telling you this was wrong and to think of your husband was still there, and at times you did feel some confliction, but with the help of your therapist and time that voice had become nothing but a whisper most of the time and more easily dealt with if it got a little louder. 
By the time whatever platform it is asked whether you were still watching Jack had his arm around your shoulders and you were pressed firmly against his side with your head resting against his shoulder and chest, one hand in your lap and the other resting on the lower part of his thigh. You’re in that same position now only you’re both turned in towards each other a bit more and the hand that was in your lap is cupping Jack’s face, your head no longer resting on him. 
When he’d asked if you wanted to watch another episode or head to bed you’d responded by asking to kiss him. Jack had eyed you carefully as he said of course, and that he would like that, but only if you were ready. And you were so sure that you were until you lent in to do it. Hence your apology.
Jack shakes his head a little, leans into your palm where it’s still cupping the side of his face. “Why are you apologizing? It’s okay to not be ready. I’m happy you told me and didn’t push yourself to do something you weren’t ready for. That’s what I want.” 
“No, I know.” You sigh and look down, thumb brushing over Jack’s cheek absentmindedly. “I just feel bad because earlier on our way back I said I was ready for this, for there to be an us, and maybe a little more and now I’m not ready for a little more.”
“I know it’s not easy and me saying this doesn’t make it all better, but please try not to feel bad. It’s okay. And I mean it.” Jack watches you carefully to gauge your reaction and make sure he’s not overstepping as he sets his hand on top of yours and squeezes gently to get you to look at him again. You do, and it hurts him to see how frustrated and upset with yourself you look. He knows how hard this all is. How easy it is to feel like you’re being disloyal. How hard it is to be vulnerable again. He wishes he could make it better for you, take away your struggle because he doesn’t like seeing you struggling and the concomitant hurting. “I’m glad you told me and listened to yourself. I want you to truly be ready for every step of this. I’m not going anywhere just because you say you’re ready for something and then the moment comes and you’re not. You don’t owe me anything, ever.”
“I know,” you mumble, looking away from him. “I just wanted to be ready. I want to kiss you, I really do. I want to give you that, give myself that. I just…” You sigh and pull your hand from his cheek, resting it back in your lap. You’re disappointed in yourself even though you know you shouldn’t be. You did a lot today, gave Jack and yourself a lot. You started a relationship for christ’s sake. You know he has no expectations of you but for some reason you apparently have them of yourself and holding hands and starting this with him and kind of cuddling him on the couch apparently don’t meet them. “I don’t know. I don’t know why it’s so hard.” 
Jack shakes his head slowly. “It was for me too at the beginning. I’m not sure I could articulate why either, but I understand, I promise.”
“I feel like I’ve ruined an otherwise great day.” You look up at him, eyes a little glassy. “And I want this Jack, I’m ready for this. For us to be in a relationship exclusively… for us to be a couple. I want that. A lot.” 
“Hey,” he draws the word out as he tilts his head at you, “you haven’t ruined anything. I promise. I had a great day. The best day I’ve had in a long, long fucking time. I’m really glad you invited me.” He tentatively grabs your hand from your lap and laces your fingers together. “I want that a lot too, to be in a relationship with you, exclusively. To be a couple. So let’s do it, yeah?”
You squeeze his hand, eyes rounded more than usual and brows pulled together. You can’t let go of this undefined concern you have. You’re happy, you genuinely are. Butterflies flutter away in your stomach at the thought of finally being with Jack and at the way he’s looking at you, small, excited smile and sparkling eyes. Like you just gave him some huge gift. It feels like you’ve given him barely anything. “Yeah, let’s do it.” You nod, give him a small smile and laugh a little, almost embarrassed for some reason. Jack is just so handsome and such a good man and you’re having such a vulnerable conversation and admitting your feelings for him. And even though you have before you still find yourself feeling like a teenager almost. “We’re a couple.”
Jack’s smile widens and he nods. “We’re a couple.” He leans forward just slightly before he stops himself. If you were ready he’d have leaned in and kissed you then. And if he’s honest with himself he is disappointed a little bit, but not with you, just that he can’t make you feel good like that, can’t show you how happy he is through a kiss, can’t claim you like that. Because he’s possessive already. He feels it, hard. Harder than he should this early on maybe. 
He looks at you so intensely, is clearly over the moon about this. You don’t realize you’re looking at him the same way, that he can tell how happy you are, how much you want this. 
You groan a little but keep your smile as you let your head fall against the side of his chest. “What?” he laughs softly. He lets his other hand come down and rub your back a little, hyper focused for just a second to gauge your reaction and make sure this is okay. He struggles with the line between asking and trying things because he doesn’t want to make you feel like he’s afraid to touch you, but at the same time he wants to be respectful and not make you uncomfortable.
You shrug against him. “I don’t know. I just feel like… a teenager learning her crush likes her back,” you laugh a little, words slightly mumbled against him. “And I guess I don’t understand it. Why you want me when I come with so much… baggage. And a baby.” 
Jack hums a little and you can feel the vibrations. It makes you shiver. Makes you imagine feeling them in a different context, your head resting on his chest after sex when he hums at something you say or how you run your hand over the part of his chest your head isn’t occupying as you curl into him. “Well, I think our baggage matches. Same pattern, maybe a different color since it’s not exactly the same. Or what is it the youths say these days. Different font.” 
You snort a laugh against him and pull back to look at him. “The youths? Different font?”
“What?” he laughs. “We get a lot of new grads on night shift. They teach me their lingo, keep me up to date and cool.” 
You give him a lopsided smile and tilt your head as you raise your eyebrows slightly. “Lingo?” 
Jack shakes his head. “I never said they were replacing what I grew up with.” He smirks at you. “And back to your point, you come with a baby and I come with baggage and missing a foot with extra trauma and PTSD from that. We all have our things. I want you because you’re beautiful, on the outside yes, but on the inside too. You’re a beautiful person. Caring, selfless to a fault sometimes, giving, funny, adorable, empathetic, so empathetic I know it makes you hurt at times, strong, you have to be the strongest person I know-”
“Jack,” you cut him off, unable to stomach anymore compliments that part of you disagrees with. “Thank you.” You smile and give a breathy laugh. “I’m not sure I understand it still, but… I know how genuine you are.”
He nods slowly. “Can I admit something? It might freak you out and if it does you can tell me to shut up or to leave and never come back-”
“Yes, and I very much doubt I’ll react like that.” You give him a knowing smile. 
Jack grimaces slightly, not quite in disbelief but in a you-haven’t-heard-what-I’m-about-to-say kind of way. He takes a deep breath and then lets it out. “I think we were supposed to meet. I never believed in fate or anything like that but then I saw you,” he shakes his head a little and looks away from you. “I saw you and I was drawn to you. It felt like I was supposed to know you. And then when I walked into the room with you it felt like I’d known you forever. You were familiar. It felt like I knew you’d understand me even if I didn’t know why at the time. And you do. Not just because we’re both widows but,” he shrugs, “you just get me. And I still feel all of that today. I have every day since we met.” 
He forces himself to look back up at you, stomach churning at the thought of seeing your reaction. Because he gets how that sounds, how it could make him look almost obsessive or kind of insane. But you’re just smiling softly at him. And your heart and your mind and your lips ache to kiss him, but you know that emotionally you’re not there. That it would be too much all in one day. 
“I felt the same thing,” you admit. Jack’s eyebrows raise and his head pulls back a little at the shock. He’d felt it in the room that day, like you felt whatever was between the two of you too, but he’d since convinced himself that he was projecting and just wanted you to feel it so he was telling himself it felt like you recognized it too. But you apparently really had. “It kind of freaked me out with how exhausted and scared and emotional I was,” you laugh quietly. “But believe me, I felt it too. Like we were supposed to know each other and were meeting for a reason. And believe me, my therapist and I have talked about it and then some because it was hard for me at first. The idea of this first sight kind of thing.”
“Really?” he whispers. 
“Really.” You nod. You squeeze Jack’s hand and drop your eyes. You hate that you can’t kiss him, don’t understand why you don’t feel ready for that. It’s just a kiss. One that you want. You hate your brain for it, for allowing your grief to still control you. Deep down you know it’s not that easy and you know that the kiss is a big deal because it’s with Jack and it’s going to mean something. It’s going to make you feel so many things. Things you felt for your husband. You need him to know though. That you do want him physically. “I really want to kiss you right now. I just want you to know that. That I do want to kiss you. And want more with you, physically. I wish that I was ready. I wish I could give you more physically so this felt like a real relationship.”
Jack can hear the emotion in your voice. He knows you’re probably closer to tears than you want him to know and that you’re beating yourself up pretty badly inside. He hates it. “Hey,” he says softly, slipping his hand out of yours and using his index finger to tilt your head back up to look at him when you don’t resist. He moves his hand up so that it cups your cheek. “This okay?” His eyes dart around your face looking for any hesitation or sign of distress as you nod and lean into his hand a bit. “First, I think we do more physical stuff than you think. Holding hands. Kind of cuddling on the couch. That’s all physical. But second, and more importantly, the physical stuff isn’t what makes or defines our relationship, yeah? You’re putting too much pressure on yourself I think. Probably being pretty mean to yourself. I don’t need to be able to kiss you to feel like I’m in a real relationship with you. I don’t need anything physical in particular to feel like that. Do you?”
“No.” You shake your head and then shrug a little. “But, I don’t know, I just think that sometimes for men it can be different maybe.”
Jack smiles at you. “Guess I’m not every man,” he teases with a little smirk. His heart soars when it makes you laugh a little. “What I need to know that I’m in a relationship with you is to know that you want to be in one with me, that you consider us to be in one, that you know I’m here for you for anything and everything, that I want you to tell me everything, that you know there is no judgment from me, and that you know that I know the same is true for you towards me. The physical stuff will come with time as you feel more ready. It doesn’t matter how long it takes. I’m content and happy in this relationship just as it is now. I promise. And I meant it too. You don’t owe me anything. You don’t need to give me anything in a physical sense for me to be happy or feel secure in our relationship.”
“I know,” you whisper. “I do, I promise. And I don’t need it to be happy or secure either but I want it. And I know you want it too.”
Jack squeezes your face softly and lets out a breath as he looks away from you for a second. You know he’s conflicted. He knows you know. It’s hard to formulate an answer because the last thing he wants is for you to feel pressure or like he’s just going to be in this relationship waiting around for the day you can kiss and makeout and have sex and then he’ll become really invested. But he also can’t lie to you and say he doesn’t want you. 
He returns his eyes to yours and hopes his reflect how genuine and honest he’s being. “Of course I want it. Of course I want you. Look at you.” Jack’s eyes trail over all of your body he can see in this position and the way he looks at you feels unholy in a way, needy and lusting and reverent. So incredibly reverent. You already know when you do get there Jack is going to worship you. He already looks like he’s ready to get on his knees just for the opportunity to gaze upon you, clothed or unclothed. “I’m not going to lie to you and say I don’t. But I need you to know I’m not going to be in this relationship just sitting around waiting for the day we can do more and have sex and then I’ll become truly invested. I’m all in now. I’m invested in this, in us and our relationship now. Okay?”
“Yes, but, Jack,” you shake your head at him a little, look desperate for him to hear and believe you, “please don’t think I doubted that for a second. Your commitment and investment. That’s not what I meant or how I meant to make it seem because I wouldn’t be ready and I wouldn’t be doing this with you if I felt like that for a second, I promise.”
“Hey, I didn’t think you did,” he soothes, thumb brushing over your cheek. “I just needed to say it for myself and so that you heard it explicitly from me.”
“Okay. Good.” You nod. “Good. I’m sorry, I know I’m making this a big deal and way more complicated and long of a conversation than it needed to be.”
“Please don’t apologize. You’re not doing any of that. We’re just having a conversation and communicating so we both know where we are. That’s healthy. And you voicing your worries and anxieties and your thoughts, that’s important. That’s what I want. I want to hear all of that kind of stuff.” He smiles at you, just a hint of a smirking edge. “I want to be there for my girlfriend, yeah?”
You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding at girlfriend. You knew that’s what you are, what you defined during this conversation but hearing it is different. It makes your heart race. “Yeah.” There’s barely any substance to the word with how breathed out it is and your reaction to the word makes Jack chuckle to himself a bit. You really are adorable. 
He knows this next question is going to fluster you further, but it’s an important one for him so that he doesn’t cross a line. “If you know, and it’s okay if you need a bit to think about it, how are you feeling about pet names? Being called one.” 
“Oh.” You blink at him. “I um…” You look down at your lap, suddenly even shyer than usual somehow with Jack’s intense gaze flustering you further. You don’t know what you were expecting him to ask but you guess it wasn’t that. It makes your brain a little fuzzier as you try to figure it out. You can’t believe Jack wants to call you a pet name. It’s sweet. And the way he asked and didn’t just do it is even sweeter. Toothache sweet. “Yes, yeah.” You nod at him and clear your throat, looking back into his eyes. “I’m okay with them. I can’t believe you want to call me one,” you laugh softly but incredulously, “but, um yeah. Yeah, I would like that. And you? Would you, or how, how do you feel? About them. Pet names.”
Jack beams at you, nodding a little. “I have to tell you that you’re so adorable when you’re flustered like this. When you get a little shyer on me.” His voice is lower than it normally is and Jack forces himself to keep looking into your eyes and not to glance down at your lips. He lets his words linger for a few seconds before clearing his throat and answering your question. “I would like that too. If you’re ready to use one with me, and it’s okay if you’re not.” You shake your head at him to indicate he doesn’t need to worry about that. That you are ready. 
“You have to tell me the one, though.” You cock your head at him, eyebrows pulling together in confusion. Jack swallows hard, his heart rate picking up. It’s always hard, bringing this side of things up. And he knows it’s liable to send you into a bit of a spiral, to shove your loss and your grief in your face, and on today of all days. He hates it. But not knowing might lead him to inadvertently hurt you worse one day. “The one I’m not allowed to call you because it belongs to you and your husband.” 
“Oh,” you say again, breathe it out this time as your eyes find the folded American flag in its box on display. You didn’t even think about that. And you are so so glad that Jack did because you know if he accidentally called you that one it would have sent you spiraling so hard. Just the question has your mind spinning a little because now it’s like a montage in your head, it’s all you can hear. Your husband calling you Angel. Jack knows what’s happening, what’s playing out in your mind. He recognizes the specific glaze to your eyes. And it’s happening for him too a bit. A montage of his wife calling him Darling. Always Darling. Almost never Jack. 
Jack’s hand pulling away from your face to take your hand again and squeezing it is what brings you back. You bring your eyes back to his. “Angel,” you whisper. 
He nods. “Darling,” he whispers back. You know what he means. That’s his one. 
You feel the tears stinging your eyes but you huff a laugh instead of cry. Jack’s eyebrows raise slightly. “I’m just realizing how fucked up that is. I never thought about it before. Angel. He called me Angel and then he went off and fucking died and became one if you believe in that shit.” You click your tongue behind your teeth as the tears start to fall. Because he died. Because he called you Angel. Because it’s your son’s first birthday and he isn’t here. Because you’re with Jack and you’re happy and it suddenly feels so wrong even though you know it’s what he would want. “Fucking Angel,” you whisper as you devolve into quiet tears. 
You’re not even fully conscious of doing it because it’s just so natural and feels so right. You crawl fully into Jack’s lap and curl into him, one arm wrapping around his neck and your other hand fisting at his shirt as you bury your face in his neck and slowly devolve into quiet and muffled sobs. 
The move shocks Jack into complete stillness for a moment. It’s by far the closest the two of you have ever been, the most physically intimate. And he’s so aware that you’re this close and sobbing into him over your dead husband. He feels responsible for your sobs too. He brought it up, forced you to think about it. He just didn’t want to call you the wrong thing. 
His mind spins as he tries to decide what to do. Is it taking advantage of you and your completely vulnerable state somehow if he reciprocates your touch right now? Do you want his touch? Would it be comforting? Will you think it means something negative if he doesn’t touch you? You wouldn’t have climbed into his lap and be clinging to him if you weren’t okay with him touching you and weren’t seeking out comfort from him, right? 
Jack wraps his arms around you slowly, paying close attention to see if you stiffen even slightly or show some other sign of discomfort. He lets one hand rest on your back and the other over your hair on the back of your head to hold you close. When you cling to him tighter in response he tightens his grip around you in turn, hoping the pressure will help ground you. “I know,” he murmurs. “I know.” 
You hate this. Hate being like this and asking Jack to deal with it and intruding on his space and ruining everything with your tears. But Jack is comfort. He’s your boyfriend now and he understands the reason you’re sobbing, the pain behind it. The grief. You trust him with this side of yourself, want his comforting touch and the grounding he offers even as your heart breaks for your husband and what you lost. You didn’t mean for this to happen and you know Jack feels responsible but it’s not his fault. He didn’t make it happen, didn’t make you feel like this. 
“I’m sorry,” you choke out against his neck in between hiccupped sobs. You immediately feel him shaking his head, hold you a little closer. 
“You have nothing to be sorry for.” He keeps his voice low, starts rubbing your back. “It’s okay. Let yourself feel it. I’ve got you.” Jack rocks you gently. “Let it all out. I understand. And you’re okay, you’re allowed to feel these feelings with me, okay?”
The way he knows exactly what to say makes you sob harder for a moment as you take every whispered reassurance to heart. “It’s so unfair Jack,” you sniffle against him before letting out a more audible sob, “for both of us, it’s so unfair. I hate it, I hate it so much. And, and I wish I could make it a little better for you like you, like you do for me. I’m so-sorry.”
Jack barely has time to process the stinging in his eyes before tears of his own are sliding down his face. For all of it. For you. For your loss. For his wife. For his loss. For how right you are, how un-fucking-fair the world is. For how you think you don’t make it a little better for him. 
“It is,” he whispers, “it’s so fucking unfair.” Jack takes in his own shuddery breath. “And you do, you do make it a little better. I promise.” He sniffles, goes to kiss the top of your head but stops himself, nuzzles his nose against you instead. 
It takes a bit longer for you to cry yourself out. Jack’s tears stopped well before yours and he never stopped whispering to you, never stopped holding you. Never made you feel like it was too much. Like you were too much. Like he needed this to stop and you to get out of his arms and leave him alone. Never rushed you.
And he keeps holding you once you stop crying, his hand still rubbing your back and the other still holding the back of your head to keep you close to him. You get to a point where you’re mostly quiet, only the occasional sharp stuttery breath. “I’m sorry,” you mumble against Jack’s neck. “That was unfair of me.”
He shakes his head. “No it wasn’t. You needed to let out some emotion. That’s part of what I’m here for, to hold you through that.” 
You shrug in his arms. “I don’t want you to think you caused it. By asking. I’m glad you asked.” You shift a little, pulling your head from his neck and resting the side of it in the crook of his shoulder, his hand on the back of your head quickly wiping the remnants of his tears and then coming down to wrap around you. “I… I don’t even know what that was. Or why it happened. It just does sometimes.” 
“It does for me too,” Jack murmurs. “And you don’t need to know what it was or why it happened. It can just happen.” 
It’s then you can hear the remnants of tears in Jack’s voice and the realization you made him cry is enough to bring you back to the brink of tears. “I’m sorry for making you cry and hurt.” Your whisper is so low he barely catches it. 
“You didn’t,” he says firmly, trying to emphasize that it wasn’t you. “You didn’t anymore than I made you cry and hurt.” He shrugs. “The world did,” he says simply.
There’s a lot more you want to say to that but you don’t. Because it doesn’t really matter at the end of the day. It happened. It’s the past now. You cried clinging to each other on your couch and made it to the other side of that overwhelming grief together. All you want is to be closer to Jack somehow. 
You shift again, pulling your head away from Jack’s body so that you can look at each other, his arms loosening around you automatically so that you’re free to move, to get off him if you want. But you don’t want that. 
“Jack?” Your voice is a little shaky and it feels so dumb to have it be shaky over what you’re about to ask him to do. It’s barely anything but for some reason it feels huge right now.
“Yeah?”
“Will you kiss my forehead?”
His eyebrows raise. It feels huge for him too right now. Almost as intimate as kissing your lips. Jack’s eyes search yours. “You sure?” 
He has to check. Has to make sure you really do want it and are ready for it. You nod, smile at him and his concern and need to check softly. He cares about you so much. Cares about your relationship so much. Doesn’t want to hurt you or ruin anything. “I am. I want it a lot. If you do.”
“Yeah, okay,” he whispers a little breathlessly. “Yeah, I want it too.”
He moves slowly, giving you time to pull away and change your mind. His hands move to your neck, thumbs along your jaw and he nods with slightly raised brows, asking if it’s okay. You nod a little and lean closer into him.
Both your and Jack’s eyes flutter closed when his lips make contact with your forehead. He doesn’t linger with this kiss, just plants a kiss on your forehead and pulls back a bit to see how you react and if you pull away. When he sees a smile ghost your lips and you stay where you are he leans back in for another and lets this one linger, lips pressed to the soft skin of your forehead for a good thirty seconds before he pulls away. 
You let your eyes flutter back open. “Thank you. I, I liked that. If you ever wanted to do it again. That would be okay with me.”
Jack gives you a crooked smile, gaze as intense as ever. “I like that too. And I would like to do it again, yeah.”
You nod at him. “Good,” you whisper. Your eyes leave his and track the tear stains on his cheek and neck until you see the mess of his neck and shirt that you made and cringe. “I’m so sorry I got you and your shirt all snotty and gross.” 
Jack chuckles. “I’m a doctor. That doesn’t phase me for a second. It’s one of the most benign bodily fluids to get on me.”
“Still.” A rather large yawn hits you and you cover your mouth, shaking your head. “I’m so sorry, that just came out of nowhere.” 
Seeing you yawn makes Jack yawn of course and he similarly covers his mouth. “It’s been a long day and crying can make you tired.” Jack lets his hand rest on your hip, watching you intently to see how you react. “You should get to bed and get some sleep as much as I’d love to stay out here and talk with you all night.” He squeezes your hip gently. 
“Probably, yeah.” You yawn again, this one not quite as big. “Definitely, apparently,” you laugh. “You should get some sleep too.”
Jack laughs with you. “Yeah, probably I should.” He offers you his hand to hold as you slide off him and stand up, grabbing the baby monitor. Once you take a step away he stands up behind you, rests his hand on your lower back as he walks you over to your bedroom door. “I had a really great day. Thank you for inviting me to spend it with you. And um,” Jack blushes again and looks away from you for a second. You have to bite your lip at it as you smile because it’s so cute and you can’t believe talking to you, anything related to you, is making him blush. He looks so cute flustered. You get it. Why he said it earlier. “I’m,” Jack clears his throat as he looks back at you, cheeks still a little tinged with pink. “I’m really happy about us.”
You beam at Jack. You know you must look ridiculous, so overly excited and happy. The whole thing is kind of surreal and even though you’re in your house in front of your bedroom door and Jack’s about to walk down the hall and into the guest room it feels like him dropping you off at your front door after a first date. “I am too.” His words echo in your mind and it’s a little bold for you but you’re just following him really. “I have to tell you that you’re so adorable when you’re flustered like this. When you get a little shy on me.”
Jack laughs, shaking his head at you. His blush deepens and you really could scream at how adorable he is. “Yeah, well, you have that effect on me. You wanna talk about feeling like a teenager.” He rolls his eyes at himself playfully. 
“I totally get it,” you giggle. You get slightly more serious, the giggle fading away while the huge, what you’re sure must be at least slightly goofy, smile doesn’t leave your face. Jack’s smiling too though, just as happy and excited as you. “Are you going to tell Robby and Dana?”
“Oh,” Jack scoffs a laugh and runs a hand through his hair. It shouldn’t make your heart stutter the way it does. “I don’t think I’ll even have to. They’ll just know. Just from looking at me the next time they bring you up. Which will be the next time I see them.” He shakes his head at them and then looks back at you, cheeks a little pink again, that boyish, slightly flustered smile gracing his face. “Are you okay if I show them pictures? Of him? And uh, you and him? And all of us?”
“Oh, um, yeah. Yeah, of course.” Now you’re the one flustered thinking about Jack wanting to show you and your son off. 
“Thank you. I know they’ll enjoy seeing him. Anyway,” he nods at you, “I should let you get some sleep.”
“Can we hug?” You blurt out before Jack can say anything else. 
It catches Jack off guard so it takes a second to process, but his smile widens as it does. “Of course we can, if you’re ready for that. I would like that.” 
You nod. “I am. Not really that much different from the couch, is it? Except I won’t be sobbing into you this time.” You laugh breathlessly just at the thought of hugging him and him wanting to hug you. 
“True,” Jack laughs softly with you. “If you need to cry again you can of course. And I’m going to let you lead, okay? Show me how tightly you want it. And if a hand goes somewhere you don’t like or I do something you don’t like please tell me right away.” 
“I will,” you assure him, “but I trust you and I know nothing like that will happen.”
He nods at you and steps closer, holding his arms out a bit so you can wrap yours around him. You hug him tight as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you in close to him. You nuzzle your face against his chest and take in several deep breaths through your nose to savor his scent before resting the side of your head on his chest and enjoying the sound of his heart beating and the feeling of his arms holding you, warm and strong and safe. Half of you wants to ask him for his shirt to sleep in but you know you’re not there, that the smell of another man in your bed would be a little too much for you right now. 
Jack nuzzles his nose in your hair, absentmindedly kisses the top of your head occasionally because he can do that now. And he can tell you like it by the way you squeeze him a little tighter when he does. You feel perfect in his arms and holding you like this makes his heart glow in a way it hasn’t in a long, long time. He feels happy and content in a way he wasn’t sure he would ever feel again after his wife.  
You could both stay like this for hours. But Jack knows you’re exhausted. Knows you have to work tomorrow. He relaxes his arms and pulls away just slightly. It has the desired effect, you look up at him wide-eyed with a small smile, able to guess what’s coming next. 
Jack slides his hands up your sides and then brings them to hold your face gently, smiling down at you like you’re the only thing that exists in this moment. He leans down and presses the softest kiss to your forehead, lets it linger as he tries to use the kiss to say thank you and he’s so happy because of you and he can’t believe you’re his girlfriend and he’ll wait as long as you need and he cares about you and you’re so incredibly important to him. He pulls his lips from your forehead eventually, only to bring them back down and give you a couple more kisses there, letting the last one linger just a little before his lips brush against your skin as he murmurs to you. “Goodnight, Sweetheart.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A day later Jack glances at the baby monitor when he hears your son stir a little. 
He shouldn’t be waking up yet, he didn’t go down that long ago and he is normally a very good napper. A good sleeper in general. True to form he just shifts around a little and then is back out. 
It makes Jack smile and laugh to himself as he resumes doing the dishes. Almost everything is in the now-running dishwasher but there are a few things that can’t go in and he’s giving your son’s highchair tray a good scrub. 
It’s Friday and Jack’s on a solid string of off days and so is home with your son. A kid at daycare is sick and honestly, Jack just likes being with your son, and so anymore it’s more common for your son to be with Jack than at daycare when Jack is off. You’re both looking forward to having the weekend together, especially now that you’re together. It’ll be your first weekend as a couple. You have absolutely no plans, but both of you kind of like that. 
As he scrubs Jack tries to formulate a plan to get you to let him take the monitor tonight so that he can get up with your son and you can sleep in tomorrow. He knows you’re going to fight him on it, but he wants to do it for you. He’ll just have to make sure he’s the one who grabs it when you guys get up to go to bed. 
The thought crosses his mind that maybe it’ll be a moot point. Maybe you’ll invite him to sleep in your bed with you. Just to sleep and be close, not for anything else and not even naked. But that thought quickly morphs into kicking himself mentally, asking himself why the actual fuck he’s thinking about that when you aren’t even ready to kiss and have been a couple for less than 24 fucking hours. 
He knows it’s because he wants that closeness with you. Wants to basically hug you all night. He would absolutely never pressure you into doing so, it’s just why he’s thinking about it. Thinking about your warm skin against his, your breathing slow and soft as you sleep curled into him, the little sounds you’d make in your sleep, how peaceful you’d look, and god the sound of your sleepy voice in the morning, spoken more into his chest than anything as you nuzzle against him and try to hide from the light and ask for five more minutes. 
No. Just no, Jack tells himself. He needs to stop. It feels wrong on so many levels to think about you like that, even though it’s not sexual. If only Jack knew the way you were miles away daydreaming in your office about effectively the same thing and about kissing him. 
He turns his thoughts elsewhere. What to make for dinner. He likes cooking for you and your son. He likes watching your face when you take first bites and is borderline addicted to the smiles you give him, the soft hums you give him that are really almost moans when you particularly like something, the praise of ‘this is amazing Jack’ and ‘god you really outdid yourself tonight’ and ‘fuck that’s good’ and ‘you spoil me’ and ‘this is incredible Jack, thank you for cooking’ you give him. 
But what to make? He could do something he’s made before and knows you like. He could try something new. Or you could get takeout. Make it kind of a mini-date at home. He knows your favorite places and dishes by now and he could wait until you get home to order, ask what place you’d prefer. Depending on how long your son naps and what kind of mood he’s in the three of you could potentially go out somewhere. But you did that last night. So maybe him making something is actually better. So he circles back to the question. What to make?  
While he’s letting ideas for dinner percolate in the back of his mind he thinks about how he needs to set up something so that you can meet Robby and Dana. He wants you to meet them of course but they’re also the two best potential babysitters if you end up liking them and feeling like you can trust them. And you’re going to need one if he’s going to ever be able to take you out on a real date. He loves doing stuff as the three of you, yes, but he still wants to date you. Just you. Do something with you that you guys couldn’t do with your son. Focus on each other.
Jack knows it’ll be hard for you to leave your son and he’s not going to force the issue of course, but he hopes that having a nurse or a doctor as a sitter will help allay at least some of your fears. He should probably think of a good date idea before bringing it up though. 
What if he had you cook with him tonight? If you wanted. Almost like a little cooking class date, just at home. You always talk about wanting to become a better cook. That could be fun right? Your son could watch from his highchair or Jack could baby-wear him with a wrap or the carrier. Depending on how late you get home and how early your son goes down for the night and how late you’re okay eating your son might even be asleep by then. Unlikely but not impossible. 
As he finishes the dishes he decides that he’ll go pick something to make and get a list of things to buy at the store. Then once your son is awake from his nap and maybe had a snack they can walk to the store together, maybe drive depending on how much is needed. 
Jack grabs the clean dish towel to dry his hands. And that’s when he realizes it. When he feels it. Or rather doesn’t feel it. His eyes snap to his left hand. 
No wedding ring. 
Jack’s stomach drops, fingers and toes going cold while adrenaline floods his system and shoves him right into fight or flight, breathing and heart rate picking up. He spins back to the sink, praying that he’ll find his ring resting in the sink or on the grate of the one side and that it didn’t slide down into the pipe on the garbage disposal side. Or that he didn’t lose it somewhere else and is just now noticing. How could he have not fucking noticed the second it came off?
A short burst of relief floods him when he finds it sitting against the grate. He’s quick to pick it up and hold it in the palm of his hand, stare down at it. He still can’t believe himself. That he didn’t feel it when it came off. He knows he was in his head and thinking but still. That’s his wedding ring. That’s her. One of a few things he has left of her and it came off and he didn’t feel it. The ring he’s worn every day for how many years now? And he didn’t fucking feel it come off. He’s the worst, his brain tells him as he slips into mentally berating himself. 
And the thing is, Jack has known he needs to take off his ring, especially now that you’re ready and in a relationship and together. He’s been mentally preparing for it and thinking about it. He’s been trying to work his way up to it. He was hoping to do it this weekend at some point. 
He never expected to not have a choice. For it to slip off while doing the dishes. He’s been doing the dishes for the past five years, scrubbing his hands at work for the past five years and nothing. It never came off. And he knows he does have a choice. He knows he could slip it back on right now. 
But instead he just stares at it in his palm. 
He doesn’t know what to do. It needed to come off. But he wanted to take it off. Have it be an intentional thing. Be talking to her in his mind when he did it, reassuring himself and her that it’s not that he doesn’t love her anymore because he does, he always will. And instead it came off and he didn’t notice. What does that tell her? But if he puts it back on how long will it be until he can bring himself to take it off again? Was he ever really going to work up to taking it off or did something like this need to happen? Is this a sign from the universe? Did it happen on purpose?
A tapping sound on the glass of the window behind the sink interrupts Jack’s thoughts. He looks up and there’s no fucking way this is real. A bird is there on the windowsill looking back at him and tilting its head back and forth at him how birds do. It’s not just any bird though. 
It’s a mourning dove. His wife’s favorite. 
The irony of the name was not lost on him the first time he saw one after she died. It was years ago. Five and a bit years ago. At her funeral. One had landed on her casket and Jack had come a little unglued for a minute, ended up squeezing Robby’s forearm so tight it was bruised for a couple of weeks. 
Since then they’ve become a little thing for him. He tells himself it’s silly, but he feels like they’re her in a way. A kind of manifestation of her spirit visiting him. Because he’s only seen them a few times since then and each of those times has been poignant. A couple of times when he visited her grave. A few times on the roof at work when his feet got a little too close to the ledge. Once after he kissed a woman other than her for the first time after her death. And now that he really thinks about it he realizes that one landed on the ground in front of him as he waited to cross the street on his way to work on the day he met you. 
He looks back down at his wedding ring and picks it up with his right hand, holds his left hand out as he thinks about putting it back on. More tapping on the glass and that familiar coo has him focusing back on the dove. It’s beautiful. Just like she was. It has a unique line of black feathers just above one of its eyes. It makes the usual blue ring that circles a mourning dove’s eye pop even more. 
It has to mean something, Jack tells himself. Except that’s crazy, right? It’s just a bird on a windowsill. It doesn’t mean it’s her visiting and trying to tell him something.
Jack stares back at it. It feels like a sign. All of it. His ring slipping off while doing the dishes at your house when it hasn’t before in over five years of doing dishes. The dove appearing. It feels like her telling him that it’s okay. It’s okay to not wear his ring. It’s okay to be with you. It feels like her blessing. 
He closes his right hand around his ring and the dove looks at him for a few more seconds, gives him a couple more coos before it flies off leaving Jack standing there trying to process everything that’s happened in the last five minutes. But then his mind goes blank for a moment and there’s nothing but the feeling of his wedding ring pressing into the palm of his right hand. 
Jack’s turning so his back is against the base cabinets as he slides to the floor, tears blurring his vision as it slams into him and consumes him. The memory of that ring going on his finger. Her face and how excited she was. How beautiful she looked in her white dress with that veil. How she could barely get her vows and the ring exchange out, not from tears but from giggles. How her it was. How she held onto his finger once she slid his ring on. How she didn’t let go until the very end of the ceremony when she could finally hold his face as they kissed for the first time as husband and wife. How she was obsessed with his left hand all night, constantly holding it and running her fingers over his ring. How she kissed it that night in bed. 
Jack doesn’t even realize how hard he’s sobbing as he clutches his right hand and ring to his chest, right over his heart. It all replays for him. How they met. Their first date. Their second date. Their first kiss. Their first time. Leaving for his first deployment while they were together. Coming back and her running and jumping into his arms, refusing to leave them all night. 
Getting to be home and spend time with her. All the things they did together in between deployments. Going abroad. Hiking. Renting a cottage on the beach in Connecticut for a weekend. Making dinner at home together. Fun dates. Their sadness when he found out he was being deployed again. Her tears when she had to hug him goodbye. His promise he’d come back to her.
An IED. Physical pain indescribable until the adrenaline fully hit as he tried to save the others around him. Looking down and realizing his foot was gone. 
Waking up in Germany. Waking up at Walter Reed to her asleep in a chair next to his bed. Surgeries. Moving to a hospital in Pittsburgh. Physical therapy. Depression. Finding his therapist. Her right by his side through it all. A prosthetic. An honorable discharge. Her being more than he could ever deserve as he struggled to adjust.
Medical school. Medical school graduation. The pride in her eyes and how tight she hugged him and her breath against his ear as she whispered how proud she was of him. Residency. 
Him picking out her engagement ring. Planning the proposal. Proposing. Wedding planning during residency. Their whole wedding. Their honeymoon. Their talks of kids and a house in the suburbs. Her saying how she wanted a group of little boys that were all the spitting image of their father. Plans to start trying once he became an attending.
Becoming an attending. Deciding not to actively try but more to just not prevent and see what happened for a bit. The death of her mom hitting her hard and putting the brakes on kids for a bit. Holding her as she cried. Helping her plan a funeral. Things slowly getting better. The death of her dad just a year later understandably obliterating it all. Holding her as she cried again. Helping her plan another funeral. Things slowly getting better again.
Deciding to actively try and track her cycle. An emergency medicine and trauma conference in Vegas. Hugging and kissing her goodbye at the airport. Dreaming of her surprising him with a ‘welcome home daddy’ sign when he got back. 
That phone call from Robby as he laid in his hotel bed reading some materials from one of the presentations. 
Denial. Numbness. Yelling at Robby that this wasn’t even close to a funny joke. The slow realization it was the truth. A drunk driver had taken her from him almost instantly but the driver got to walk away with a couple of bruises and a broken arm.
Robby getting him a ticket on the next plane home. Crying silently in that hotel bed because this couldn’t be real. Finally feeling it and sobbing in an airport bathroom with the sound of slot machines in the background. 
The blur of getting back home and Robby being there. Robby telling him the details of what happened and her injuries after he demanded them through a yell when Robby tried to tell him he didn’t need to know, that it wouldn’t make a difference and would just torture himself. Jack screaming at Robby and blaming him for not saving her when Jack knew based on what Robby told him that she was effectively DOA. That there was no hope of her surviving. That if the paramedics hadn’t happened to recognize her as his wife she almost certainly would’ve been pronounced on the scene and never even brought in. Dana grabbing him in the tightest hug as his screams turned into sobs, choked apologies and thank you for trying-s to Robby and asking what he was supposed to do.
Considering killing himself. Considering killing the driver that hit her and then killing himself. 
Planning her funeral. Seeing her again for the first time in her casket. Feeling a pain so deep and a grief so profound he was sure he would drop dead. Her funeral. Trying to give a eulogy. The dove. Watching her be lowered into the ground. Feeling like the photo of her to the side of her casket was mocking him. Feeling like a piece of shit for feeling that. The celebration of life after. Spending too much time comforting other people as they came up to him and apologized for his loss and talked about her. 
All consuming depression. Not leaving his bed for days. Laying on his side and looking at her pillow and crying because he was looking at her pillow and not her face. Because he’d never look at her face like that again. He’d never have her laying in bed with him again.
Slowly coming out of the depression. Finding a new normal. Deciding to live for her as much as it hurt. Working at the Pitt. Things getting better and life and himself feeling stable. Visiting her grave. The years eventually blurring together as he falls into a routine and goes to work and comes home and listens to the scanner and sleeps and goes back to work again. Some dates and casual flings, brief romances. Nothing serious. They grow fewer and farther between.  
And then Jack hits meeting you and his mind stops. 
The sobs don’t. The way he rocks himself slightly in an attempt to self soothe doesn’t. The choked out apologies to her for everything don’t. The way it feels like he’s right back there, on the day he lost her and the day he saw her in her casket doesn’t. The guilt he suddenly feels for being with you doesn’t. The guilt he feels for his wedding ring falling off and him not noticing while he was doing your dishes, washing your child’s highchair tray doesn’t. The ache that fucking dove and what felt like her blessing put in his heart doesn’t. 
Missing her so badly he can’t breathe doesn’t. But neither does his want and need and affection for you. 
Jack hasn’t cried like this in a good while. Hasn’t felt everything all over again and watched his entire life with her and the aftermath play out in his mind in even longer. And he doesn’t understand, or maybe isn’t letting himself understand, why he feels so sad and so guilty and why he had to replay everything in his mind. Why he’s still fucking sobbing and clutching his ring so hard it’ll take hours if not a full day for the indent it leaves behind to fade. 
Deep down Jack knows it’s a form of processing. He knows his ring coming off is a huge thing for him and he knows that’s okay and that this reaction is okay. He and his therapist have talked at length and repeatedly, especially recently, about his possible reactions to taking it off. But he didn’t really take it off, did he?
His sobs taper off as exhaustion hits and he runs out of tears. But his feelings don’t stop. He’s a storm of emotions, has guilt in every direction possible. He hits that numbness that accompanies exhaustion though and it’s a nice change, not feeling every emotion even as he knows he still has them. His head feels fuzzy and it gets harder to think.
Jack lets his head fall back against the cabinet and closes his eyes. It quickly becomes apparent to him though that if he stays here he’ll fall asleep here. So he forces himself up and to the guest bed, pretty much just flops onto it, head barely hitting a pillow. He looks at his ring for a few seconds before his eyes start to close, curls his hand back around it and brings it back close to heart as he falls into a deep sleep.
He wakes hours later to the sound of crying. It’s not a screaming cry like something is wrong or your son is deeply upset but still. It takes him a minute to come back to fully, to remember what happened, to remember the thing he’s still clutching in his right hand is his wedding ring. Jack rolls onto his back and runs his left hand over his face and through his hair to try and fight off the remnants of sleep. And he feels it of course, the lack of it, no metal ring gliding over his skin. 
As he sits up he opens his hand to look at his ring. He feels so fucking melodramatic now. It’s a ring. She’s been dead for over five years. It should have come off a long time ago. It’s not like he has to get rid of it. He just won’t be wearing it anymore. And yet he can’t let go of all those emotions. 
He goes to grab the baby monitor from the nightstand, vaguely wondering why the volume is turned so low but it’s not there. He’s confused for a minute but then it hits him. He left it by the sink. Your son was so quiet and he was so exhausted when he forced himself off the kitchen floor that he just left it there. So who fucking knows how long your son has been awake and crying. After it processes completely it jolts him awake, has him setting his ring on the nightstand and all but running to your son’s room, berating himself further the entire way. 
Jack cannot believe he did that. Forgot the monitor. Left your son nearly alone effectively. Him crying is bad enough but what if something had happened? What if he had started choking? What if someone had broken in? What if he’s been in there for fucking hours crying so long he’s going to get sick now? What if you’d come home to Jack passed out in bed and your son crying? How could you ever forgive him? Ever trust him again? More guilt surges through him and it’s enough to make him teary again because you trust him with your son and he forgot the monitor and your son is one and won’t understand why nobody came for him. Why Jack didn’t come for him. Why Jack left him in there crying alone. 
“Hi Baby,” Jack calls to your son as he opens the door and flicks the light on. “I’m so sorry Bud. I hope you weren’t in here upset for too long.” Your son starts to calm the second he hears Jack’s voice and sees him, small arms reaching up towards Jack asking to be picked up. The big alligator tears rolling down his face make Jack’s heart ache as he picks him up, chubby hands grabbing at Jack’s shirt while Jack settles him against his chest. 
Jack bounces slightly, cupping the back of your son’s head with the hand not holding him, thumb brushing back and forth soothingly. “I’m so sorry Honey.” He turns his head and kisses your son’s temple a few times. He’s stopped crying, he did pretty much as soon as he was in Jack’s arms, just the occasional sniffles and small hiccupped breaths as he settles back down. “I’ve got you. I’m sorry, I really am, and I’m here now, I’ve got you.” 
He settles into the rocking chair that’s there in the nursery and rocks with your son, presses a few more kisses to his head, breathing in the scent of baby shampoo. It calms him. Jack keeps whispering to your son, that he’s sorry and he’s here and everything’s okay and he’ll never do that again. Jack glances at his watch. It hasn’t actually been that long, really it’s been about the length of time your son usually naps for, so it’s unlikely he was crying for that long, right? Unless today was the day he couldn’t sleep and woke up earlier. There’s no way to know and Jack hates it, can only hope he woke up quickly and as soon as your son started crying. 
Your son rests quietly on his chest, hand playing with Jack’s shirt a bit to keep himself occupied, cooing and babbling to himself a little occasionally. It’s comforting, holding him like this and rocking. Jack knows he’s doing this more to soothe himself than your son who’s pretty much completely unbothered now. 
Jack thinks about what precipitated his passing out without the monitor as he holds your son close, namely his ring and the dove. 
Jack knows it was some kind of sign from her and the universe. The whole thing. He doesn’t care how it sounds. He knows it was her blessing. Her way of telling him she’s happy for him and he should be happy too and not feel guilty. And he wishes his guilt could be erased that easily, by a dove and his ring coming off. But it can’t. And it lingers. And Jack is so glad he has someone who understands and won’t hold it against him. Because he’s sure he won’t be out of this funk by the time you get home.    
Even though he knows you’ll understand and won’t hold it against him he still hates that he’s going to be a bit off with you, especially when you just started your relationship officially yesterday. Yes, you cried into him last night from grief but it feels different. Jack brought up pet names and asked a question specifically about your husband. That made you think of your husband. This is his ring falling off. Something that needed to happen anyway. His reaction could easily make it seem like he’s not ready for this or isn’t fully ready to commit to you and let her go in a way. And he doesn’t want you to think that because it’s not true. He is ready for this, he wants this with you so badly, wants you and he is ready to commit to you. He’s been ready and patiently waiting for you. 
He knows he needs to try and get out of his head. Your son starting to chew on his shirt pulls him out of his thoughts. 
“You hungry, little man? Want a snack? A real one, because my shirt isn’t going to do much for you.” Jack looks down at your son and pulls him away from his chest gently. “No it’s not,” he says in a bit of a baby voice, smiling and shaking his head at your son. “It can’t taste very good either.” 
Your son giggles up at Jack at his voice and the way he shakes his head, hands reach for Jack’s face. Jack playfully takes one of your son’s hands and brings it up, mouths at it and makes fake eating noises just to pull more laughter. Jack releases the hand and brings your son up a little closer, leans into him and kisses at his cheeks dramatically, tickling his face with his stubble and his hand on your son’s tummy. It earns him more pealing laughter and makes him smile widely at your son. He loves making your son laugh, could spend all day making him laugh. He loves making your son happy and hearing your son’s laugh helps him, makes him happier and relax a bit. It’s damn near audible serotonin. 
Your son’s eyes shine and he looks so happy, like Jack’s the best thing in the whole world and Jack doesn’t feel like he deserves it in the moment. But he tries to shove that aside to just focus on your son. Your son seems to love eye contact as much as Jack does so it’s easy to catch his gaze and talk to him softly, earnestly, almost achingly so. “I love you Honey, so so much. I hope you know that.”
And he does. Jack loves your son like he’s Jack’s own. Jack, like you, would walk straight into a burning building and through flames for him, would jump in front of a car for him, anything, without a second thought, he’d just do it. Instinctually. And if, god forbid, something ever happened to your son, Jack would bleed himself dry donating his O- blood to your son if that’s what was needed. 
Your son babbles at him in response, smiling at Jack and laughing while clapping his hands. Jack laughs with him and then sighs contentedly. “Alright, you. Let’s get you changed and then get a snack and text mommy and we’ll figure out the rest after, okay?”
Jack’s quick to get your son changed and out to the kitchen, turning off the monitor where it sits by the sink and shaking his head at himself. He’s nervous about telling you, about your reaction. He’d understand if you didn’t trust him with your son anymore, if it somehow ruined things. He just really hopes you still will trust him and nothing is ruined. He can pretty much assure you he’ll never do it again.
Once he has your son squared away with a snack and some water in his highchair Jack sits at the table next to him and texts you. Not telling you what happened never even crossed his mind. He debates calling you instead but he doesn’t want to interrupt your workday more than he has to.  
J - I’m so so sorry. I fell asleep and accidentally left the monitor in the other room. I woke up to him crying and I have no idea how long he was crying for. He calmed as soon as I picked him up and is okay now. Having a snack and some water. But I totally get if you don’t trust me with him anymore and don’t want me watching him by myself anymore. I’m so sorry
Jack stares at his phone waiting for your reply. He knows you’re at work and busy and it might be a bit before you even see that he texted you let alone have the time to read his message and reply. And he knows you might not even want to reply. He’s just praying that you give him something so he knows that you know what happened. 
You do. You don’t even take that long all things considered, it’s only a minute or so before those three dots appear. 
You - Hey, it’s okay, you have nothing to apologize for. I’ve done the same thing more than once, I promise
You - All that matters is he’s okay. Not surprised he calmed down as soon as you picked him up, he’s so enamored with you! 
You - And of course I still trust you with him. I’ve seen you with him and how aware of him you are and how in tune, so if I had to bet, I’d say he wasn’t crying long at all before it woke you up. And even if he had been crying for a while, it’s okay. I’d still trust you. Like I said, I’ve done it before more than once. It’s just one of those things that happens. Especially if you need a nap just as bad as he does!
Jack lets out a sigh of relief reading your texts. His head is still a fucking mess from everything and he hasn’t forgiven himself for this, he’s just so good at compartmentalizing it’s all in a box on a shelf to deal with later. 
J - Okay. I really am sorry though and I can pretty much guarantee you it won’t happen again
You reply quickly. 
You - It’s really okay, try not to feel bad about it. I know it’s not that easy but just know that I’m not upset or anything 
A few seconds later before Jack can respond there’s another message from you. 
You - You otherwise okay? 
Of course you’d pick up on it and know. Of course you’d worry about him. It makes Jack feel so good to know there’s someone out there who cares about him that much, who he’s that important to in a non-platonic sense. But at the same time part of him hates that he didn’t hide it better, that he’s worrying you and burdening you with himself. 
J - Yeah, just been a day kind of
J - Mentally. Nothing to do with him
He glances up at your son as he waits to see if you reply. “Good stuff?” he laughs, your son having devoured the cheerios Jack gave him. “Want some more?” Your son giggles and claps a bit as Jack pours some more out for him. “You’re the best, you know that Bud?”
You - I’m sorry, Jack. We can talk tonight if you want but don’t have to of course. Just know I’m here for you for whatever. I think I’ll probably be able to leave a little early today too
Jack bites his lip. He doesn’t know if he wants to talk about it, or how much he wants to talk about it. 
J - I know. And okay but don’t rush home on my account 
He sets his phone off to the side and turns his focus back to your son, scooting a bit closer to him. “Oh, thank you,” Jack chuckles when your son offers him a cheerio in his tiny pincer grasp and Jack lets him feed it to him, much to your son’s delight. He does it a few more times and Jack takes every cheerio offered until the two of them have eaten them all. 
Jack takes your son to the living room, sets him down on the floor and gets down to play with him. If you end up being able to leave work a bit early it really won’t be too long before you’re home. 
Playing with your son is a good distraction until it’s not and the walls of the box he’d put everything in start to crumble and all his feelings and guilt from earlier flood his mind. Jack’s at least able to focus on both your son and those feelings at once, not outwardly showing any distress or being off with your son or suddenly less interactive. The feelings just eat away at him inside. The guilt. 
Jack’s not even that aware of time passing until he hears your key in the door. “Hi!” you call out as you walk in and set your stuff down, kick out of your shoes. You’re glad to be home and done with the week and so excited to have a weekend with Jack. You walk into your living room and smile at the sight of Jack and your son on the floor together playing. 
“Hey,” Jack calls back. He lowers his voice as you walk into the room. “Who is that?” he asks your son, “Mommy home?” Your son claps and gets excited, starts to crawl over to you but doesn’t get super far. “How was your day?” 
“Oh you know,” you sigh. “Work.” Jack laughs softly. “How was your guys’ day?” You walk over to pick up your son. He’s still close to Jack and without even being fully conscious of it you run a hand through Jack’s hair affectionately before grabbing your son, picking him up and peppering his face with kisses, cooing at him softly that you missed him and you love him and did he have a good day with Jack.
Jack clears his throat as he stands up and walks over to sit on the couch. “Oh you know,” he repeats your words with a similar sigh, only his has an edge to it that concerns you. “You know.” 
You turn to really look at Jack as he sits on the couch and he hates the way your face drops when you see him. You can tell he cried at some point today and you’re guessing it happened before he fell asleep without the monitor. Your brows furrow together, eyes widening slightly in concern. Jack shakes his head and sighs, ready to apologize for ruining your mood and Friday night. But you speak first. 
“Jack?” You walk over and sit on the couch with your son on your lap near him, but leave a cushion between you in case he wants space. You’re worried about him, quite a lot. You’ve never seen him look this sad and almost lost. “What’s wrong honey?” 
Jack isn’t sure how to even begin to answer because it feels so ridiculous. You’ve had your rings off for a long time. He bets you weren’t like this when you took them off. And even if you were it was so close to when he died and you were pregnant. 
Jack doesn’t know what to say so he doesn’t say anything and just holds up his left hand. Your eyes slowly leave his and move to his hand. It doesn’t take you long to notice. And Jack can see it on your face the second you realize. Your eyes go back to his. 
“You took your wedding ring off.”
Jack brings his hand down and sighs, shaking his head. “I didn’t really take it off so much as it fell off while I was doing the dishes.” He looks down at his hand. “It’s on my nightstand, it didn’t get lost in the pipes or anything. I just…” He shrugs. He wants to look back up at you but he can’t bring himself to for some reason. “I didn’t expect it. I’ve done the dishes for over five years, scrubbed my hands at work and it never came off. But today it did. And the worst part is I didn’t even notice when it did. I didn’t realize it until I was drying my hands.”
You’re quiet as you try to think of what to say, what you would want to hear if you were in Jack’s position. And you’re trying to shove the massive guilt that’s hit you aside because this isn’t about you. This is about Jack. But if he hadn’t been doing your and your son’s dishes his ring wouldn’t have come off. It feels like it’s your fault somehow. 
“I… Jack I’m so sorry you didn’t get to do it on your own terms.” You want to move closer to him, rest your hand on him and squeeze reassuringly or hold his hand. But you’re not sure if he’d want that. “You can put it back on, Jack. If you need to or want to. That’s okay.”
Jack had a feeling you’d say that. And he can see in the way you shift a little that you want to be closer to him but aren’t sure if he’d want that. He’s not really sure either now that you’re talking about what happened and it’s all that’s in his mind again. “No.” He shakes his head. “No, it needed to come off. My therapist and I have talked about it. A lot,” he laughs dryly. He forces himself to look at you. “Especially recently, because it’s not fair to you. For us to be together and me to be wearing her ring-”
You’re shaking your head as he speaks and you have to interrupt him. “It’s not unfair to me Jack. It’s just not about fairness in general. I get it, you know I do.” And you do. But you can’t lie to yourself and say it wouldn’t be a little hard to see him put it back on, date him while he wears her ring. You’d never say that though and you imagine you don’t really have to. That Jack just knows because he can put himself in the same position. “If you’re not ready to have it off Jack, that’s okay. I promise.” And you do promise, because even if he did put it back on you would be okay with it even if it was a little hard. 
“I am. It’s been over five years. It needed to come off, truly. It was time.” You can see his eyes get a little glassy and it makes your heart ache for him. You know he must have sobbed about it and you hate that he was alone. Because you know what it’s like. You know what it’s like to suddenly no longer have your wedding ring on and be alone when it happens. You have no idea if he’d have wanted you around when he did it but at least he could have had the option. “I was thinking about it anyway. I was going to try to do it this weekend.” Jack bites his trembling lip and looks down for a moment before looking back up at you, the tears now visible in his eyes. “I just thought I’d get to do it. That it would be this intentional thing and I could talk to her while I did it, you know?”
You let out a shuddery breath and feel tears prick the back of your eyes. “Yeah,” you whisper, “I know. And I’m so sorry you didn’t get that Jack.”
Jack takes a breath and shrugs at you, all the emotion disappearing from his face for a second leaving him stone faced. “Stop apologizing. You have nothing to apologize for.” Jack’s eyes fall down to your son as he starts to babble and wiggle against you more before Jack can see your slight flinch at his words. His tone was sharper than he meant or realized. Colder. He almost sounded annoyed. 
You swallow hard. Both of you knew there would be some really difficult moments during your relationship. Days where the grief was all-consuming and the guilt eating you alive. You just didn’t expect one quite this early on while things are still so new. It’s okay that it is one, just unexpected. “Okay, I’m-” You stop yourself before you apologize again and Jack knows it, looks up at you and gives you the smallest amused smile. It falls quickly though when he sees how upset you are. He hates that he’s the cause. “I, you, um,” you let out a breath, “you’re of course welcome to stay here, always Jack, I hope you know that. And I’m here for you and this if that’s what you need. If you want to talk about, or be close or whatever it is that would help you. I don’t want it to sound like I want you to leave. Of course I’d like you to be here but more than that I want whatever you need and is best for you. I just, it’s also okay if you need to go home, Jack. Be alone and have some time to yourself. Time with her. Go visit her, maybe, if you think that would help.”
You look down at your son while you give Jack time to think, shift him on your lap a little and bounce him on your legs, earning you some squealing laughter. 
“Maybe,” Jack finally says. “I don’t know.” He’s not sure what would be better. The thought of being home and alone with his thoughts sounds awful. But maybe some of the guilt would pass if he wasn’t here with you as terrible as he knows that sounds and is. He doesn’t know. His brain just doesn’t know. He’s paralyzed in a way he hasn’t been in a long time. 
“That’s okay, it’s okay to not know.” You glance around the room as you keep bouncing your knees for your son. You’re trying to think of anything that might help him. Emotionally or just help him figure out what he wants and needs. “He and I can go into my room and give you some space, or go take a walk if that would help?”
Jack shakes his head, frowning at the ideas. “No. This is your house. I’m not confining you to a room in your own house or making you leave.”
“You’re not making me do anything Jack, I’m offering.”
“No.” He’s firm in his answer. “Maybe,” he swallows hard, “maybe I should go for a walk.” He’s not sure if being alone with his thoughts is a good idea but maybe a walk would at least clear his mind a bit. But he also feels bad about it, like he’s just leaving you as soon as he’s struggling with grief. He knows it’s a little more than just normal struggling, but still. He doesn’t want to be that guy, doesn’t want you to feel like you don’t help or he doesn’t want your comfort. 
You’re quiet for a moment, looking down at your son and pulling him up when he wants to stand and bounce on your legs. He’s getting close to walking. You’re not upset that Jack wants to leave and needs space, you’re not sad or hurt. It’s not that. You’re worried because you know how hard it is. How one thing in particular can seem like the best answer.
“Jack,” you whisper, force yourself to look at him so he understands your question. “Are you going to come back?” He nods. Jack understands what your question means. Is he suicidal. He hadn’t even thought about it really. It hadn’t crossed his mind as something to do now, largely, he thinks, because he has you and your son. But Jack hates the fact that he made you worry like that. About losing someone else. “Because you really need to come back, Jack.” You’re still whispering. “Even if it’s not to me.” 
Somehow Jack’s heart breaks a little more. “Hey,” he says softly, tilting his head at you. He reaches out and rests a hand just above your knee. “I didn’t even think about that. I’m going to come back, Sweetheart. To you.” He squeezes your thigh as he speaks, hoping his touch and the honesty he’s trying to project through his eyes will reassure you. “I think I should just try a walk and see if it clears my head or helps me decide what I want to do.”
You nod at him. “Okay. I hope it’ll help.” Jack nods at you and you let out a small breath as he gets up and makes his way to the front door. “Just, um, take your phone? Please. And be safe.” 
Jack smiles at you, lets out the softest laugh through his nose. “I’ve got it, yeah. And I will be.” He turns and rests a hand on the door handle but then turns back to you. “I don’t want you to think this means I’m not ready, or that I can’t be in a relationship with you. Because it doesn’t. I just didn’t expect it and-”
“Hey,” you cut him off gently, “I think a really big and meaningful thing on the grieving the loss of a spouse, I don’t know, checklist, for lack of a better word, happened unexpectedly today and so you’re having a really bad grief day. That’s okay. Those days will happen for both of us. And if on your walk you realize you aren’t ready or can’t be in a relationship with me that’s okay too.”
“I won’t.” He shakes his head. “Because even with all these thoughts and feelings and whatever else right now I feel ready and I want to be in a relationship with you. I just need to try and work it out in my head.” Jack takes in a shuddery breath. He feels like such an asshole for doing this to you. “I’m sorry for dumping all of this and then running.”
“You have nothing to apologize for, Jack. I don’t feel like you’re dumping anything. Or like you’re running.” You give him a small smile. “You’re taking a walk to clear your head. That’s healthy.”
“I’ll be back tonight. Even if I decide I need to spend some time at my place, okay?”
You nod at him and he turns back and opens the door, stepping out and locking it behind him so you don’t have to get up. You straighten out on the couch so that you’re facing the TV, holding your son close just like Jack did earlier in the day but letting him stay standing on your legs. 
You hate yourself for it but you start crying. Of course you start crying. You feel like you’re totally usurping Jack’s grief and feelings or using them and him somehow but you can’t stop the tears even as your son bounces on you and giggles. They’re not even for yourself, not really. They’re for Jack and how fucking badly you know he’s hurting right now, how much he’s missing her, how guilty in every way he’s feeling, how conflicted he is. Because you’ve been there since you met him. More than once. And you understand. You know your situations aren’t identical and you’d never say you understand perfectly or completely know what he’s going through but on a fairly deep level you understand. You know the emotions and how easily they can swallow you. You cry because you care so much about Jack and hate that he’s hurting and that you can’t do anything to make it better. 
Jack has no idea where he’s walking to. He considered your suggestion for a moment, going to see her. He knows that’s a kind of fucked up luxury he has. He can just go and visit her whenever he wants. You can’t go visit your husband easily like that. He’s in Arlington, a four hour drive away. And he knows you love that and are glad he’s honored there but he’s sure it hurts at times. It’s actually one piece of this he really can’t imagine. He can’t imagine not being able to go see her whenever he wanted.
But Jack decides visiting her right now doesn’t quite feel right. So he just walks. And walks. And walks. It all runs through his head again. Every emotion and feeling and scrap of guilt. He’s not even really fully aware of the conversation he’s having with himself in his head, of how he’s trying to process. He just doesn’t fight anything and lets it happen.
He’s so completely in his head and on auto-pilot that Jack doesn’t even know where he is or how he got here when he stops walking as he hits the entrance to a park. It kind of freaks him out how he doesn’t remember walking here but he just rolls with it, walks into the park and along the trail until he spots a bench a little off the path near some bushes. 
More than anything at this point, Jack finds himself struggling with the guilt. He feels guilty for doing this to you. For dropping this big emotional thing on you that clearly upset you for him and just leaving. For making you wonder if he was going to come back or if you’d never see him again and be stuck with another loss and cleaning out his clothes and belongings that are at your place just like you had to with your husband’s. For scaring you like that. For forgetting the monitor and letting your son cry. 
He knows that in some sense this guilt will be easier to let go. That it really will fade almost completely with time because he can spend time with you. He can apologize and reassure you. You guys can make new happy and fun memories, smile and laugh together.
Jack knows that’s not true for the rest of his guilt. His guilt for not noticing his ring coming off. For not putting it back on. For letting that piece of her go. His guilt for moving on with you even when he knows that’s what she would want, is what he would want for her. And he thought about that each time he was deployed and made her a video just in case he didn’t come back. He always told her. Grieve and then find someone else to share your life with and be happy with. He wanted that for her. But now that he’s here having to be the one to do it, it feels like some form of betrayal in a way. How could he possibly ever get over her? Jack knows it’s not really about getting over. Because he couldn’t really, in the same way you could never truly get over your husband. It’s not a breakup. Nobody chose to end the relationship. It was ripped away. 
But he knows it’s not betrayal. He knows that being with you, falling in love with you, doesn’t mean he doesn’t love her anymore, doesn’t diminish how much he loves her. Doesn’t make her some figure in his past that he’ll slowly come to think of less and less until he forgets her. He could never forget her and a part of him will always love her. He doesn’t think he could go a single day without thinking of her even if only for a second. And Jack knows that you would never let him. That if the day came where he started losing his memory that you’d be right by his side with pictures of the two of you and your family together but also with pictures of her and her and him together, tell him all the stories he’s told you about her. 
He knows it’s not betrayal and this is what she would want but it’s so fucking hard at times. He wishes he could just call her. Or that she had left a video telling him to grieve and find someone else. Maybe hearing it directly from her would help. But he can’t and she didn’t. All he has is a dove on your windowsill and while it feels so strongly like a sign and her blessing it’s hard to hold onto that belief at times. 
Jack lets out a long breath and closes his eyes, tips his head back and feels what’s left of the heat from the sun and the slight breeze across his face. He should head back soon so he doesn’t get back after dark. Or at least text you that he’s okay and still walking if it does get dark. But he still doesn’t know what to do. Doesn’t know what he needs. Whether to go back to his house for the night or even the weekend. 
He thinks he’s having an auditory hallucination when he first hears it. That coo of a dove. Jack opens his eyes slowly and brings his head back down. And sure enough there on the opposite end of the bench is a mourning dove. He gives a short laugh of disbelief. So he’s having a visual hallucination too, great. Because this can’t be real. And it especially can’t be real when the dove moves and Jack recognizes it as the same one that was on the windowsill. That line of black feathers just above one of its eyes too unique to be a different bird. 
But then a kid who must be four or five yells “Look mommy! A bird!” as they point to the bench. The kid’s mom looks over and nods, says something Jack can’t hear to her daughter. 
Jack tells himself to be relieved that he’s not hallucinating. But it just feels like too much, in every sense. It’s too perfect to be true and mean anything. But it’s also way too coincidental and on point to mean nothing. Right? 
The dove gives a soft coo and then tilts its head to one side as it looks at Jack, eyes almost squinting. He swears it’s a really? look that he’s given Robby a thousand times. Like really the dove had to come find him again to give him the same message. So maybe he is hallucinating. Might as well go full send then. “I’m not convinced that you’re not some very realistic fucking animatronic dove Robby’s controlling off in some fucking bush to try and help me,” Jack huffs and rolls his eyes, doesn’t believe a word of what he’s saying but still.
He can’t believe he’s actually fucking talking to the dove now. Joking with it. He has to laugh at himself and the dove coos a few times as he does, ruffling its feathers again. Jack rubs his face with his hands and shakes his head before looking back at the dove. He bites his lip when he feels that pressure behind his eyes. He won’t cry. Not with this dove. That’s the line. That has to be the fucking line. 
Jack and the dove just look at each other for a few minutes. Maybe it’s true, likely it’s Jack forcing himself to believe it, but it feels like sitting in her presence. He presses his lips in a line as they tremble slightly. “Yeah?” It’s a loaded question. 
He can’t believe he actually just asked that out loud. To the dove. The random bird in a park on a bench. Like it really means something. Like it’s actually her. But Jack wants to believe it is. He wants that comfort. Wants that sign. And he tells himself that’s okay. That it’s human. That humans have been looking for and seeing signs in all sorts of things forever. Jack needs to believe in this. And so he gives himself this and lets himself believe.
The dove coos back at him once. Jack smiles and shakes his head. After a few more coos at Jack the dove flies off. He watches it fly off, laughing as a few tears leak out of his eyes. He brings his head back down and rests his elbows on his knees, holds his face in his hand for a second and gives himself a single muffled sob through his laughter. Because the dove isn’t here now. He’s not crying with the dove. 
He wants to tell you. Jack needs to tell you. And maybe you’ll think he’s totally off the fucking rocker and break it off and that’ll be the real sign. He has a feeling you won’t though. 
Jack wipes his eyes and sniffles and then stands up. He walked on auto-pilot for so long that he actually has to use his phone to get directions to point him in the direction of your place. He feels much better, as kind of crazy as that fact makes him feel. He’ll stay at yours tonight. The whole weekend if you’ll let him. 
Eventually you force yourself to get up. The tears have at least lessened if not stopped completely. You take your son into your room with you and set him on the floor for a second while you change quickly. You don’t know what to do with yourself. Taking a walk with your son crosses your mind but you don’t want to accidentally run into Jack and have him feel like you’re stalking him or can’t give him space. You’re just restless. 
You could go to the park a few blocks up. You doubt Jack is going to go there if he’s taking a walk, it’s not a huge park you can really walk through. But still. You shouldn’t risk it. You sigh and pick your son up, head back to the living room and get down on the floor to play with him like Jack was. You feel like a terrible mother for not giving your son your full attention since you’ve been home so you do your best to go completely into mom mode and forget about everything but your son. 
Two or so hours pass and Jack still isn’t back. You head to the kitchen and put your son in his highchair, get some dinner ready for him. You consider making something for yourself and maybe Jack but you’re not even remotely hungry. You’re vaguely nauseous if anything. But at least the tears have truly stopped and you put in some eyedrops so your eyes hopefully won’t completely give you away when you see Jack again. You don’t want him to feel like you’re taking his trauma and struggle for yourself. 
You’re helping your son eat dinner when you hear the lock turn over and your front door open. It makes your heart rate pick up quite noticeably. You have no idea if the walk will have helped at all, if he’s going to just run in to tell you he’s leaving for tonight or the weekend or forever. Because you can’t help but catastrophize. You don’t even know whether to call out a greeting. But when he doesn’t offer one as he locks the door behind him you figure you shouldn’t either. 
“Hey,” Jack greets you as he walks into the kitchen, kissing the top of your head as he walks by before doing the same to your son who squeals in excitement at seeing Jack. He sounds much better. Happier.
You freeze for a second. It’s not what you expected so it catches you a little off guard. “Hey,” you reply, tracking Jack as he sits down at the table across from you, baby at the end in the middle. He looks lighter. He’s been crying at least a little but he looks lighter and happier and like he found some answers and worked things out and is almost at peace. It gives you whiplash for a few seconds before Jack’s eyes leave your son and turn back to you, that intense gaze of his helping to ground you. He flashes you one of those smiles of his that gives you butterflies. “The walk helped I take it?”
“It did,” he nods at you, still smiling. “Well, actually, it wasn’t really the walk, it was a bird.”
You raise your eyebrows and smile back at him, confusion ghosting your features. “A bird?”
“A bird,” he confirms. “The whole thing is going to sound insane, and like I said yesterday, if you want to kick me out forever at the end I’ll get it. And I’m sorry.” Jack softens a little. “I know you’re going to say don’t be, but I am.”
“And like I said yesterday I very much doubt that’s how I’ll react.” You give him a small smile and turn to help your son finish his dinner. “And you’re right, I’m going to say don’t be sorry because you have nothing to be sorry for. You didn’t do anything to be sorry for.” You glance over at him with a knowing smile. 
“Still am,” he teases and you roll your eyes affectionately. “What do you want to order for dinner?”
You laugh a little. “How do you know I didn’t make myself something and eat already?” 
Jack doesn’t miss a beat. “You never eat when you’re stressed or worried or anxious.” He shrugs. “It worries me sometimes.”
“I-” you start, but have to stop. He’s right. You never eat when you’re stressed. The fact that he cares about you enough to have noticed and have it worry him isn’t missed by your brain and it makes you feel warm all over.
“You know I’m right.” Jack smirks at you. 
“Doesn’t mean I have to like it,” you grumble at him, but have to smile at the sound of his soft laugh. You help your son finish the last bite of his dinner and shrug at Jack. “I don’t know. Whatever you want. Nothing sounds particularly good or bad.” You stand up and grab a pack of baby wipes, start using one to clean your son’s face. 
“I’ve got it, you grab him,” Jack murmurs once your son is clean. 
“No, you take him. You already washed all of this once today. I’ve got it this time.” You turn your attention to your son. “And you want to go see Jack, don’t you Baby?” Your son laughs, holds his arms up and makes grabby hands at both of you really, looking between you and Jack, but eventually settling on Jack. “You really going to tell that face no?” You click your tongue at Jack. 
“I could never,” Jack hums as he picks your son up. “And he knows it.” He bounces your son in his arms a little, smiling at him and making faces. He glances over at you as he does. “Nauseous?” 
You pause before setting the tray in the sink and starting to wash it. You don’t know why you’re surprised. The man clearly knows you and he’s a doctor. There’s probably some outward physical symptoms you were displaying. “A little,” you simper at him, “but it’s passing.” 
“Good.” Jack sits back down with your son and orders something quickly, the lightest of your favorite dishes. “Food’ll be here in twenty.” 
“You didn’t have to do that Jack.” You shoot him a look from the sink. 
“Wanted to.” You shake your head at him with a little smile and bite of your lip as Jack adjusts your son to bounce on him. “Honestly, I had this whole little cooking lesson date at home idea where he and I were going to go pick up ingredients and then when you got home we’d cook and I’d show you things and wear him or he’d chill in his highchair and then… my ring fell off and kind of derailed everything.” The end of the sentence is much quieter than the beginning. 
You look at Jack as you finish drying the tray and set it on the counter. He’s still focused on your son. As much as he’s feeling better he clearly still has some stuff lingering under the surface. “That’s a very sweet idea. I’m sure we can do it someday soon.”
“Yeah.” He nods and glances at you, gives you an uncharacteristically shy smile. “Anyway, I figure once the food is here and we’ve eaten and put him down for the night we could talk? And I could tell you about the bird. A dove, specifically.” 
“I’d like that.” You nod at him and drape the dish towel back over the oven handle and go back and sit across from your boys at the table. “A mourning dove?”
“Mhmm.” Jack confirms, making a face at your son and then tickling his tummy. They’re common enough that he’s not surprised you guessed it.
“Your wife’s favorite,” you say softly, giving Jack an understanding smile when he looks up at you. 
Jack blinks at you for a solid thirty seconds. It strikes him that you said it. As in you didn’t ask it. You said it because you know it’s true. You know they’re her favorite. He must have talked about it once and you remembered. You remembered. “Yeah.” Jack nods, a little dazed. 
Your smile widens a little. “You’re not the only one who notices and remembers things Sweetheart,” you tease him lightly. 
Jack huffs a laugh and rolls his eyes playfully, but his smile makes clear how he really feels. How touched he is. The two of you chat for a bit until the food arrives. Once it does you eat at the table together, your son happy to hang out in his highchair next to you both. You get him down for the night while Jack clears the table and wipes it down. And then you meet him on the couch. 
You pause for a second, unsure of where you should sit. As of late you and Jack have been sitting side by side on the couch and so normally you would just take the seat next to him and not think about it. But you’re not sure where he’s at tonight, if he wants you that close. 
He pats the seat next to him. “Here, please. If you want. It’s okay if you don’t.” 
“No, I do,” you nod as you walk over and sit next to him, put the monitor on the coffee table, “I just wasn’t sure where you were with it tonight.” 
“I appreciate you thinking about it, but I’d like you close. I like having you close.” 
“I, I like having you close too,” you admit with a shy smile and slightly lowered head. You both shift on the couch so that you’re slightly angled and can see each other.
��“I’m going to preface this all by saying I know how crazy and ridiculous some of this is going to sound. But I just… want to believe it. Need to. So I’m trying to let myself. And maybe that’s not the healthiest way to deal with everything, but I can try and figure that out with my therapist later.” You nod and give him an encouraging smile. 
And so Jack begins. He starts with what happened with his ring, finding it. He spells out all of the emotions and guilt and feelings he’s had throughout the day. There are tears from him, moments where you pull him close and let him cry into your neck and chest while you rub his back and kiss his curls. You reassure him at the right times, express your understanding of his feelings and especially of a lot of the guilt. 
Then he finally moves to the dove. He tells you about both instances, at the windowsill and the park and you listen, nod at times and smile. You don’t look at him like he’s crazy or like you’re just putting up with this until he stops talking and you can free yourself. You squeeze his hand and laugh with him when he does. 
Jack shrugs at the end. Even though your reaction has been nothing but positive as you listened he’s still worried about what you’ll have to say. Still feels exceptionally vulnerable. “So, yeah. That’s the story of the bird I guess,” he laughs weakly, clearly somewhat embarrassed. He squeezes your hand that he’s holding to tell you he’s ready to hear what you have to say.
“Oh Jack,” you sigh, squeezing his hand back. His heart races a little faster. He’s not sure what to make of your sigh. “I don’t think there’s any part of that story, of anything you just told me, that’s crazy or ridiculous or insane.” 
Jack lets out a long breath. “Thank you,” he whispers. 
“Nothing to thank me for Sweetheart, I’m being honest with you. That’s what I think.”
“No I know, but…” Jack trails off, not really sure where he wanted to take that sentence. 
“I know.” You nod at him for a second. Now that you have that out there and Jack has relaxed you take a minute to gather your thoughts. Jack can tell it’s what you’re doing by the look in your eye as you keep your eyes fixed on a spot on the wall. Once you have a rough idea of what you want to say you look back at him. “I think it’s like you said Jack. Humans search for meaning and signs in everything. It’s normal. Especially in this context. And I think that if that wasn’t a sign from her then nobody in history has ever truly received a sign from anybody or anything because what happened with that dove was, I don’t even know how to describe it. Intense? Overly coincidental? I guess I don’t know how anyone could have that happen and think it meant nothing and was just two random things that happened at a very specific time with no significance.”
“Okay, good. I’m glad it wasn’t just me.” Jack lets out a bit of a groaned laugh and runs a hand through his hair. 
“Even if it was Jack, who the fuck cares? The only thing that matters is what it meant to you. How it made you feel. What you believe it is. Everyone else’s and the world’s opinions on it are irrelevant. Even mine. To be clear I’m with you on this, I promise. I’m just saying. Nobody but you will ever truly understand what all of that felt like so who is anyone to judge or tell you that your interpretation is wrong?” You shrug at him like it’s so simple. 
And in a way Jack guesses that it is. Because you’re right. Nobody else could ever truly understand. Not even you. “Yeah. I guess I was busy judging myself on behalf of the world about it and never really thought about it like that.” He tilts his head at you. “I’m really glad you don’t think I’m weird for it and that you understand. And uh,” he looks down and grows quieter, almost nervous, “we’re okay, right?” You know he’s asking if you still consider the two of you to be together, a couple.
You smile at him, lean in and press a lingering kiss to his forehead. “We’re more than okay, Jack,” you whisper against his skin, press another quick kiss there and pull back. 
“Good,” he breathes. You look at each other in a comfortable silence for a minute. “Have you,” Jack pauses and debates whether to finish his question. “Have you ever had something like that happen to you? You don’t have to answer either. I just wondered.” 
You raise your eyebrows. “Oh, well, I, um, yes. But not quite in the same way? I don’t know. He…” You look down at your lap and laugh softly to yourself before looking back up at Jack. “My husband, he used to give me daisies. All the time, for everything. Every big thing, anniversaries, birthdays, sometimes just because. Before we started dating I must have mentioned it once and so he actually showed up to our first date with a little bouquet of them, it was very sweet. I actually pressed one of them and have it still. Anyway, after I gave birth, when I was in the hospital I had ended up telling the nurses about him and what happened, and my doctor already knew. They felt bad, obviously, and so because I didn’t really have anyone to celebrate with they all went in on getting me some nice flowers.” You let out a bit of a shuddery breath, eyes a little glassy as you think back on the memory.
“It was a bouquet of daisies,” Jack murmurs. 
You smile at him and nod. “It was a bouquet of daisies,” you confirm. “And I asked the nurse who brought them in if there was a reason for daisies and she said when she went to buy them they just kind of called to her.” You shrug. “So, it’s not quite the same, but in the moment and even now I like to believe that he was somehow behind it and was there with us.”
As much as the memory warms Jack’s heart, parts of it break it too. He still hates the thought of you not having anyone, not having any support during labor and birth and after. Hates how your husband’s death was still pretty fresh for you. He can’t even begin to imagine. “I think he was,” Jack nods, reaching out and taking your hand, hoping it gives you some comfort and doesn’t feel weird. “Both behind it and there with you.”
“Thank you.” You nod at him. “Now whenever I see them I think of him, tell myself he’s saying hi.”
Jack nods and gives you a gentle smile. “He is.” 
After a few seconds you and Jack both shift at the same time, lean in and hug each other. “Thank you for trusting me with all of that. The story and your feelings. I’m really glad she helped you find some peace. I would be regardless of what it was about.”
“Thank you for listening and trusting me with the daisies.” He turns his head and presses a kiss to your temple. 
Neither of you have to say anything else. You both get it, understand exactly what it meant to the other and for the two of you as a couple. You settle against Jack a bit once you break the hug.  
The mood is still a little somber. You guess that’s how you would describe it. You tilt your head and pull it back a little, give Jack a small smirk and try to help pick the mood up. You hope it doesn’t backfire. “You want me to ask Robby the first time I meet him if he has a very realistic animatronic mourning dove that he follows you around with?” 
“Please!” Jack snorts a laugh, “I would love to see his coughed out ‘excuse me?’ and his panicked and concerned eyes looking at me for a second before he gives you the actual fucking nicest, ‘no, I can’t say that I do,’ while internally trying to figure out how he’s going to casually pull me aside nicely ask me ‘what the fuck?’”
You giggle with him as Jack laughs at the thought. “You know I could never, right? I’m way too shy and socially awkward around people I don’t know to do that.”
Jack laughs as he nods. He lets his laughter trail off and grows a touch more serious, the smile he’s giving you dripping with the adoration and affection and gratefulness he has for you. “I do know that, yes, it’s something I lo-” Jack catches himself, “really like about you.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jack is right. Kind of. He doesn’t have to tell Dana and Robby. But they don’t even have to ask to know. Just looking at him is enough. 
“Did Dr. Abbot get divorced?” Trinity poses the question to the group at the hub. 
Nobody answers for a moment. Half the people there don’t know and the other half don’t really want to spread Jack’s business. 
Robby can feel the eyes of the half of the group that doesn’t know on him. He slowly raises his head and shoots them all a don’t gossip look. “No.” He looks at her a little longer. “What prompted that question?” 
Trinity shrugs. “He just used to wear a wedding ring and isn’t now.” 
The iPad in Robby’s hands drops the few inches to the counter as he spins to look at Jack, who apparently just arrived and is speaking with Dana. 
“You have a good weekend?” Dana asks as she looks at Jack over her glasses with a knowing smile. 
“I did, thank you Dana,” he says a little saccharinely. “Did you? Or did you have to work?”
“No I had it off. It was fine. Didn’t do much.” She tries to keep it casual but Jack can see right through it and it almost makes him laugh as he sets his phone on the counter and grabs a few things out of his backpack and puts them in his pockets. “What about you? Do anything fun?” 
You text him and when it wakes his phone Dana’s fast enough to glance down and see his new wallpaper. A photo of the three of you. She keeps her head down as she smiles to herself. 
“I did yeah.” Jack doesn’t offer anything more much to her apparent chagrin. She clocks his ringless left hand when he picks up his phone, her eyes widening and mouth dropping open for a second before she closes it and looks back up at him. Jack looks at her. He knows she knows. “I’m going to put my stuff away now.” 
“Yeah, okay.” She nods at him, watching him walk towards the lockers. Once he’s out of sight she spins. “Robby!” She flicks her head to beckon him and walks away from the hub in the middle of the floor. 
“He’s not wearing his ring.” Robby whispers. 
“I know. And his phone’s wallpaper is a picture of the three of them.” Dana nudges his arm as she says it. 
“Really?”
“Mhmm. Something must have happened.” Dana pauses and glances over Robby’s shoulder to see if Jack is walking back to the floor yet. “He said he had a good weekend and did something fun but he didn’t give any other details.” 
“He’s gonna have to figure out something to say to everyone because Santos already asked if he got divorced because he’s not wearing his ring.” Robby gives Dana a look. They both know Jack is private by nature, but that at the same time he would absolutely hate people thinking he got a divorce. 
“He is.” She nods. “You think we can get him to talk?” She moves her chin subtly to point where Jack is walking back on the floor. 
Robby shakes his head slightly. “I don’t know.” The two turn their attention to Jack, watching as he starts walking to the hub.
He can feel their eyes on him. And they’re not exactly subtle or trying to hide it. He looks at them for a second and stops walking.
Jack sighs before turning and walking into the breakroom. As much as he acts annoyed about it he really does kind of like it. He likes having two people he trusts to talk to you about and show you off to. 
He crosses his arms over his chest as Dana and Robby walk in. “Can I help the two of you?” They both just raise their eyebrows at him. “Aren’t you both off? Go home.” 
“Can’t.” Robby shakes his head and clicks his tongue at Jack. “Haven’t run the board with you yet.” 
Jack scoffs. “Then let’s go fucking run it.” He takes a couple of steps forward. 
“So it led to more?” Dana finally asks, getting Jack to stop walking and cross his arms back over his chest. 
Jack looks at her stoically. “Does it matter to the two of you?” 
“Ha!” Robby laughs. “Yeah it matters Jack! You’re not wearing your ring! It’s been over five years and you haven’t taken it off and now you have her in your life and it comes off? It absolutely matters. She matters! She’s important!”
There’s a little pang for Jack when Robby mentions his ring and his lips turn down for just a split second, but both Robby and Dana catch it. “I didn’t ask if she mattered or if it mattered generally. I asked if it mattered specifically to the two of you.” 
“It does Jack!” Dana smiles at him. “Like I said before, we want to see you happy and support you.”
Jack looks at the two of them for a second before taking a deep breath and settling his hands on his hips. “Yes, if you must know, there’s more than just friendship now.” He can’t fight off the smile that pulls onto his face as he says it. Nor does he really want to.
“Oh yeah?” Dana’s smile grows and she raises her eyebrows at him. 
“Are you like together?” Robby asks. “Like is she your girlfriend? Or is it like the dating stage before you make it official?” 
“Oh my god,” Jack mutters, shaking his head and looking away from them. “Yes, we’re together and she’s my girlfriend, okay?”
“Since when?” Dana beams at him. Jack knows how happy she is for him, knows she and Robby have seen him at his lowest and truly do just want him to be happy and are excited for him and care and are accordingly being affectionately nosey. 
“Really?” Jack sighs. 
“Has to be pretty recent, we’d have noticed otherwise,” Robby says to Dana. 
“Really, I guess,” Jack mutters to himself. “Thursday night, okay? Thursday night.”
“So I’m guessing you haven’t been out on a real date yet,” Dana hums at him. “It’s important to go on dates without the baby. Real dates.” 
“Yes, I know, thank you.” Jack gives her an exaggeratedly annoyed smile. 
“And do romantic things,” Robby adds.
“I do romantic things! I know to do them! I-” Jack huffs and shakes his head. “What the fuck even is this? I don’t need dating or relationship advice! And we’ve been together all of five days, can we all slow the fuck down?”
“Listen,” Dana starts. “I’m just saying. I’ve been in the baby phase before and I know I was married, but it can be easy to fall into a routine and always have him with you. So if you guys ever need a sitter, I’m more than happy to do that for you, okay?”
“I would be happy to as well,” Robby offers. 
Jack nods at them both as he considers. “Yeah, I kind of like that. The idea of his sitter being a medical professional. And I’ve thought about it before. How the two of you would be my preferred sitters. But,” he shrugs at them, trying a little too hard to look uneffected, “he’s not my kid, so it’s not my decision.” 
“For some reason I think she’d take your opinion into consideration pretty seriously.” Dana smirks at him. 
“This would, you know, require us meeting her,” Robby teases him. 
Jack stares at him. “Thank you for that very helpful insight Michael.” 
“I’m just saying.” Robby smirks a little and shrugs at Jack. 
“Yes,” Jack sings the word a little, “she would like to meet you both. We’ll get it set up. Figure out something to do.”
“Good.” Dana nods approvingly. “We’ll be on our best behavior to convince her to let us babysit for you guys. Won’t we Robinavitch?” 
“Why’d you say it like that?” Robby looks at her with mock offense. “Of course I will be.” 
“She’s going to like you.” Jack rolls his eyes at the two of them. “She’s shy though, has some social anxiety. So if she’s quiet and seems a bit reserved it’s just because she’s shy and it has nothing to do with you guys. She opens up more as she gets comfortable but she’s just quiet by nature. So it’s different.” He nods at both of them. They both know what he means. That you’re not extroverted like his wife. That you’re kind of the polar opposite in a way. Jack clears his throat. “Now is there any other part of my relationship you’d like to plan or be involved in? You wanna actually plan the dates too?” Jack asks pointedly, though there’s enough of a ghost of a smile on his face for the two to know he’s not actually mad.
There’s silence for a few seconds but then Robby apparently just can’t help himself. “You have condoms? You should keep one in your wa-”
“Robby!” Dana lightly smacks his arm with the papers she’s holding as Jack glares at Robby with a set face. “Really? Even for you!” Dana shakes her head at him, but it’s quite obvious to Jack she’s biting down a smile. And when she turns back to look at Jack she gives him the quickest flash of a he’s right though look. 
“What? I just like fucking with him sometimes!” Robby half laughs as he twists and moves his body away from Dana and her papers. He looks back at Jack. 
Once he and Robby have locked eyes Jack speaks. “I’m going to give Myrna your home address,” he deadpans so stone faced and stoically he can see Robby have the quickest flash of worry that he might actually do it.
“Oh come on I was joking!” Robby holds his hands out to his side. After a beat he gives the smallest shrug and lowers his voice. “Kind of.” 
“See,” Jack looks at Dana and waves towards Robby, “and I was going to offer to show you guys pictures and then Michael had to open his fucking mouth.”
“Woah woah woah!” Dana shakes her head and moves closer to Jack, holding her hands up in acquiescence. “Don’t punish me for his bullshit! I didn’t say anything. I just volunteered to babysit!”
Robby scoffs loudly. “Thank you Dana, for the solidarity. I’m really feeling it right now.”
“I actually do genuinely appreciate you offering, Dana. We may take you up on that soon. But she’s not going to let you do it for free,” Jack tells her in a much softer voice. He pulls his phone out and starts pulling up some photos to show her. 
“I can babysit too!” Robby offers. “I’m also a medical professional you know!” 
Jack flicks his eyes up to look at Robby, stone faced again. “That’s debatable.” 
“I made one joke! After being so supportive-”
“Shut up and get over here to look,” Jack cuts him off with a slight cock of his head to tell Robby he’s just fucking with him back and not actually upset. “And yes, we might ask you to babysit one day too.”
Jack brings up a few random photos of your son that he’s taken over the months while watching him, a few of him and your son. “God, he is just too fuckin cute,” Dana laughs. 
“The cutest.” Jack smiles fondly as he looks at your son. 
He brings up a few more of your son, a couple of you and your son. Then he hits Thursday. 
“This was on Thursday. It was his first birthday. We took him to the zoo.” Jack laughs softly as he looks at the photos. “He loves animals.” He offers his phone to Dana. “You can go through.” 
Dana does, her and Robby laughing sweetly at some of them and awing at others. She stops on a photo of a three of you that you’d had someone take. “Oh Jack,” Dana coos, “you guys look so happy. All three of you.” 
“Yeah.” Robby nods, smiles to himself. “And that little boy loves you.”
Jack flushes at that. He’s not really sure why but it makes him a little emotional. He watches as Dana flicks through some more photos. “He’s a year old, he’s hit the stage of liking anyone who gives him attention.” He has no idea why he’s downplaying it like he doesn’t absolutely fucking love the fact that your son loves him.
Jack doesn’t have to see Robby to know he’s rolling his eyes. It’s clear in his voice. “That is so not true Jack. And he loved you that first time we met him.” 
“He’s right,” Dana agrees, “babies can be pretty good judges of character. They’ll stay away from and cry around people they don’t like. And he did love you when we met. So just accept the boy loves you.” 
Jack just hums in response. It makes him smile though. He loves your son too. “And she’s beautiful, Jack. You can tell you make her happy.” Dana looks away from the phone and at Jack. 
“Yeah,” he murmurs, smiling as he looks down at you, “she makes me happy too.”
Dana and Robby share a look. “You know she’d be really happy for you Jack,” Robby says softly, talking about Jack’s wife. “She would want this for you.” 
“He’s right again,” Dana whispers, leaning into Jack and wrapping an arm around him and giving him his phone back. 
Jack leans into her in a silent thank you. “Two times in one day,” he says quietly, “someone better mark it on the calendar.” Robby huffs at him but Jack looks up and smirks at him for a second before giving Robby a genuine, slightly emotional smile and tipping his head at him. “Thank you, Robby.” Robby returns Jack’s smile with an identical one of his own. “And thank you,” he tells Dana as he bumps into her and returns her half hug. “Can we go run the board now?” 
“I think we can,” Robby nods, clapping Jack on the shoulder as they walk towards the door. “But hey,” Robby pauses by the door, opening it so Dana can walk out but looking at Jack who raises his eyebrows at him. “You weren’t serious about giving Myrna my address?”
Jack’s stoic look returns, not a hint of real emotion on his face. “Not today,” he deadpans and walks out. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“I feel ridiculous for being this emotional about something so simple. It’s just a haircut.” You shake your head but lean into Jack a bit more as you both stand and watch your son get his hair cut. 
He’s needed it. He has for a bit you’ve just struggled to bring yourself to do it and life got busy. But earlier this week you’d worked yourself up to it and asked Jack if the place he got his hair cut also did kids’ hair. He’d been a little surprised by the question, for some reason it felt kind of meaningful in some way that you wanted your son to go to his barber shop. He told himself that realistically it was probably just because you didn’t know where else to go, but you could have gone wherever you get your hair done, but maybe they just don’t take kids. 
In any event your son is here at Jack’s barber shop getting a haircut. And you had asked Jack to come with you again once you made the appointment. He’d told you that you didn’t need to ask again, of course he would. You’ve been together a little over a week now and things have been good. Steady and sweet. Lots of hugs and forehead kisses and side cuddles on the couch when you’ve both been home at the same time. 
“First haircut, though. It’s kind of a big deal,” Jack murmurs to you, hand rubbing your back. 
“I don’t even know why I’m like this.”
“You don’t need to know why. You’re allowed to just feel. But I’m guessing it’s because it’s a sign of him growing up.” Jack presses a kiss to the top of your head. He’s not super sure how much you’ve thought about the end result but he wants you to be prepared. “Sweetheart, you know this haircut is most likely going to make him look much older?”
You go still and then Jack hears you sniffle. “No!” Your voice gets adorably high-pitched like you’re fighting back tears and you turn further into Jack and rest your forehead in the crook of his shoulder while you let a couple of tears fall. 
“I’ve got you,” Jack says with a sad little laugh, holding you close and rubbing your back. “I just wanted you to be prepared.” 
“I didn’t even think about that, I was just so focused on the haircut generally,” you mumble into him.
“I kind of thought so,” he murmurs, wiping away the one or two stray tears when you pull your face from his shoulder.
“God,” you huff at yourself, “when I said come with me to be my shoulder to cry on I didn’t think I was going to mean it literally.” 
Jack chuckles. “That’s alright, it’s part of what I’m here for. As in right now and generally, you know?” 
You look up at him and smile. You know he means as your boyfriend. “I do, yeah.” 
Later that night you and Jack are in the kitchen grabbing some water to take to bed with you and putting away a couple of things that have dried on the dish rack. You’d just finished watching your current show on the couch together like you often do. Jack had been right. The haircut makes your son look older. You’d had a little moment about it after you guys left the shop but you were able to move past it pretty quickly. 
Something about the day and the night has felt different for you. Jack has been so understanding and sweet and supportive and perfect, not just over the last week and a bit you’ve been together officially but even the three months before that, just in a different capacity. And you want more with him. You want to express your thanks and affection through more than hugs and side cuddles on the couch and forehead and cheek kisses. You want more of Jack. And you feel ready.
He’s putting the last of the dishes away.
“Hey Jack?”
“Yeah, Sweetheart?” His eyebrows raise a little as he shuts the cabinet door and turns to look at you. 
“Thank you. For today. Coming with me and holding me while I cried.” You shrug with a soft laugh. “I’m sorry you have to do so much of that right now.”
“You’re welcome. I was very happy to come, thank you for inviting me.” He walks closer to you but lets you initiate any touching. You wrap your arms around his waist loosely as you look up at him, his arms doing the same. “You have nothing to apologize for though. And I don’t feel like I’m having to hold you while you cry particularly often. Even if I was, I wouldn’t care. I mean I would care in the sense that I fucking hate seeing you upset, but not at the fact that you needed and wanted me to hold you. And I’m pretty sure you’ve held me while I cried recently too.” He tilts his head and gives you a little smirk. 
“I would anytime you needed.” You take a step closer to him and wrap your arms around him a little tighter, one of Jack’s arms around your waist while his other hand rubs up and down your back. 
Jack laughs softly, eyes crinkling so perfectly you could scream. “Same for you.” 
He looks beautiful in the flickering light of the lit candle on the kitchen table. Unfairly handsome with the way his skin glows and with his molten eyes and kissable and suckable lips and salt and pepper stubble. Jack’s thinking the same thing about you in this light. How the flickering light makes your eyes look like they’re shimmering, how the shadows hit perfectly to highlight your features and how the soft glow of the candle makes you look radiant. 
“What are you thinking about so hard?” you ask him a little breathlessly, closing the last of the distance between your bodies so that you’re flush against each other chest to chest, both your and Jack’s arms tightening around each other.
“That you’re beautiful,” he murmurs. “Incredibly so.” 
The smile that pulls on your face is bashful. “Funny, I was just thinking how incredibly handsome you are.” You lean your head up and in towards his, eyes dropping down to his lips for a second before returning to his eyes. “And how I’d like you to kiss me.” 
This close you can just about see Jack’s pupils dilate a little further. God does he fucking want to kiss you. But he finds himself unable to just do it without checking. “We don’t have to do this. You do not owe me. Not for going with you or because you cried and I held you or for anything at all. Ever.”
You nod at him. 
Jack brings his head down towards yours, tilting it slightly, eyes focused on your lips for a moment before going back to your eyes. “Say it please.” 
“I know. I know I don’t owe you,” you whisper, “I promise. I want this. I’ve been wanting this. And I’m ready.” 
“Okay,” he whispers, leaning his head down and towards yours further. Your lips are just about touching now.
“Jack,” you breathe against his lips. 
He nods once. “Yeah? You sure?” 
You nod at him. “Please.”
Jack doesn’t need asked twice. And so in your candle lit kitchen you share your first kiss. He presses his lips to yours in an almost painfully sweet and chaste kiss, holding his lips against yours just the right amount of time before he pulls away to look you in the eye, check in, see if you liked it, if you want more, if that’s enough for the night. 
The look in your eyes tells him all he needs to know just as the look in his tells you. But Jack doesn’t have time to even move in to kiss you again because you’re already kissing him, one hand resting on his chest while the other comes to cup his jaw and keep him close. 
You’re stealing kiss after kiss from each other, most of them starting to linger. Starting to get just a touch hotter. No open mouths or tongue or hard sucking, just more urgent.
Even kissing you Jack is respectful, though you expected absolutely nothing less with how he is, how he treats you. He lets you set the pace, follows your lead. There are soft noises of appreciation from each of you, the sounds slipping out easily even with the relatively chaste kissing you’re doing. 
You can feel the uncertainty of Jack’s hands as they rest against your hips, thumbs rubbing soft circles over your shirt. You know it’s not that he’s not confident or is particularly self-conscious, but that he’s not sure what you’re okay with, where you’re okay with his hands being. It makes you smile against his lips. 
“What?” he asks against your lips as he smiles just because you are. 
“Nothing.” You take another kiss. “You’re just very cute.”
“Oh?” Jack kisses you again.
You nod a little. “Yeah.” It’s mumbled against his lips. Your hands leave his chest and jaw to find his and bring them up to hold your face, silently communicating to him that it’s okay for him to hold your face like that, touch you like that. 
Jack doesn’t get to appreciate his hands holding your face very long because you’re grabbing them again, wrapping them around you and using your hand to make his hand squeeze and grab at your hip and waist, bring one up to hold the back of your neck, kissing each other all the while. “Thank you,” he murmurs against your lips. And he means it. He’s very thankful for you showing him what you’re okay with. 
“Thank you,” you mumble back, continuing to kiss him.
The last kiss breaks naturally and you pull apart. You’re both panting softly, less because you’re out of breath and more because you’re just worked up for each other. 
“That was…” You feel a little lightheaded. 
“Yeah.” Like you, Jack is a little dizzy from kissing you. “That felt so good.” He’s struggling to come up with words.
“Felt so… right,” you laugh, the sound breathless and airy. 
“Good.” Jack nods and smiles at you.  
“Did it for you?” you ask, suddenly a touch self-conscious. “Feel right?”
“Oh yeah, Sweetheart,” he drawls the first two words with a quiet and shaky laugh that says everything you need to know about just how good and right kissing you felt, “that felt right.” 
It’s then you get a good enough flicker of light to really notice the flush of his cheeks and neck. “Good.” You lean up and kiss him again.
The two of you kiss for another minute or so before you naturally break apart again. But this time Jack rests his forehead against yours. 
“We should probably go get some sleep,” Jack whispers.
“I’m not opposed to doing this all night.” You smile. 
Jack’s breathy laugh fans across your lips. “Neither am I. Believe me, neither am I.”
“I know you’re right though.” You can’t help the way your bottom lip pushes out in the slightest pout. 
“I really wish I wasn’t,” Jack groans before pulling his forehead from yours. 
You giggle at him. “But you are.” 
You share smiles before actually grabbing the water you in part initially came into the kitchen for. You grab the monitor and Jack blows the candle out as he follows you into the hallway, illuminated only by the nightlight you have so neither you, nor Jack now, has to blind yourself if you need to get to your son in the middle of the night. 
Like always as of late, Jack walks you to your bedroom door. “Thank you for a great day, Jack. And night.” You lean up and give him a quick kiss. “Goodnight, Sweetheart.”
He smiles at you. “No, thank you. For the great day and fantastic night.” Jack winks at you with a small slightly smirked smile that makes you bite your lip and laugh to yourself, bashful again. He leans back down asking for one last kiss that you’re happy to give him, along with a hug. “Goodnight, Sweetheart.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jack’s finishing up his shift Wednesday morning around 8:30. A trauma had come in right at shift change, so he’s only just had the chance to run the board with Robby. He’s signing off on a few last things and then is out, looking forward to some sleep. 
He nods a quick goodbye to Dana and starts to leave the hub when he hears a baby crying.
But it’s not just a baby crying. Jack would recognize that cry anywhere. Ice starts to spread through his veins.
Your son is here and crying and he is decidedly not happy. It’s not his usual cry. And for Jack if your son is randomly showing up here in his ED and not happy and crying the way he is, it means something is wrong. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I hope it was okay and worth the wait and you enjoyed and I would love to hear your thoughts and comments! They give me much joy and inspiration! Liking, replies and reblogging are so so appreciated! My inbox is always open for thoughts, comments, and general screaming! As are my DMs! 🙂
Do we want more of these two? I have like seven thousand ideas for the two of them if more than just myself would like to see more of them lol. The next couple of parts would probably less time jumping like this one and then I think it would probably pick back up again. Let me know if you'd like more!
Thank you for all your support and for reading!! ♥️
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Quiet Part 2
Widower!Jack Abbott x Widow Single Mom!Reader
Part 1 can be found here!
23.9k || All my content is 18+ MDNI || CW: DOMESTIC JACK WITH READER'S BABY; Shy!Reader; Jack was in the army; reader's husband was in the army and died while deployed; discussions of loss of spouse; discussion of the death of Jack’s wife; suicidal ideation; briefest mention of thought of murder suicide (NOT directed at reader, in the context of Jack thinking about the guy who killed his wife, literally a single sentence); discussion of Jack’s injury; reference to death of parents (not Jack’s or Reader’s); grief; like lots of grief; guilt; so much fucking guilt for Jack and Reader; self hate for a bit for both Reader and Jack; baby is a boy but is not named; a bird; reference to past pregnancy, labor and delivery; crying; DTR conversation; thoughts about sex; angst; no use of Y/N or related
Summary: You and Jack define your relationship and work through more grief and guilt together.
AN: Twenty years later here we are with Part 2. Sorry about that 😅. Hopefully it was worth the wait. I don't know how I really feel about this (I know exactly how I feel and it's not fantastic but when is it ever). This is different from Part 1 in that there is less time jumping, but I think as they now are truly establishing their relationship and not working towards having one it makes sense. We also see considerably more emotion and grappling from Jack in this part. I considered doing a much more zoomed out kind of story with them but I like exploring emotions and such apparently so I didn't keep it as kind of quick to develop and move through their life as I originally thought I would. I don't know if that's good or bad, but it's reality lol. Again, it's kind of emotional but sweet in the beginning, and middle, but it gets funnier and fluffier (I hope) at the end. Anyway I hope you enjoy and thank you for reading!♥️
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“I’m so sorry,” you murmur to Jack as you pull away from him a little. “I really thought I was ready.”
You and Jack have been home for a few hours now, sitting on the couch and starting a new series together. Your son is out hard from his big birthday adventures, didn’t even stir as Jack changed him into some pajamas and put him down for the night while you trimmed the end of the rose Jack gave you and put it in a slim glass vase. 
You’d spent most of your time on the couch leaning against Jack. You like being close to him, like feeling him next to you, warm and sturdy and soft and safe and real and alive. The little voice in the back of your mind telling you this was wrong and to think of your husband was still there, and at times you did feel some confliction, but with the help of your therapist and time that voice had become nothing but a whisper most of the time and more easily dealt with if it got a little louder. 
By the time whatever platform it is asked whether you were still watching Jack had his arm around your shoulders and you were pressed firmly against his side with your head resting against his shoulder and chest, one hand in your lap and the other resting on the lower part of his thigh. You’re in that same position now only you’re both turned in towards each other a bit more and the hand that was in your lap is cupping Jack’s face, your head no longer resting on him. 
When he’d asked if you wanted to watch another episode or head to bed you’d responded by asking to kiss him. Jack had eyed you carefully as he said of course, and that he would like that, but only if you were ready. And you were so sure that you were until you lent in to do it. Hence your apology.
Jack shakes his head a little, leans into your palm where it’s still cupping the side of his face. “Why are you apologizing? It’s okay to not be ready. I’m happy you told me and didn’t push yourself to do something you weren’t ready for. That’s what I want.” 
“No, I know.” You sigh and look down, thumb brushing over Jack’s cheek absentmindedly. “I just feel bad because earlier on our way back I said I was ready for this, for there to be an us, and maybe a little more and now I’m not ready for a little more.”
“I know it’s not easy and me saying this doesn’t make it all better, but please try not to feel bad. It’s okay. And I mean it.” Jack watches you carefully to gauge your reaction and make sure he’s not overstepping as he sets his hand on top of yours and squeezes gently to get you to look at him again. You do, and it hurts him to see how frustrated and upset with yourself you look. He knows how hard this all is. How easy it is to feel like you’re being disloyal. How hard it is to be vulnerable again. He wishes he could make it better for you, take away your struggle because he doesn’t like seeing you struggling and the concomitant hurting. “I’m glad you told me and listened to yourself. I want you to truly be ready for every step of this. I’m not going anywhere just because you say you’re ready for something and then the moment comes and you’re not. You don’t owe me anything, ever.”
“I know,” you mumble, looking away from him. “I just wanted to be ready. I want to kiss you, I really do. I want to give you that, give myself that. I just…” You sigh and pull your hand from his cheek, resting it back in your lap. You’re disappointed in yourself even though you know you shouldn’t be. You did a lot today, gave Jack and yourself a lot. You started a relationship for christ’s sake. You know he has no expectations of you but for some reason you apparently have them of yourself and holding hands and starting this with him and kind of cuddling him on the couch apparently don’t meet them. “I don’t know. I don’t know why it’s so hard.” 
Jack shakes his head slowly. “It was for me too at the beginning. I’m not sure I could articulate why either, but I understand, I promise.”
“I feel like I’ve ruined an otherwise great day.” You look up at him, eyes a little glassy. “And I want this Jack, I’m ready for this. For us to be in a relationship exclusively… for us to be a couple. I want that. A lot.” 
“Hey,” he draws the word out as he tilts his head at you, “you haven’t ruined anything. I promise. I had a great day. The best day I’ve had in a long, long fucking time. I’m really glad you invited me.” He tentatively grabs your hand from your lap and laces your fingers together. “I want that a lot too, to be in a relationship with you, exclusively. To be a couple. So let’s do it, yeah?”
You squeeze his hand, eyes rounded more than usual and brows pulled together. You can’t let go of this undefined concern you have. You’re happy, you genuinely are. Butterflies flutter away in your stomach at the thought of finally being with Jack and at the way he’s looking at you, small, excited smile and sparkling eyes. Like you just gave him some huge gift. It feels like you’ve given him barely anything. “Yeah, let’s do it.” You nod, give him a small smile and laugh a little, almost embarrassed for some reason. Jack is just so handsome and such a good man and you’re having such a vulnerable conversation and admitting your feelings for him. And even though you have before you still find yourself feeling like a teenager almost. “We’re a couple.”
Jack’s smile widens and he nods. “We’re a couple.” He leans forward just slightly before he stops himself. If you were ready he’d have leaned in and kissed you then. And if he’s honest with himself he is disappointed a little bit, but not with you, just that he can’t make you feel good like that, can’t show you how happy he is through a kiss, can’t claim you like that. Because he’s possessive already. He feels it, hard. Harder than he should this early on maybe. 
He looks at you so intensely, is clearly over the moon about this. You don’t realize you’re looking at him the same way, that he can tell how happy you are, how much you want this. 
You groan a little but keep your smile as you let your head fall against the side of his chest. “What?” he laughs softly. He lets his other hand come down and rub your back a little, hyper focused for just a second to gauge your reaction and make sure this is okay. He struggles with the line between asking and trying things because he doesn’t want to make you feel like he’s afraid to touch you, but at the same time he wants to be respectful and not make you uncomfortable.
You shrug against him. “I don’t know. I just feel like… a teenager learning her crush likes her back,” you laugh a little, words slightly mumbled against him. “And I guess I don’t understand it. Why you want me when I come with so much… baggage. And a baby.” 
Jack hums a little and you can feel the vibrations. It makes you shiver. Makes you imagine feeling them in a different context, your head resting on his chest after sex when he hums at something you say or how you run your hand over the part of his chest your head isn’t occupying as you curl into him. “Well, I think our baggage matches. Same pattern, maybe a different color since it’s not exactly the same. Or what is it the youths say these days. Different font.” 
You snort a laugh against him and pull back to look at him. “The youths? Different font?”
“What?” he laughs. “We get a lot of new grads on night shift. They teach me their lingo, keep me up to date and cool.” 
You give him a lopsided smile and tilt your head as you raise your eyebrows slightly. “Lingo?” 
Jack shakes his head. “I never said they were replacing what I grew up with.” He smirks at you. “And back to your point, you come with a baby and I come with baggage and missing a foot with extra trauma and PTSD from that. We all have our things. I want you because you’re beautiful, on the outside yes, but on the inside too. You’re a beautiful person. Caring, selfless to a fault sometimes, giving, funny, adorable, empathetic, so empathetic I know it makes you hurt at times, strong, you have to be the strongest person I know-”
“Jack,” you cut him off, unable to stomach anymore compliments that part of you disagrees with. “Thank you.” You smile and give a breathy laugh. “I’m not sure I understand it still, but… I know how genuine you are.”
He nods slowly. “Can I admit something? It might freak you out and if it does you can tell me to shut up or to leave and never come back-”
“Yes, and I very much doubt I’ll react like that.” You give him a knowing smile. 
Jack grimaces slightly, not quite in disbelief but in a you-haven’t-heard-what-I’m-about-to-say kind of way. He takes a deep breath and then lets it out. “I think we were supposed to meet. I never believed in fate or anything like that but then I saw you,” he shakes his head a little and looks away from you. “I saw you and I was drawn to you. It felt like I was supposed to know you. And then when I walked into the room with you it felt like I’d known you forever. You were familiar. It felt like I knew you’d understand me even if I didn’t know why at the time. And you do. Not just because we’re both widows but,” he shrugs, “you just get me. And I still feel all of that today. I have every day since we met.” 
He forces himself to look back up at you, stomach churning at the thought of seeing your reaction. Because he gets how that sounds, how it could make him look almost obsessive or kind of insane. But you’re just smiling softly at him. And your heart and your mind and your lips ache to kiss him, but you know that emotionally you’re not there. That it would be too much all in one day. 
“I felt the same thing,” you admit. Jack’s eyebrows raise and his head pulls back a little at the shock. He’d felt it in the room that day, like you felt whatever was between the two of you too, but he’d since convinced himself that he was projecting and just wanted you to feel it so he was telling himself it felt like you recognized it too. But you apparently really had. “It kind of freaked me out with how exhausted and scared and emotional I was,” you laugh quietly. “But believe me, I felt it too. Like we were supposed to know each other and were meeting for a reason. And believe me, my therapist and I have talked about it and then some because it was hard for me at first. The idea of this first sight kind of thing.”
“Really?” he whispers. 
“Really.” You nod. You squeeze Jack’s hand and drop your eyes. You hate that you can’t kiss him, don’t understand why you don’t feel ready for that. It’s just a kiss. One that you want. You hate your brain for it, for allowing your grief to still control you. Deep down you know it’s not that easy and you know that the kiss is a big deal because it’s with Jack and it’s going to mean something. It’s going to make you feel so many things. Things you felt for your husband. You need him to know though. That you do want him physically. “I really want to kiss you right now. I just want you to know that. That I do want to kiss you. And want more with you, physically. I wish that I was ready. I wish I could give you more physically so this felt like a real relationship.”
Jack can hear the emotion in your voice. He knows you’re probably closer to tears than you want him to know and that you’re beating yourself up pretty badly inside. He hates it. “Hey,” he says softly, slipping his hand out of yours and using his index finger to tilt your head back up to look at him when you don’t resist. He moves his hand up so that it cups your cheek. “This okay?” His eyes dart around your face looking for any hesitation or sign of distress as you nod and lean into his hand a bit. “First, I think we do more physical stuff than you think. Holding hands. Kind of cuddling on the couch. That’s all physical. But second, and more importantly, the physical stuff isn’t what makes or defines our relationship, yeah? You’re putting too much pressure on yourself I think. Probably being pretty mean to yourself. I don’t need to be able to kiss you to feel like I’m in a real relationship with you. I don’t need anything physical in particular to feel like that. Do you?”
“No.” You shake your head and then shrug a little. “But, I don’t know, I just think that sometimes for men it can be different maybe.”
Jack smiles at you. “Guess I’m not every man,” he teases with a little smirk. His heart soars when it makes you laugh a little. “What I need to know that I’m in a relationship with you is to know that you want to be in one with me, that you consider us to be in one, that you know I’m here for you for anything and everything, that I want you to tell me everything, that you know there is no judgment from me, and that you know that I know the same is true for you towards me. The physical stuff will come with time as you feel more ready. It doesn’t matter how long it takes. I’m content and happy in this relationship just as it is now. I promise. And I meant it too. You don’t owe me anything. You don’t need to give me anything in a physical sense for me to be happy or feel secure in our relationship.”
“I know,” you whisper. “I do, I promise. And I don’t need it to be happy or secure either but I want it. And I know you want it too.”
Jack squeezes your face softly and lets out a breath as he looks away from you for a second. You know he’s conflicted. He knows you know. It’s hard to formulate an answer because the last thing he wants is for you to feel pressure or like he’s just going to be in this relationship waiting around for the day you can kiss and makeout and have sex and then he’ll become really invested. But he also can’t lie to you and say he doesn’t want you. 
He returns his eyes to yours and hopes his reflect how genuine and honest he’s being. “Of course I want it. Of course I want you. Look at you.” Jack’s eyes trail over all of your body he can see in this position and the way he looks at you feels unholy in a way, needy and lusting and reverent. So incredibly reverent. You already know when you do get there Jack is going to worship you. He already looks like he’s ready to get on his knees just for the opportunity to gaze upon you, clothed or unclothed. “I’m not going to lie to you and say I don’t. But I need you to know I’m not going to be in this relationship just sitting around waiting for the day we can do more and have sex and then I’ll become truly invested. I’m all in now. I’m invested in this, in us and our relationship now. Okay?”
“Yes, but, Jack,” you shake your head at him a little, look desperate for him to hear and believe you, “please don’t think I doubted that for a second. Your commitment and investment. That’s not what I meant or how I meant to make it seem because I wouldn’t be ready and I wouldn’t be doing this with you if I felt like that for a second, I promise.”
“Hey, I didn’t think you did,” he soothes, thumb brushing over your cheek. “I just needed to say it for myself and so that you heard it explicitly from me.”
“Okay. Good.” You nod. “Good. I’m sorry, I know I’m making this a big deal and way more complicated and long of a conversation than it needed to be.”
“Please don’t apologize. You’re not doing any of that. We’re just having a conversation and communicating so we both know where we are. That’s healthy. And you voicing your worries and anxieties and your thoughts, that’s important. That’s what I want. I want to hear all of that kind of stuff.” He smiles at you, just a hint of a smirking edge. “I want to be there for my girlfriend, yeah?”
You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding at girlfriend. You knew that’s what you are, what you defined during this conversation but hearing it is different. It makes your heart race. “Yeah.” There’s barely any substance to the word with how breathed out it is and your reaction to the word makes Jack chuckle to himself a bit. You really are adorable. 
He knows this next question is going to fluster you further, but it’s an important one for him so that he doesn’t cross a line. “If you know, and it’s okay if you need a bit to think about it, how are you feeling about pet names? Being called one.” 
“Oh.” You blink at him. “I um…” You look down at your lap, suddenly even shyer than usual somehow with Jack’s intense gaze flustering you further. You don’t know what you were expecting him to ask but you guess it wasn’t that. It makes your brain a little fuzzier as you try to figure it out. You can’t believe Jack wants to call you a pet name. It’s sweet. And the way he asked and didn’t just do it is even sweeter. Toothache sweet. “Yes, yeah.” You nod at him and clear your throat, looking back into his eyes. “I’m okay with them. I can’t believe you want to call me one,” you laugh softly but incredulously, “but, um yeah. Yeah, I would like that. And you? Would you, or how, how do you feel? About them. Pet names.”
Jack beams at you, nodding a little. “I have to tell you that you’re so adorable when you’re flustered like this. When you get a little shyer on me.” His voice is lower than it normally is and Jack forces himself to keep looking into your eyes and not to glance down at your lips. He lets his words linger for a few seconds before clearing his throat and answering your question. “I would like that too. If you’re ready to use one with me, and it’s okay if you’re not.” You shake your head at him to indicate he doesn’t need to worry about that. That you are ready. 
“You have to tell me the one, though.” You cock your head at him, eyebrows pulling together in confusion. Jack swallows hard, his heart rate picking up. It’s always hard, bringing this side of things up. And he knows it’s liable to send you into a bit of a spiral, to shove your loss and your grief in your face, and on today of all days. He hates it. But not knowing might lead him to inadvertently hurt you worse one day. “The one I’m not allowed to call you because it belongs to you and your husband.” 
“Oh,” you say again, breathe it out this time as your eyes find the folded American flag in its box on display. You didn’t even think about that. And you are so so glad that Jack did because you know if he accidentally called you that one it would have sent you spiraling so hard. Just the question has your mind spinning a little because now it’s like a montage in your head, it’s all you can hear. Your husband calling you Angel. Jack knows what’s happening, what’s playing out in your mind. He recognizes the specific glaze to your eyes. And it’s happening for him too a bit. A montage of his wife calling him Darling. Always Darling. Almost never Jack. 
Jack’s hand pulling away from your face to take your hand again and squeezing it is what brings you back. You bring your eyes back to his. “Angel,” you whisper. 
He nods. “Darling,” he whispers back. You know what he means. That’s his one. 
You feel the tears stinging your eyes but you huff a laugh instead of cry. Jack’s eyebrows raise slightly. “I’m just realizing how fucked up that is. I never thought about it before. Angel. He called me Angel and then he went off and fucking died and became one if you believe in that shit.” You click your tongue behind your teeth as the tears start to fall. Because he died. Because he called you Angel. Because it’s your son’s first birthday and he isn’t here. Because you’re with Jack and you’re happy and it suddenly feels so wrong even though you know it’s what he would want. “Fucking Angel,” you whisper as you devolve into quiet tears. 
You’re not even fully conscious of doing it because it’s just so natural and feels so right. You crawl fully into Jack’s lap and curl into him, one arm wrapping around his neck and your other hand fisting at his shirt as you bury your face in his neck and slowly devolve into quiet and muffled sobs. 
The move shocks Jack into complete stillness for a moment. It’s by far the closest the two of you have ever been, the most physically intimate. And he’s so aware that you’re this close and sobbing into him over your dead husband. He feels responsible for your sobs too. He brought it up, forced you to think about it. He just didn’t want to call you the wrong thing. 
His mind spins as he tries to decide what to do. Is it taking advantage of you and your completely vulnerable state somehow if he reciprocates your touch right now? Do you want his touch? Would it be comforting? Will you think it means something negative if he doesn’t touch you? You wouldn’t have climbed into his lap and be clinging to him if you weren’t okay with him touching you and weren’t seeking out comfort from him, right? 
Jack wraps his arms around you slowly, paying close attention to see if you stiffen even slightly or show some other sign of discomfort. He lets one hand rest on your back and the other over your hair on the back of your head to hold you close. When you cling to him tighter in response he tightens his grip around you in turn, hoping the pressure will help ground you. “I know,” he murmurs. “I know.” 
You hate this. Hate being like this and asking Jack to deal with it and intruding on his space and ruining everything with your tears. But Jack is comfort. He’s your boyfriend now and he understands the reason you’re sobbing, the pain behind it. The grief. You trust him with this side of yourself, want his comforting touch and the grounding he offers even as your heart breaks for your husband and what you lost. You didn’t mean for this to happen and you know Jack feels responsible but it’s not his fault. He didn’t make it happen, didn’t make you feel like this. 
“I’m sorry,” you choke out against his neck in between hiccupped sobs. You immediately feel him shaking his head, hold you a little closer. 
“You have nothing to be sorry for.” He keeps his voice low, starts rubbing your back. “It’s okay. Let yourself feel it. I’ve got you.” Jack rocks you gently. “Let it all out. I understand. And you’re okay, you’re allowed to feel these feelings with me, okay?”
The way he knows exactly what to say makes you sob harder for a moment as you take every whispered reassurance to heart. “It’s so unfair Jack,” you sniffle against him before letting out a more audible sob, “for both of us, it’s so unfair. I hate it, I hate it so much. And, and I wish I could make it a little better for you like you, like you do for me. I’m so-sorry.”
Jack barely has time to process the stinging in his eyes before tears of his own are sliding down his face. For all of it. For you. For your loss. For his wife. For his loss. For how right you are, how un-fucking-fair the world is. For how you think you don’t make it a little better for him. 
“It is,” he whispers, “it’s so fucking unfair.” Jack takes in his own shuddery breath. “And you do, you do make it a little better. I promise.” He sniffles, goes to kiss the top of your head but stops himself, nuzzles his nose against you instead. 
It takes a bit longer for you to cry yourself out. Jack’s tears stopped well before yours and he never stopped whispering to you, never stopped holding you. Never made you feel like it was too much. Like you were too much. Like he needed this to stop and you to get out of his arms and leave him alone. Never rushed you.
And he keeps holding you once you stop crying, his hand still rubbing your back and the other still holding the back of your head to keep you close to him. You get to a point where you’re mostly quiet, only the occasional sharp stuttery breath. “I’m sorry,” you mumble against Jack’s neck. “That was unfair of me.”
He shakes his head. “No it wasn’t. You needed to let out some emotion. That’s part of what I’m here for, to hold you through that.” 
You shrug in his arms. “I don’t want you to think you caused it. By asking. I’m glad you asked.” You shift a little, pulling your head from his neck and resting the side of it in the crook of his shoulder, his hand on the back of your head quickly wiping the remnants of his tears and then coming down to wrap around you. “I… I don’t even know what that was. Or why it happened. It just does sometimes.” 
“It does for me too,” Jack murmurs. “And you don’t need to know what it was or why it happened. It can just happen.” 
It’s then you can hear the remnants of tears in Jack’s voice and the realization you made him cry is enough to bring you back to the brink of tears. “I’m sorry for making you cry and hurt.” Your whisper is so low he barely catches it. 
“You didn’t,” he says firmly, trying to emphasize that it wasn’t you. “You didn’t anymore than I made you cry and hurt.” He shrugs. “The world did,” he says simply.
There’s a lot more you want to say to that but you don’t. Because it doesn’t really matter at the end of the day. It happened. It’s the past now. You cried clinging to each other on your couch and made it to the other side of that overwhelming grief together. All you want is to be closer to Jack somehow. 
You shift again, pulling your head away from Jack’s body so that you can look at each other, his arms loosening around you automatically so that you’re free to move, to get off him if you want. But you don’t want that. 
“Jack?” Your voice is a little shaky and it feels so dumb to have it be shaky over what you’re about to ask him to do. It’s barely anything but for some reason it feels huge right now.
“Yeah?”
“Will you kiss my forehead?”
His eyebrows raise. It feels huge for him too right now. Almost as intimate as kissing your lips. Jack’s eyes search yours. “You sure?” 
He has to check. Has to make sure you really do want it and are ready for it. You nod, smile at him and his concern and need to check softly. He cares about you so much. Cares about your relationship so much. Doesn’t want to hurt you or ruin anything. “I am. I want it a lot. If you do.”
“Yeah, okay,” he whispers a little breathlessly. “Yeah, I want it too.”
He moves slowly, giving you time to pull away and change your mind. His hands move to your neck, thumbs along your jaw and he nods with slightly raised brows, asking if it’s okay. You nod a little and lean closer into him.
Both your and Jack’s eyes flutter closed when his lips make contact with your forehead. He doesn’t linger with this kiss, just plants a kiss on your forehead and pulls back a bit to see how you react and if you pull away. When he sees a smile ghost your lips and you stay where you are he leans back in for another and lets this one linger, lips pressed to the soft skin of your forehead for a good thirty seconds before he pulls away. 
You let your eyes flutter back open. “Thank you. I, I liked that. If you ever wanted to do it again. That would be okay with me.”
Jack gives you a crooked smile, gaze as intense as ever. “I like that too. And I would like to do it again, yeah.”
You nod at him. “Good,” you whisper. Your eyes leave his and track the tear stains on his cheek and neck until you see the mess of his neck and shirt that you made and cringe. “I’m so sorry I got you and your shirt all snotty and gross.” 
Jack chuckles. “I’m a doctor. That doesn’t phase me for a second. It’s one of the most benign bodily fluids to get on me.”
“Still.” A rather large yawn hits you and you cover your mouth, shaking your head. “I’m so sorry, that just came out of nowhere.” 
Seeing you yawn makes Jack yawn of course and he similarly covers his mouth. “It’s been a long day and crying can make you tired.” Jack lets his hand rest on your hip, watching you intently to see how you react. “You should get to bed and get some sleep as much as I’d love to stay out here and talk with you all night.” He squeezes your hip gently. 
“Probably, yeah.” You yawn again, this one not quite as big. “Definitely, apparently,” you laugh. “You should get some sleep too.”
Jack laughs with you. “Yeah, probably I should.” He offers you his hand to hold as you slide off him and stand up, grabbing the baby monitor. Once you take a step away he stands up behind you, rests his hand on your lower back as he walks you over to your bedroom door. “I had a really great day. Thank you for inviting me to spend it with you. And um,” Jack blushes again and looks away from you for a second. You have to bite your lip at it as you smile because it’s so cute and you can’t believe talking to you, anything related to you, is making him blush. He looks so cute flustered. You get it. Why he said it earlier. “I’m,” Jack clears his throat as he looks back at you, cheeks still a little tinged with pink. “I’m really happy about us.”
You beam at Jack. You know you must look ridiculous, so overly excited and happy. The whole thing is kind of surreal and even though you’re in your house in front of your bedroom door and Jack’s about to walk down the hall and into the guest room it feels like him dropping you off at your front door after a first date. “I am too.” His words echo in your mind and it’s a little bold for you but you’re just following him really. “I have to tell you that you’re so adorable when you’re flustered like this. When you get a little shy on me.”
Jack laughs, shaking his head at you. His blush deepens and you really could scream at how adorable he is. “Yeah, well, you have that effect on me. You wanna talk about feeling like a teenager.” He rolls his eyes at himself playfully. 
“I totally get it,” you giggle. You get slightly more serious, the giggle fading away while the huge, what you’re sure must be at least slightly goofy, smile doesn’t leave your face. Jack’s smiling too though, just as happy and excited as you. “Are you going to tell Robby and Dana?”
“Oh,” Jack scoffs a laugh and runs a hand through his hair. It shouldn’t make your heart stutter the way it does. “I don’t think I’ll even have to. They’ll just know. Just from looking at me the next time they bring you up. Which will be the next time I see them.” He shakes his head at them and then looks back at you, cheeks a little pink again, that boyish, slightly flustered smile gracing his face. “Are you okay if I show them pictures? Of him? And uh, you and him? And all of us?”
“Oh, um, yeah. Yeah, of course.” Now you’re the one flustered thinking about Jack wanting to show you and your son off. 
“Thank you. I know they’ll enjoy seeing him. Anyway,” he nods at you, “I should let you get some sleep.”
“Can we hug?” You blurt out before Jack can say anything else. 
It catches Jack off guard so it takes a second to process, but his smile widens as it does. “Of course we can, if you’re ready for that. I would like that.” 
You nod. “I am. Not really that much different from the couch, is it? Except I won’t be sobbing into you this time.” You laugh breathlessly just at the thought of hugging him and him wanting to hug you. 
“True,” Jack laughs softly with you. “If you need to cry again you can of course. And I’m going to let you lead, okay? Show me how tightly you want it. And if a hand goes somewhere you don’t like or I do something you don’t like please tell me right away.” 
“I will,” you assure him, “but I trust you and I know nothing like that will happen.”
He nods at you and steps closer, holding his arms out a bit so you can wrap yours around him. You hug him tight as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you in close to him. You nuzzle your face against his chest and take in several deep breaths through your nose to savor his scent before resting the side of your head on his chest and enjoying the sound of his heart beating and the feeling of his arms holding you, warm and strong and safe. Half of you wants to ask him for his shirt to sleep in but you know you’re not there, that the smell of another man in your bed would be a little too much for you right now. 
Jack nuzzles his nose in your hair, absentmindedly kisses the top of your head occasionally because he can do that now. And he can tell you like it by the way you squeeze him a little tighter when he does. You feel perfect in his arms and holding you like this makes his heart glow in a way it hasn’t in a long, long time. He feels happy and content in a way he wasn’t sure he would ever feel again after his wife.  
You could both stay like this for hours. But Jack knows you’re exhausted. Knows you have to work tomorrow. He relaxes his arms and pulls away just slightly. It has the desired effect, you look up at him wide-eyed with a small smile, able to guess what’s coming next. 
Jack slides his hands up your sides and then brings them to hold your face gently, smiling down at you like you’re the only thing that exists in this moment. He leans down and presses the softest kiss to your forehead, lets it linger as he tries to use the kiss to say thank you and he’s so happy because of you and he can’t believe you’re his girlfriend and he’ll wait as long as you need and he cares about you and you’re so incredibly important to him. He pulls his lips from your forehead eventually, only to bring them back down and give you a couple more kisses there, letting the last one linger just a little before his lips brush against your skin as he murmurs to you. “Goodnight, Sweetheart.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A day later Jack glances at the baby monitor when he hears your son stir a little. 
He shouldn’t be waking up yet, he didn’t go down that long ago and he is normally a very good napper. A good sleeper in general. True to form he just shifts around a little and then is back out. 
It makes Jack smile and laugh to himself as he resumes doing the dishes. Almost everything is in the now-running dishwasher but there are a few things that can’t go in and he’s giving your son’s highchair tray a good scrub. 
It’s Friday and Jack’s on a solid string of off days and so is home with your son. A kid at daycare is sick and honestly, Jack just likes being with your son, and so anymore it’s more common for your son to be with Jack than at daycare when Jack is off. You’re both looking forward to having the weekend together, especially now that you’re together. It’ll be your first weekend as a couple. You have absolutely no plans, but both of you kind of like that. 
As he scrubs Jack tries to formulate a plan to get you to let him take the monitor tonight so that he can get up with your son and you can sleep in tomorrow. He knows you’re going to fight him on it, but he wants to do it for you. He’ll just have to make sure he’s the one who grabs it when you guys get up to go to bed. 
The thought crosses his mind that maybe it’ll be a moot point. Maybe you’ll invite him to sleep in your bed with you. Just to sleep and be close, not for anything else and not even naked. But that thought quickly morphs into kicking himself mentally, asking himself why the actual fuck he’s thinking about that when you aren’t even ready to kiss and have been a couple for less than 24 fucking hours. 
He knows it’s because he wants that closeness with you. Wants to basically hug you all night. He would absolutely never pressure you into doing so, it’s just why he’s thinking about it. Thinking about your warm skin against his, your breathing slow and soft as you sleep curled into him, the little sounds you’d make in your sleep, how peaceful you’d look, and god the sound of your sleepy voice in the morning, spoken more into his chest than anything as you nuzzle against him and try to hide from the light and ask for five more minutes. 
No. Just no, Jack tells himself. He needs to stop. It feels wrong on so many levels to think about you like that, even though it’s not sexual. If only Jack knew the way you were miles away daydreaming in your office about effectively the same thing and about kissing him. 
He turns his thoughts elsewhere. What to make for dinner. He likes cooking for you and your son. He likes watching your face when you take first bites and is borderline addicted to the smiles you give him, the soft hums you give him that are really almost moans when you particularly like something, the praise of ‘this is amazing Jack’ and ‘god you really outdid yourself tonight’ and ‘fuck that’s good’ and ‘you spoil me’ and ‘this is incredible Jack, thank you for cooking’ you give him. 
But what to make? He could do something he’s made before and knows you like. He could try something new. Or you could get takeout. Make it kind of a mini-date at home. He knows your favorite places and dishes by now and he could wait until you get home to order, ask what place you’d prefer. Depending on how long your son naps and what kind of mood he’s in the three of you could potentially go out somewhere. But you did that last night. So maybe him making something is actually better. So he circles back to the question. What to make?  
While he’s letting ideas for dinner percolate in the back of his mind he thinks about how he needs to set up something so that you can meet Robby and Dana. He wants you to meet them of course but they’re also the two best potential babysitters if you end up liking them and feeling like you can trust them. And you’re going to need one if he’s going to ever be able to take you out on a real date. He loves doing stuff as the three of you, yes, but he still wants to date you. Just you. Do something with you that you guys couldn’t do with your son. Focus on each other.
Jack knows it’ll be hard for you to leave your son and he’s not going to force the issue of course, but he hopes that having a nurse or a doctor as a sitter will help allay at least some of your fears. He should probably think of a good date idea before bringing it up though. 
What if he had you cook with him tonight? If you wanted. Almost like a little cooking class date, just at home. You always talk about wanting to become a better cook. That could be fun right? Your son could watch from his highchair or Jack could baby-wear him with a wrap or the carrier. Depending on how late you get home and how early your son goes down for the night and how late you’re okay eating your son might even be asleep by then. Unlikely but not impossible. 
As he finishes the dishes he decides that he’ll go pick something to make and get a list of things to buy at the store. Then once your son is awake from his nap and maybe had a snack they can walk to the store together, maybe drive depending on how much is needed. 
Jack grabs the clean dish towel to dry his hands. And that’s when he realizes it. When he feels it. Or rather doesn’t feel it. His eyes snap to his left hand. 
No wedding ring. 
Jack’s stomach drops, fingers and toes going cold while adrenaline floods his system and shoves him right into fight or flight, breathing and heart rate picking up. He spins back to the sink, praying that he’ll find his ring resting in the sink or on the grate of the one side and that it didn’t slide down into the pipe on the garbage disposal side. Or that he didn’t lose it somewhere else and is just now noticing. How could he have not fucking noticed the second it came off?
A short burst of relief floods him when he finds it sitting against the grate. He’s quick to pick it up and hold it in the palm of his hand, stare down at it. He still can’t believe himself. That he didn’t feel it when it came off. He knows he was in his head and thinking but still. That’s his wedding ring. That’s her. One of a few things he has left of her and it came off and he didn’t feel it. The ring he’s worn every day for how many years now? And he didn’t fucking feel it come off. He’s the worst, his brain tells him as he slips into mentally berating himself. 
And the thing is, Jack has known he needs to take off his ring, especially now that you’re ready and in a relationship and together. He’s been mentally preparing for it and thinking about it. He’s been trying to work his way up to it. He was hoping to do it this weekend at some point. 
He never expected to not have a choice. For it to slip off while doing the dishes. He’s been doing the dishes for the past five years, scrubbing his hands at work for the past five years and nothing. It never came off. And he knows he does have a choice. He knows he could slip it back on right now. 
But instead he just stares at it in his palm. 
He doesn’t know what to do. It needed to come off. But he wanted to take it off. Have it be an intentional thing. Be talking to her in his mind when he did it, reassuring himself and her that it’s not that he doesn’t love her anymore because he does, he always will. And instead it came off and he didn’t notice. What does that tell her? But if he puts it back on how long will it be until he can bring himself to take it off again? Was he ever really going to work up to taking it off or did something like this need to happen? Is this a sign from the universe? Did it happen on purpose?
A tapping sound on the glass of the window behind the sink interrupts Jack’s thoughts. He looks up and there’s no fucking way this is real. A bird is there on the windowsill looking back at him and tilting its head back and forth at him how birds do. It’s not just any bird though. 
It’s a mourning dove. His wife’s favorite. 
The irony of the name was not lost on him the first time he saw one after she died. It was years ago. Five and a bit years ago. At her funeral. One had landed on her casket and Jack had come a little unglued for a minute, ended up squeezing Robby’s forearm so tight it was bruised for a couple of weeks. 
Since then they’ve become a little thing for him. He tells himself it’s silly, but he feels like they’re her in a way. A kind of manifestation of her spirit visiting him. Because he’s only seen them a few times since then and each of those times has been poignant. A couple of times when he visited her grave. A few times on the roof at work when his feet got a little too close to the ledge. Once after he kissed a woman other than her for the first time after her death. And now that he really thinks about it he realizes that one landed on the ground in front of him as he waited to cross the street on his way to work on the day he met you. 
He looks back down at his wedding ring and picks it up with his right hand, holds his left hand out as he thinks about putting it back on. More tapping on the glass and that familiar coo has him focusing back on the dove. It’s beautiful. Just like she was. It has a unique line of black feathers just above one of its eyes. It makes the usual blue ring that circles a mourning dove’s eye pop even more. 
It has to mean something, Jack tells himself. Except that’s crazy, right? It’s just a bird on a windowsill. It doesn’t mean it’s her visiting and trying to tell him something.
Jack stares back at it. It feels like a sign. All of it. His ring slipping off while doing the dishes at your house when it hasn’t before in over five years of doing dishes. The dove appearing. It feels like her telling him that it’s okay. It’s okay to not wear his ring. It’s okay to be with you. It feels like her blessing. 
He closes his right hand around his ring and the dove looks at him for a few more seconds, gives him a couple more coos before it flies off leaving Jack standing there trying to process everything that’s happened in the last five minutes. But then his mind goes blank for a moment and there’s nothing but the feeling of his wedding ring pressing into the palm of his right hand. 
Jack’s turning so his back is against the base cabinets as he slides to the floor, tears blurring his vision as it slams into him and consumes him. The memory of that ring going on his finger. Her face and how excited she was. How beautiful she looked in her white dress with that veil. How she could barely get her vows and the ring exchange out, not from tears but from giggles. How her it was. How she held onto his finger once she slid his ring on. How she didn’t let go until the very end of the ceremony when she could finally hold his face as they kissed for the first time as husband and wife. How she was obsessed with his left hand all night, constantly holding it and running her fingers over his ring. How she kissed it that night in bed. 
Jack doesn’t even realize how hard he’s sobbing as he clutches his right hand and ring to his chest, right over his heart. It all replays for him. How they met. Their first date. Their second date. Their first kiss. Their first time. Leaving for his first deployment while they were together. Coming back and her running and jumping into his arms, refusing to leave them all night. 
Getting to be home and spend time with her. All the things they did together in between deployments. Going abroad. Hiking. Renting a cottage on the beach in Connecticut for a weekend. Making dinner at home together. Fun dates. Their sadness when he found out he was being deployed again. Her tears when she had to hug him goodbye. His promise he’d come back to her.
An IED. Physical pain indescribable until the adrenaline fully hit as he tried to save the others around him. Looking down and realizing his foot was gone. 
Waking up in Germany. Waking up at Walter Reed to her asleep in a chair next to his bed. Surgeries. Moving to a hospital in Pittsburgh. Physical therapy. Depression. Finding his therapist. Her right by his side through it all. A prosthetic. An honorable discharge. Her being more than he could ever deserve as he struggled to adjust.
Medical school. Medical school graduation. The pride in her eyes and how tight she hugged him and her breath against his ear as she whispered how proud she was of him. Residency. 
Him picking out her engagement ring. Planning the proposal. Proposing. Wedding planning during residency. Their whole wedding. Their honeymoon. Their talks of kids and a house in the suburbs. Her saying how she wanted a group of little boys that were all the spitting image of their father. Plans to start trying once he became an attending.
Becoming an attending. Deciding not to actively try but more to just not prevent and see what happened for a bit. The death of her mom hitting her hard and putting the brakes on kids for a bit. Holding her as she cried. Helping her plan a funeral. Things slowly getting better. The death of her dad just a year later understandably obliterating it all. Holding her as she cried again. Helping her plan another funeral. Things slowly getting better again.
Deciding to actively try and track her cycle. An emergency medicine and trauma conference in Vegas. Hugging and kissing her goodbye at the airport. Dreaming of her surprising him with a ‘welcome home daddy’ sign when he got back. 
That phone call from Robby as he laid in his hotel bed reading some materials from one of the presentations. 
Denial. Numbness. Yelling at Robby that this wasn’t even close to a funny joke. The slow realization it was the truth. A drunk driver had taken her from him almost instantly but the driver got to walk away with a couple of bruises and a broken arm.
Robby getting him a ticket on the next plane home. Crying silently in that hotel bed because this couldn’t be real. Finally feeling it and sobbing in an airport bathroom with the sound of slot machines in the background. 
The blur of getting back home and Robby being there. Robby telling him the details of what happened and her injuries after he demanded them through a yell when Robby tried to tell him he didn’t need to know, that it wouldn’t make a difference and would just torture himself. Jack screaming at Robby and blaming him for not saving her when Jack knew based on what Robby told him that she was effectively DOA. That there was no hope of her surviving. That if the paramedics hadn’t happened to recognize her as his wife she almost certainly would’ve been pronounced on the scene and never even brought in. Dana grabbing him in the tightest hug as his screams turned into sobs, choked apologies and thank you for trying-s to Robby and asking what he was supposed to do.
Considering killing himself. Considering killing the driver that hit her and then killing himself. 
Planning her funeral. Seeing her again for the first time in her casket. Feeling a pain so deep and a grief so profound he was sure he would drop dead. Her funeral. Trying to give a eulogy. The dove. Watching her be lowered into the ground. Feeling like the photo of her to the side of her casket was mocking him. Feeling like a piece of shit for feeling that. The celebration of life after. Spending too much time comforting other people as they came up to him and apologized for his loss and talked about her. 
All consuming depression. Not leaving his bed for days. Laying on his side and looking at her pillow and crying because he was looking at her pillow and not her face. Because he’d never look at her face like that again. He’d never have her laying in bed with him again.
Slowly coming out of the depression. Finding a new normal. Deciding to live for her as much as it hurt. Working at the Pitt. Things getting better and life and himself feeling stable. Visiting her grave. The years eventually blurring together as he falls into a routine and goes to work and comes home and listens to the scanner and sleeps and goes back to work again. Some dates and casual flings, brief romances. Nothing serious. They grow fewer and farther between.  
And then Jack hits meeting you and his mind stops. 
The sobs don’t. The way he rocks himself slightly in an attempt to self soothe doesn’t. The choked out apologies to her for everything don’t. The way it feels like he’s right back there, on the day he lost her and the day he saw her in her casket doesn’t. The guilt he suddenly feels for being with you doesn’t. The guilt he feels for his wedding ring falling off and him not noticing while he was doing your dishes, washing your child’s highchair tray doesn’t. The ache that fucking dove and what felt like her blessing put in his heart doesn’t. 
Missing her so badly he can’t breathe doesn’t. But neither does his want and need and affection for you. 
Jack hasn’t cried like this in a good while. Hasn’t felt everything all over again and watched his entire life with her and the aftermath play out in his mind in even longer. And he doesn’t understand, or maybe isn’t letting himself understand, why he feels so sad and so guilty and why he had to replay everything in his mind. Why he’s still fucking sobbing and clutching his ring so hard it’ll take hours if not a full day for the indent it leaves behind to fade. 
Deep down Jack knows it’s a form of processing. He knows his ring coming off is a huge thing for him and he knows that’s okay and that this reaction is okay. He and his therapist have talked at length and repeatedly, especially recently, about his possible reactions to taking it off. But he didn’t really take it off, did he?
His sobs taper off as exhaustion hits and he runs out of tears. But his feelings don’t stop. He’s a storm of emotions, has guilt in every direction possible. He hits that numbness that accompanies exhaustion though and it’s a nice change, not feeling every emotion even as he knows he still has them. His head feels fuzzy and it gets harder to think.
Jack lets his head fall back against the cabinet and closes his eyes. It quickly becomes apparent to him though that if he stays here he’ll fall asleep here. So he forces himself up and to the guest bed, pretty much just flops onto it, head barely hitting a pillow. He looks at his ring for a few seconds before his eyes start to close, curls his hand back around it and brings it back close to heart as he falls into a deep sleep.
He wakes hours later to the sound of crying. It’s not a screaming cry like something is wrong or your son is deeply upset but still. It takes him a minute to come back to fully, to remember what happened, to remember the thing he’s still clutching in his right hand is his wedding ring. Jack rolls onto his back and runs his left hand over his face and through his hair to try and fight off the remnants of sleep. And he feels it of course, the lack of it, no metal ring gliding over his skin. 
As he sits up he opens his hand to look at his ring. He feels so fucking melodramatic now. It’s a ring. She’s been dead for over five years. It should have come off a long time ago. It’s not like he has to get rid of it. He just won’t be wearing it anymore. And yet he can’t let go of all those emotions. 
He goes to grab the baby monitor from the nightstand, vaguely wondering why the volume is turned so low but it’s not there. He’s confused for a minute but then it hits him. He left it by the sink. Your son was so quiet and he was so exhausted when he forced himself off the kitchen floor that he just left it there. So who fucking knows how long your son has been awake and crying. After it processes completely it jolts him awake, has him setting his ring on the nightstand and all but running to your son’s room, berating himself further the entire way. 
Jack cannot believe he did that. Forgot the monitor. Left your son nearly alone effectively. Him crying is bad enough but what if something had happened? What if he had started choking? What if someone had broken in? What if he’s been in there for fucking hours crying so long he’s going to get sick now? What if you’d come home to Jack passed out in bed and your son crying? How could you ever forgive him? Ever trust him again? More guilt surges through him and it’s enough to make him teary again because you trust him with your son and he forgot the monitor and your son is one and won’t understand why nobody came for him. Why Jack didn’t come for him. Why Jack left him in there crying alone. 
“Hi Baby,” Jack calls to your son as he opens the door and flicks the light on. “I’m so sorry Bud. I hope you weren’t in here upset for too long.” Your son starts to calm the second he hears Jack’s voice and sees him, small arms reaching up towards Jack asking to be picked up. The big alligator tears rolling down his face make Jack’s heart ache as he picks him up, chubby hands grabbing at Jack’s shirt while Jack settles him against his chest. 
Jack bounces slightly, cupping the back of your son’s head with the hand not holding him, thumb brushing back and forth soothingly. “I’m so sorry Honey.” He turns his head and kisses your son’s temple a few times. He’s stopped crying, he did pretty much as soon as he was in Jack’s arms, just the occasional sniffles and small hiccupped breaths as he settles back down. “I’ve got you. I’m sorry, I really am, and I’m here now, I’ve got you.” 
He settles into the rocking chair that’s there in the nursery and rocks with your son, presses a few more kisses to his head, breathing in the scent of baby shampoo. It calms him. Jack keeps whispering to your son, that he’s sorry and he’s here and everything’s okay and he’ll never do that again. Jack glances at his watch. It hasn’t actually been that long, really it’s been about the length of time your son usually naps for, so it’s unlikely he was crying for that long, right? Unless today was the day he couldn’t sleep and woke up earlier. There’s no way to know and Jack hates it, can only hope he woke up quickly and as soon as your son started crying. 
Your son rests quietly on his chest, hand playing with Jack’s shirt a bit to keep himself occupied, cooing and babbling to himself a little occasionally. It’s comforting, holding him like this and rocking. Jack knows he’s doing this more to soothe himself than your son who’s pretty much completely unbothered now. 
Jack thinks about what precipitated his passing out without the monitor as he holds your son close, namely his ring and the dove. 
Jack knows it was some kind of sign from her and the universe. The whole thing. He doesn’t care how it sounds. He knows it was her blessing. Her way of telling him she’s happy for him and he should be happy too and not feel guilty. And he wishes his guilt could be erased that easily, by a dove and his ring coming off. But it can’t. And it lingers. And Jack is so glad he has someone who understands and won’t hold it against him. Because he’s sure he won’t be out of this funk by the time you get home.    
Even though he knows you’ll understand and won’t hold it against him he still hates that he’s going to be a bit off with you, especially when you just started your relationship officially yesterday. Yes, you cried into him last night from grief but it feels different. Jack brought up pet names and asked a question specifically about your husband. That made you think of your husband. This is his ring falling off. Something that needed to happen anyway. His reaction could easily make it seem like he’s not ready for this or isn’t fully ready to commit to you and let her go in a way. And he doesn’t want you to think that because it’s not true. He is ready for this, he wants this with you so badly, wants you and he is ready to commit to you. He’s been ready and patiently waiting for you. 
He knows he needs to try and get out of his head. Your son starting to chew on his shirt pulls him out of his thoughts. 
“You hungry, little man? Want a snack? A real one, because my shirt isn’t going to do much for you.” Jack looks down at your son and pulls him away from his chest gently. “No it’s not,” he says in a bit of a baby voice, smiling and shaking his head at your son. “It can’t taste very good either.” 
Your son giggles up at Jack at his voice and the way he shakes his head, hands reach for Jack’s face. Jack playfully takes one of your son’s hands and brings it up, mouths at it and makes fake eating noises just to pull more laughter. Jack releases the hand and brings your son up a little closer, leans into him and kisses at his cheeks dramatically, tickling his face with his stubble and his hand on your son’s tummy. It earns him more pealing laughter and makes him smile widely at your son. He loves making your son laugh, could spend all day making him laugh. He loves making your son happy and hearing your son’s laugh helps him, makes him happier and relax a bit. It’s damn near audible serotonin. 
Your son’s eyes shine and he looks so happy, like Jack’s the best thing in the whole world and Jack doesn’t feel like he deserves it in the moment. But he tries to shove that aside to just focus on your son. Your son seems to love eye contact as much as Jack does so it’s easy to catch his gaze and talk to him softly, earnestly, almost achingly so. “I love you Honey, so so much. I hope you know that.”
And he does. Jack loves your son like he’s Jack’s own. Jack, like you, would walk straight into a burning building and through flames for him, would jump in front of a car for him, anything, without a second thought, he’d just do it. Instinctually. And if, god forbid, something ever happened to your son, Jack would bleed himself dry donating his O- blood to your son if that’s what was needed. 
Your son babbles at him in response, smiling at Jack and laughing while clapping his hands. Jack laughs with him and then sighs contentedly. “Alright, you. Let’s get you changed and then get a snack and text mommy and we’ll figure out the rest after, okay?”
Jack’s quick to get your son changed and out to the kitchen, turning off the monitor where it sits by the sink and shaking his head at himself. He’s nervous about telling you, about your reaction. He’d understand if you didn’t trust him with your son anymore, if it somehow ruined things. He just really hopes you still will trust him and nothing is ruined. He can pretty much assure you he’ll never do it again.
Once he has your son squared away with a snack and some water in his highchair Jack sits at the table next to him and texts you. Not telling you what happened never even crossed his mind. He debates calling you instead but he doesn’t want to interrupt your workday more than he has to.  
J - I’m so so sorry. I fell asleep and accidentally left the monitor in the other room. I woke up to him crying and I have no idea how long he was crying for. He calmed as soon as I picked him up and is okay now. Having a snack and some water. But I totally get if you don’t trust me with him anymore and don’t want me watching him by myself anymore. I’m so sorry
Jack stares at his phone waiting for your reply. He knows you’re at work and busy and it might be a bit before you even see that he texted you let alone have the time to read his message and reply. And he knows you might not even want to reply. He’s just praying that you give him something so he knows that you know what happened. 
You do. You don’t even take that long all things considered, it’s only a minute or so before those three dots appear. 
You - Hey, it’s okay, you have nothing to apologize for. I’ve done the same thing more than once, I promise
You - All that matters is he’s okay. Not surprised he calmed down as soon as you picked him up, he’s so enamored with you! 
You - And of course I still trust you with him. I’ve seen you with him and how aware of him you are and how in tune, so if I had to bet, I’d say he wasn’t crying long at all before it woke you up. And even if he had been crying for a while, it’s okay. I’d still trust you. Like I said, I’ve done it before more than once. It’s just one of those things that happens. Especially if you need a nap just as bad as he does!
Jack lets out a sigh of relief reading your texts. His head is still a fucking mess from everything and he hasn’t forgiven himself for this, he’s just so good at compartmentalizing it’s all in a box on a shelf to deal with later. 
J - Okay. I really am sorry though and I can pretty much guarantee you it won’t happen again
You reply quickly. 
You - It’s really okay, try not to feel bad about it. I know it’s not that easy but just know that I’m not upset or anything 
A few seconds later before Jack can respond there’s another message from you. 
You - You otherwise okay? 
Of course you’d pick up on it and know. Of course you’d worry about him. It makes Jack feel so good to know there’s someone out there who cares about him that much, who he’s that important to in a non-platonic sense. But at the same time part of him hates that he didn’t hide it better, that he’s worrying you and burdening you with himself. 
J - Yeah, just been a day kind of
J - Mentally. Nothing to do with him
He glances up at your son as he waits to see if you reply. “Good stuff?” he laughs, your son having devoured the cheerios Jack gave him. “Want some more?” Your son giggles and claps a bit as Jack pours some more out for him. “You’re the best, you know that Bud?”
You - I’m sorry, Jack. We can talk tonight if you want but don’t have to of course. Just know I’m here for you for whatever. I think I’ll probably be able to leave a little early today too
Jack bites his lip. He doesn’t know if he wants to talk about it, or how much he wants to talk about it. 
J - I know. And okay but don’t rush home on my account 
He sets his phone off to the side and turns his focus back to your son, scooting a bit closer to him. “Oh, thank you,” Jack chuckles when your son offers him a cheerio in his tiny pincer grasp and Jack lets him feed it to him, much to your son’s delight. He does it a few more times and Jack takes every cheerio offered until the two of them have eaten them all. 
Jack takes your son to the living room, sets him down on the floor and gets down to play with him. If you end up being able to leave work a bit early it really won’t be too long before you’re home. 
Playing with your son is a good distraction until it’s not and the walls of the box he’d put everything in start to crumble and all his feelings and guilt from earlier flood his mind. Jack’s at least able to focus on both your son and those feelings at once, not outwardly showing any distress or being off with your son or suddenly less interactive. The feelings just eat away at him inside. The guilt. 
Jack’s not even that aware of time passing until he hears your key in the door. “Hi!” you call out as you walk in and set your stuff down, kick out of your shoes. You’re glad to be home and done with the week and so excited to have a weekend with Jack. You walk into your living room and smile at the sight of Jack and your son on the floor together playing. 
“Hey,” Jack calls back. He lowers his voice as you walk into the room. “Who is that?” he asks your son, “Mommy home?” Your son claps and gets excited, starts to crawl over to you but doesn’t get super far. “How was your day?” 
“Oh you know,” you sigh. “Work.” Jack laughs softly. “How was your guys’ day?” You walk over to pick up your son. He’s still close to Jack and without even being fully conscious of it you run a hand through Jack’s hair affectionately before grabbing your son, picking him up and peppering his face with kisses, cooing at him softly that you missed him and you love him and did he have a good day with Jack.
Jack clears his throat as he stands up and walks over to sit on the couch. “Oh you know,” he repeats your words with a similar sigh, only his has an edge to it that concerns you. “You know.” 
You turn to really look at Jack as he sits on the couch and he hates the way your face drops when you see him. You can tell he cried at some point today and you’re guessing it happened before he fell asleep without the monitor. Your brows furrow together, eyes widening slightly in concern. Jack shakes his head and sighs, ready to apologize for ruining your mood and Friday night. But you speak first. 
“Jack?” You walk over and sit on the couch with your son on your lap near him, but leave a cushion between you in case he wants space. You’re worried about him, quite a lot. You’ve never seen him look this sad and almost lost. “What’s wrong honey?” 
Jack isn’t sure how to even begin to answer because it feels so ridiculous. You’ve had your rings off for a long time. He bets you weren’t like this when you took them off. And even if you were it was so close to when he died and you were pregnant. 
Jack doesn’t know what to say so he doesn’t say anything and just holds up his left hand. Your eyes slowly leave his and move to his hand. It doesn’t take you long to notice. And Jack can see it on your face the second you realize. Your eyes go back to his. 
“You took your wedding ring off.”
Jack brings his hand down and sighs, shaking his head. “I didn’t really take it off so much as it fell off while I was doing the dishes.” He looks down at his hand. “It’s on my nightstand, it didn’t get lost in the pipes or anything. I just…” He shrugs. He wants to look back up at you but he can’t bring himself to for some reason. “I didn’t expect it. I’ve done the dishes for over five years, scrubbed my hands at work and it never came off. But today it did. And the worst part is I didn’t even notice when it did. I didn’t realize it until I was drying my hands.”
You’re quiet as you try to think of what to say, what you would want to hear if you were in Jack’s position. And you’re trying to shove the massive guilt that’s hit you aside because this isn’t about you. This is about Jack. But if he hadn’t been doing your and your son’s dishes his ring wouldn’t have come off. It feels like it’s your fault somehow. 
“I… Jack I’m so sorry you didn’t get to do it on your own terms.” You want to move closer to him, rest your hand on him and squeeze reassuringly or hold his hand. But you’re not sure if he’d want that. “You can put it back on, Jack. If you need to or want to. That’s okay.”
Jack had a feeling you’d say that. And he can see in the way you shift a little that you want to be closer to him but aren’t sure if he’d want that. He’s not really sure either now that you’re talking about what happened and it’s all that’s in his mind again. “No.” He shakes his head. “No, it needed to come off. My therapist and I have talked about it. A lot,” he laughs dryly. He forces himself to look at you. “Especially recently, because it’s not fair to you. For us to be together and me to be wearing her ring-”
You’re shaking your head as he speaks and you have to interrupt him. “It’s not unfair to me Jack. It’s just not about fairness in general. I get it, you know I do.” And you do. But you can’t lie to yourself and say it wouldn’t be a little hard to see him put it back on, date him while he wears her ring. You’d never say that though and you imagine you don’t really have to. That Jack just knows because he can put himself in the same position. “If you’re not ready to have it off Jack, that’s okay. I promise.” And you do promise, because even if he did put it back on you would be okay with it even if it was a little hard. 
“I am. It’s been over five years. It needed to come off, truly. It was time.” You can see his eyes get a little glassy and it makes your heart ache for him. You know he must have sobbed about it and you hate that he was alone. Because you know what it’s like. You know what it’s like to suddenly no longer have your wedding ring on and be alone when it happens. You have no idea if he’d have wanted you around when he did it but at least he could have had the option. “I was thinking about it anyway. I was going to try to do it this weekend.” Jack bites his trembling lip and looks down for a moment before looking back up at you, the tears now visible in his eyes. “I just thought I’d get to do it. That it would be this intentional thing and I could talk to her while I did it, you know?”
You let out a shuddery breath and feel tears prick the back of your eyes. “Yeah,” you whisper, “I know. And I’m so sorry you didn’t get that Jack.”
Jack takes a breath and shrugs at you, all the emotion disappearing from his face for a second leaving him stone faced. “Stop apologizing. You have nothing to apologize for.” Jack’s eyes fall down to your son as he starts to babble and wiggle against you more before Jack can see your slight flinch at his words. His tone was sharper than he meant or realized. Colder. He almost sounded annoyed. 
You swallow hard. Both of you knew there would be some really difficult moments during your relationship. Days where the grief was all-consuming and the guilt eating you alive. You just didn’t expect one quite this early on while things are still so new. It’s okay that it is one, just unexpected. “Okay, I’m-” You stop yourself before you apologize again and Jack knows it, looks up at you and gives you the smallest amused smile. It falls quickly though when he sees how upset you are. He hates that he’s the cause. “I, you, um,” you let out a breath, “you’re of course welcome to stay here, always Jack, I hope you know that. And I’m here for you and this if that’s what you need. If you want to talk about, or be close or whatever it is that would help you. I don’t want it to sound like I want you to leave. Of course I’d like you to be here but more than that I want whatever you need and is best for you. I just, it’s also okay if you need to go home, Jack. Be alone and have some time to yourself. Time with her. Go visit her, maybe, if you think that would help.”
You look down at your son while you give Jack time to think, shift him on your lap a little and bounce him on your legs, earning you some squealing laughter. 
“Maybe,” Jack finally says. “I don’t know.” He’s not sure what would be better. The thought of being home and alone with his thoughts sounds awful. But maybe some of the guilt would pass if he wasn’t here with you as terrible as he knows that sounds and is. He doesn’t know. His brain just doesn’t know. He’s paralyzed in a way he hasn’t been in a long time. 
“That’s okay, it’s okay to not know.” You glance around the room as you keep bouncing your knees for your son. You’re trying to think of anything that might help him. Emotionally or just help him figure out what he wants and needs. “He and I can go into my room and give you some space, or go take a walk if that would help?”
Jack shakes his head, frowning at the ideas. “No. This is your house. I’m not confining you to a room in your own house or making you leave.”
“You’re not making me do anything Jack, I’m offering.”
“No.” He’s firm in his answer. “Maybe,” he swallows hard, “maybe I should go for a walk.” He’s not sure if being alone with his thoughts is a good idea but maybe a walk would at least clear his mind a bit. But he also feels bad about it, like he’s just leaving you as soon as he’s struggling with grief. He knows it’s a little more than just normal struggling, but still. He doesn’t want to be that guy, doesn’t want you to feel like you don’t help or he doesn’t want your comfort. 
You’re quiet for a moment, looking down at your son and pulling him up when he wants to stand and bounce on your legs. He’s getting close to walking. You’re not upset that Jack wants to leave and needs space, you’re not sad or hurt. It’s not that. You’re worried because you know how hard it is. How one thing in particular can seem like the best answer.
“Jack,” you whisper, force yourself to look at him so he understands your question. “Are you going to come back?” He nods. Jack understands what your question means. Is he suicidal. He hadn’t even thought about it really. It hadn’t crossed his mind as something to do now, largely, he thinks, because he has you and your son. But Jack hates the fact that he made you worry like that. About losing someone else. “Because you really need to come back, Jack.” You’re still whispering. “Even if it’s not to me.” 
Somehow Jack’s heart breaks a little more. “Hey,” he says softly, tilting his head at you. He reaches out and rests a hand just above your knee. “I didn’t even think about that. I’m going to come back, Sweetheart. To you.” He squeezes your thigh as he speaks, hoping his touch and the honesty he’s trying to project through his eyes will reassure you. “I think I should just try a walk and see if it clears my head or helps me decide what I want to do.”
You nod at him. “Okay. I hope it’ll help.” Jack nods at you and you let out a small breath as he gets up and makes his way to the front door. “Just, um, take your phone? Please. And be safe.” 
Jack smiles at you, lets out the softest laugh through his nose. “I’ve got it, yeah. And I will be.” He turns and rests a hand on the door handle but then turns back to you. “I don’t want you to think this means I’m not ready, or that I can’t be in a relationship with you. Because it doesn’t. I just didn’t expect it and-”
“Hey,” you cut him off gently, “I think a really big and meaningful thing on the grieving the loss of a spouse, I don’t know, checklist, for lack of a better word, happened unexpectedly today and so you’re having a really bad grief day. That’s okay. Those days will happen for both of us. And if on your walk you realize you aren’t ready or can’t be in a relationship with me that’s okay too.”
“I won’t.” He shakes his head. “Because even with all these thoughts and feelings and whatever else right now I feel ready and I want to be in a relationship with you. I just need to try and work it out in my head.” Jack takes in a shuddery breath. He feels like such an asshole for doing this to you. “I’m sorry for dumping all of this and then running.”
“You have nothing to apologize for, Jack. I don’t feel like you’re dumping anything. Or like you’re running.” You give him a small smile. “You’re taking a walk to clear your head. That’s healthy.”
“I’ll be back tonight. Even if I decide I need to spend some time at my place, okay?”
You nod at him and he turns back and opens the door, stepping out and locking it behind him so you don’t have to get up. You straighten out on the couch so that you’re facing the TV, holding your son close just like Jack did earlier in the day but letting him stay standing on your legs. 
You hate yourself for it but you start crying. Of course you start crying. You feel like you’re totally usurping Jack’s grief and feelings or using them and him somehow but you can’t stop the tears even as your son bounces on you and giggles. They’re not even for yourself, not really. They’re for Jack and how fucking badly you know he’s hurting right now, how much he’s missing her, how guilty in every way he’s feeling, how conflicted he is. Because you’ve been there since you met him. More than once. And you understand. You know your situations aren’t identical and you’d never say you understand perfectly or completely know what he’s going through but on a fairly deep level you understand. You know the emotions and how easily they can swallow you. You cry because you care so much about Jack and hate that he’s hurting and that you can’t do anything to make it better. 
Jack has no idea where he’s walking to. He considered your suggestion for a moment, going to see her. He knows that’s a kind of fucked up luxury he has. He can just go and visit her whenever he wants. You can’t go visit your husband easily like that. He’s in Arlington, a four hour drive away. And he knows you love that and are glad he’s honored there but he’s sure it hurts at times. It’s actually one piece of this he really can’t imagine. He can’t imagine not being able to go see her whenever he wanted.
But Jack decides visiting her right now doesn’t quite feel right. So he just walks. And walks. And walks. It all runs through his head again. Every emotion and feeling and scrap of guilt. He’s not even really fully aware of the conversation he’s having with himself in his head, of how he’s trying to process. He just doesn’t fight anything and lets it happen.
He’s so completely in his head and on auto-pilot that Jack doesn’t even know where he is or how he got here when he stops walking as he hits the entrance to a park. It kind of freaks him out how he doesn’t remember walking here but he just rolls with it, walks into the park and along the trail until he spots a bench a little off the path near some bushes. 
More than anything at this point, Jack finds himself struggling with the guilt. He feels guilty for doing this to you. For dropping this big emotional thing on you that clearly upset you for him and just leaving. For making you wonder if he was going to come back or if you’d never see him again and be stuck with another loss and cleaning out his clothes and belongings that are at your place just like you had to with your husband’s. For scaring you like that. For forgetting the monitor and letting your son cry. 
He knows that in some sense this guilt will be easier to let go. That it really will fade almost completely with time because he can spend time with you. He can apologize and reassure you. You guys can make new happy and fun memories, smile and laugh together.
Jack knows that’s not true for the rest of his guilt. His guilt for not noticing his ring coming off. For not putting it back on. For letting that piece of her go. His guilt for moving on with you even when he knows that’s what she would want, is what he would want for her. And he thought about that each time he was deployed and made her a video just in case he didn’t come back. He always told her. Grieve and then find someone else to share your life with and be happy with. He wanted that for her. But now that he’s here having to be the one to do it, it feels like some form of betrayal in a way. How could he possibly ever get over her? Jack knows it’s not really about getting over. Because he couldn’t really, in the same way you could never truly get over your husband. It’s not a breakup. Nobody chose to end the relationship. It was ripped away. 
But he knows it’s not betrayal. He knows that being with you, falling in love with you, doesn’t mean he doesn’t love her anymore, doesn’t diminish how much he loves her. Doesn’t make her some figure in his past that he’ll slowly come to think of less and less until he forgets her. He could never forget her and a part of him will always love her. He doesn’t think he could go a single day without thinking of her even if only for a second. And Jack knows that you would never let him. That if the day came where he started losing his memory that you’d be right by his side with pictures of the two of you and your family together but also with pictures of her and her and him together, tell him all the stories he’s told you about her. 
He knows it’s not betrayal and this is what she would want but it’s so fucking hard at times. He wishes he could just call her. Or that she had left a video telling him to grieve and find someone else. Maybe hearing it directly from her would help. But he can’t and she didn’t. All he has is a dove on your windowsill and while it feels so strongly like a sign and her blessing it’s hard to hold onto that belief at times. 
Jack lets out a long breath and closes his eyes, tips his head back and feels what’s left of the heat from the sun and the slight breeze across his face. He should head back soon so he doesn’t get back after dark. Or at least text you that he’s okay and still walking if it does get dark. But he still doesn’t know what to do. Doesn’t know what he needs. Whether to go back to his house for the night or even the weekend. 
He thinks he’s having an auditory hallucination when he first hears it. That coo of a dove. Jack opens his eyes slowly and brings his head back down. And sure enough there on the opposite end of the bench is a mourning dove. He gives a short laugh of disbelief. So he’s having a visual hallucination too, great. Because this can’t be real. And it especially can’t be real when the dove moves and Jack recognizes it as the same one that was on the windowsill. That line of black feathers just above one of its eyes too unique to be a different bird. 
But then a kid who must be four or five yells “Look mommy! A bird!” as they point to the bench. The kid’s mom looks over and nods, says something Jack can’t hear to her daughter. 
Jack tells himself to be relieved that he’s not hallucinating. But it just feels like too much, in every sense. It’s too perfect to be true and mean anything. But it’s also way too coincidental and on point to mean nothing. Right? 
The dove gives a soft coo and then tilts its head to one side as it looks at Jack, eyes almost squinting. He swears it’s a really? look that he’s given Robby a thousand times. Like really the dove had to come find him again to give him the same message. So maybe he is hallucinating. Might as well go full send then. “I’m not convinced that you’re not some very realistic fucking animatronic dove Robby’s controlling off in some fucking bush to try and help me,” Jack huffs and rolls his eyes, doesn’t believe a word of what he’s saying but still.
He can’t believe he’s actually fucking talking to the dove now. Joking with it. He has to laugh at himself and the dove coos a few times as he does, ruffling its feathers again. Jack rubs his face with his hands and shakes his head before looking back at the dove. He bites his lip when he feels that pressure behind his eyes. He won’t cry. Not with this dove. That’s the line. That has to be the fucking line. 
Jack and the dove just look at each other for a few minutes. Maybe it’s true, likely it’s Jack forcing himself to believe it, but it feels like sitting in her presence. He presses his lips in a line as they tremble slightly. “Yeah?” It’s a loaded question. 
He can’t believe he actually just asked that out loud. To the dove. The random bird in a park on a bench. Like it really means something. Like it’s actually her. But Jack wants to believe it is. He wants that comfort. Wants that sign. And he tells himself that’s okay. That it’s human. That humans have been looking for and seeing signs in all sorts of things forever. Jack needs to believe in this. And so he gives himself this and lets himself believe.
The dove coos back at him once. Jack smiles and shakes his head. After a few more coos at Jack the dove flies off. He watches it fly off, laughing as a few tears leak out of his eyes. He brings his head back down and rests his elbows on his knees, holds his face in his hand for a second and gives himself a single muffled sob through his laughter. Because the dove isn’t here now. He’s not crying with the dove. 
He wants to tell you. Jack needs to tell you. And maybe you’ll think he’s totally off the fucking rocker and break it off and that’ll be the real sign. He has a feeling you won’t though. 
Jack wipes his eyes and sniffles and then stands up. He walked on auto-pilot for so long that he actually has to use his phone to get directions to point him in the direction of your place. He feels much better, as kind of crazy as that fact makes him feel. He’ll stay at yours tonight. The whole weekend if you’ll let him. 
Eventually you force yourself to get up. The tears have at least lessened if not stopped completely. You take your son into your room with you and set him on the floor for a second while you change quickly. You don’t know what to do with yourself. Taking a walk with your son crosses your mind but you don’t want to accidentally run into Jack and have him feel like you’re stalking him or can’t give him space. You’re just restless. 
You could go to the park a few blocks up. You doubt Jack is going to go there if he’s taking a walk, it’s not a huge park you can really walk through. But still. You shouldn’t risk it. You sigh and pick your son up, head back to the living room and get down on the floor to play with him like Jack was. You feel like a terrible mother for not giving your son your full attention since you’ve been home so you do your best to go completely into mom mode and forget about everything but your son. 
Two or so hours pass and Jack still isn’t back. You head to the kitchen and put your son in his highchair, get some dinner ready for him. You consider making something for yourself and maybe Jack but you’re not even remotely hungry. You’re vaguely nauseous if anything. But at least the tears have truly stopped and you put in some eyedrops so your eyes hopefully won’t completely give you away when you see Jack again. You don’t want him to feel like you’re taking his trauma and struggle for yourself. 
You’re helping your son eat dinner when you hear the lock turn over and your front door open. It makes your heart rate pick up quite noticeably. You have no idea if the walk will have helped at all, if he’s going to just run in to tell you he’s leaving for tonight or the weekend or forever. Because you can’t help but catastrophize. You don’t even know whether to call out a greeting. But when he doesn’t offer one as he locks the door behind him you figure you shouldn’t either. 
“Hey,” Jack greets you as he walks into the kitchen, kissing the top of your head as he walks by before doing the same to your son who squeals in excitement at seeing Jack. He sounds much better. Happier.
You freeze for a second. It’s not what you expected so it catches you a little off guard. “Hey,” you reply, tracking Jack as he sits down at the table across from you, baby at the end in the middle. He looks lighter. He’s been crying at least a little but he looks lighter and happier and like he found some answers and worked things out and is almost at peace. It gives you whiplash for a few seconds before Jack’s eyes leave your son and turn back to you, that intense gaze of his helping to ground you. He flashes you one of those smiles of his that gives you butterflies. “The walk helped I take it?”
“It did,” he nods at you, still smiling. “Well, actually, it wasn’t really the walk, it was a bird.”
You raise your eyebrows and smile back at him, confusion ghosting your features. “A bird?”
“A bird,” he confirms. “The whole thing is going to sound insane, and like I said yesterday, if you want to kick me out forever at the end I’ll get it. And I’m sorry.” Jack softens a little. “I know you’re going to say don’t be, but I am.”
“And like I said yesterday I very much doubt that’s how I’ll react.” You give him a small smile and turn to help your son finish his dinner. “And you’re right, I’m going to say don’t be sorry because you have nothing to be sorry for. You didn’t do anything to be sorry for.” You glance over at him with a knowing smile. 
“Still am,” he teases and you roll your eyes affectionately. “What do you want to order for dinner?”
You laugh a little. “How do you know I didn’t make myself something and eat already?” 
Jack doesn’t miss a beat. “You never eat when you’re stressed or worried or anxious.” He shrugs. “It worries me sometimes.”
“I-” you start, but have to stop. He’s right. You never eat when you’re stressed. The fact that he cares about you enough to have noticed and have it worry him isn’t missed by your brain and it makes you feel warm all over.
“You know I’m right.” Jack smirks at you. 
“Doesn’t mean I have to like it,” you grumble at him, but have to smile at the sound of his soft laugh. You help your son finish the last bite of his dinner and shrug at Jack. “I don’t know. Whatever you want. Nothing sounds particularly good or bad.” You stand up and grab a pack of baby wipes, start using one to clean your son’s face. 
“I’ve got it, you grab him,” Jack murmurs once your son is clean. 
“No, you take him. You already washed all of this once today. I’ve got it this time.” You turn your attention to your son. “And you want to go see Jack, don’t you Baby?” Your son laughs, holds his arms up and makes grabby hands at both of you really, looking between you and Jack, but eventually settling on Jack. “You really going to tell that face no?” You click your tongue at Jack. 
“I could never,” Jack hums as he picks your son up. “And he knows it.” He bounces your son in his arms a little, smiling at him and making faces. He glances over at you as he does. “Nauseous?” 
You pause before setting the tray in the sink and starting to wash it. You don’t know why you’re surprised. The man clearly knows you and he’s a doctor. There’s probably some outward physical symptoms you were displaying. “A little,” you simper at him, “but it’s passing.” 
“Good.” Jack sits back down with your son and orders something quickly, the lightest of your favorite dishes. “Food’ll be here in twenty.” 
“You didn’t have to do that Jack.” You shoot him a look from the sink. 
“Wanted to.” You shake your head at him with a little smile and bite of your lip as Jack adjusts your son to bounce on him. “Honestly, I had this whole little cooking lesson date at home idea where he and I were going to go pick up ingredients and then when you got home we’d cook and I’d show you things and wear him or he’d chill in his highchair and then… my ring fell off and kind of derailed everything.” The end of the sentence is much quieter than the beginning. 
You look at Jack as you finish drying the tray and set it on the counter. He’s still focused on your son. As much as he’s feeling better he clearly still has some stuff lingering under the surface. “That’s a very sweet idea. I’m sure we can do it someday soon.”
“Yeah.” He nods and glances at you, gives you an uncharacteristically shy smile. “Anyway, I figure once the food is here and we’ve eaten and put him down for the night we could talk? And I could tell you about the bird. A dove, specifically.” 
“I’d like that.” You nod at him and drape the dish towel back over the oven handle and go back and sit across from your boys at the table. “A mourning dove?”
“Mhmm.” Jack confirms, making a face at your son and then tickling his tummy. They’re common enough that he’s not surprised you guessed it.
“Your wife’s favorite,” you say softly, giving Jack an understanding smile when he looks up at you. 
Jack blinks at you for a solid thirty seconds. It strikes him that you said it. As in you didn’t ask it. You said it because you know it’s true. You know they’re her favorite. He must have talked about it once and you remembered. You remembered. “Yeah.” Jack nods, a little dazed. 
Your smile widens a little. “You’re not the only one who notices and remembers things Sweetheart,” you tease him lightly. 
Jack huffs a laugh and rolls his eyes playfully, but his smile makes clear how he really feels. How touched he is. The two of you chat for a bit until the food arrives. Once it does you eat at the table together, your son happy to hang out in his highchair next to you both. You get him down for the night while Jack clears the table and wipes it down. And then you meet him on the couch. 
You pause for a second, unsure of where you should sit. As of late you and Jack have been sitting side by side on the couch and so normally you would just take the seat next to him and not think about it. But you’re not sure where he’s at tonight, if he wants you that close. 
He pats the seat next to him. “Here, please. If you want. It’s okay if you don’t.” 
“No, I do,” you nod as you walk over and sit next to him, put the monitor on the coffee table, “I just wasn’t sure where you were with it tonight.” 
“I appreciate you thinking about it, but I’d like you close. I like having you close.” 
“I, I like having you close too,” you admit with a shy smile and slightly lowered head. You both shift on the couch so that you’re slightly angled and can see each other.
 “I’m going to preface this all by saying I know how crazy and ridiculous some of this is going to sound. But I just… want to believe it. Need to. So I’m trying to let myself. And maybe that’s not the healthiest way to deal with everything, but I can try and figure that out with my therapist later.” You nod and give him an encouraging smile. 
And so Jack begins. He starts with what happened with his ring, finding it. He spells out all of the emotions and guilt and feelings he’s had throughout the day. There are tears from him, moments where you pull him close and let him cry into your neck and chest while you rub his back and kiss his curls. You reassure him at the right times, express your understanding of his feelings and especially of a lot of the guilt. 
Then he finally moves to the dove. He tells you about both instances, at the windowsill and the park and you listen, nod at times and smile. You don’t look at him like he’s crazy or like you’re just putting up with this until he stops talking and you can free yourself. You squeeze his hand and laugh with him when he does. 
Jack shrugs at the end. Even though your reaction has been nothing but positive as you listened he’s still worried about what you’ll have to say. Still feels exceptionally vulnerable. “So, yeah. That’s the story of the bird I guess,” he laughs weakly, clearly somewhat embarrassed. He squeezes your hand that he’s holding to tell you he’s ready to hear what you have to say.
“Oh Jack,” you sigh, squeezing his hand back. His heart races a little faster. He’s not sure what to make of your sigh. “I don’t think there’s any part of that story, of anything you just told me, that’s crazy or ridiculous or insane.” 
Jack lets out a long breath. “Thank you,” he whispers. 
“Nothing to thank me for Sweetheart, I’m being honest with you. That’s what I think.”
“No I know, but…” Jack trails off, not really sure where he wanted to take that sentence. 
“I know.” You nod at him for a second. Now that you have that out there and Jack has relaxed you take a minute to gather your thoughts. Jack can tell it’s what you’re doing by the look in your eye as you keep your eyes fixed on a spot on the wall. Once you have a rough idea of what you want to say you look back at him. “I think it’s like you said Jack. Humans search for meaning and signs in everything. It’s normal. Especially in this context. And I think that if that wasn’t a sign from her then nobody in history has ever truly received a sign from anybody or anything because what happened with that dove was, I don’t even know how to describe it. Intense? Overly coincidental? I guess I don’t know how anyone could have that happen and think it meant nothing and was just two random things that happened at a very specific time with no significance.”
“Okay, good. I’m glad it wasn’t just me.” Jack lets out a bit of a groaned laugh and runs a hand through his hair. 
“Even if it was Jack, who the fuck cares? The only thing that matters is what it meant to you. How it made you feel. What you believe it is. Everyone else’s and the world’s opinions on it are irrelevant. Even mine. To be clear I’m with you on this, I promise. I’m just saying. Nobody but you will ever truly understand what all of that felt like so who is anyone to judge or tell you that your interpretation is wrong?” You shrug at him like it’s so simple. 
And in a way Jack guesses that it is. Because you’re right. Nobody else could ever truly understand. Not even you. “Yeah. I guess I was busy judging myself on behalf of the world about it and never really thought about it like that.” He tilts his head at you. “I’m really glad you don’t think I’m weird for it and that you understand. And uh,” he looks down and grows quieter, almost nervous, “we’re okay, right?” You know he’s asking if you still consider the two of you to be together, a couple.
You smile at him, lean in and press a lingering kiss to his forehead. “We’re more than okay, Jack,” you whisper against his skin, press another quick kiss there and pull back. 
“Good,” he breathes. You look at each other in a comfortable silence for a minute. “Have you,” Jack pauses and debates whether to finish his question. “Have you ever had something like that happen to you? You don’t have to answer either. I just wondered.” 
You raise your eyebrows. “Oh, well, I, um, yes. But not quite in the same way? I don’t know. He…” You look down at your lap and laugh softly to yourself before looking back up at Jack. “My husband, he used to give me daisies. All the time, for everything. Every big thing, anniversaries, birthdays, sometimes just because. Before we started dating I must have mentioned it once and so he actually showed up to our first date with a little bouquet of them, it was very sweet. I actually pressed one of them and have it still. Anyway, after I gave birth, when I was in the hospital I had ended up telling the nurses about him and what happened, and my doctor already knew. They felt bad, obviously, and so because I didn’t really have anyone to celebrate with they all went in on getting me some nice flowers.” You let out a bit of a shuddery breath, eyes a little glassy as you think back on the memory.
“It was a bouquet of daisies,” Jack murmurs. 
You smile at him and nod. “It was a bouquet of daisies,” you confirm. “And I asked the nurse who brought them in if there was a reason for daisies and she said when she went to buy them they just kind of called to her.” You shrug. “So, it’s not quite the same, but in the moment and even now I like to believe that he was somehow behind it and was there with us.”
As much as the memory warms Jack’s heart, parts of it break it too. He still hates the thought of you not having anyone, not having any support during labor and birth and after. Hates how your husband’s death was still pretty fresh for you. He can’t even begin to imagine. “I think he was,” Jack nods, reaching out and taking your hand, hoping it gives you some comfort and doesn’t feel weird. “Both behind it and there with you.”
“Thank you.” You nod at him. “Now whenever I see them I think of him, tell myself he’s saying hi.”
Jack nods and gives you a gentle smile. “He is.” 
After a few seconds you and Jack both shift at the same time, lean in and hug each other. “Thank you for trusting me with all of that. The story and your feelings. I’m really glad she helped you find some peace. I would be regardless of what it was about.”
“Thank you for listening and trusting me with the daisies.” He turns his head and presses a kiss to your temple. 
Neither of you have to say anything else. You both get it, understand exactly what it meant to the other and for the two of you as a couple. You settle against Jack a bit once you break the hug.  
The mood is still a little somber. You guess that’s how you would describe it. You tilt your head and pull it back a little, give Jack a small smirk and try to help pick the mood up. You hope it doesn’t backfire. “You want me to ask Robby the first time I meet him if he has a very realistic animatronic mourning dove that he follows you around with?” 
“Please!” Jack snorts a laugh, “I would love to see his coughed out ‘excuse me?’ and his panicked and concerned eyes looking at me for a second before he gives you the actual fucking nicest, ‘no, I can’t say that I do,’ while internally trying to figure out how he’s going to casually pull me aside nicely ask me ‘what the fuck?’”
You giggle with him as Jack laughs at the thought. “You know I could never, right? I’m way too shy and socially awkward around people I don’t know to do that.”
Jack laughs as he nods. He lets his laughter trail off and grows a touch more serious, the smile he’s giving you dripping with the adoration and affection and gratefulness he has for you. “I do know that, yes, it’s something I lo-” Jack catches himself, “really like about you.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jack is right. Kind of. He doesn’t have to tell Dana and Robby. But they don’t even have to ask to know. Just looking at him is enough. 
“Did Dr. Abbot get divorced?” Trinity poses the question to the group at the hub. 
Nobody answers for a moment. Half the people there don’t know and the other half don’t really want to spread Jack’s business. 
Robby can feel the eyes of the half of the group that doesn’t know on him. He slowly raises his head and shoots them all a don’t gossip look. “No.” He looks at her a little longer. “What prompted that question?” 
Trinity shrugs. “He just used to wear a wedding ring and isn’t now.” 
The iPad in Robby’s hands drops the few inches to the counter as he spins to look at Jack, who apparently just arrived and is speaking with Dana. 
“You have a good weekend?” Dana asks as she looks at Jack over her glasses with a knowing smile. 
“I did, thank you Dana,” he says a little saccharinely. “Did you? Or did you have to work?”
“No I had it off. It was fine. Didn’t do much.” She tries to keep it casual but Jack can see right through it and it almost makes him laugh as he sets his phone on the counter and grabs a few things out of his backpack and puts them in his pockets. “What about you? Do anything fun?” 
You text him and when it wakes his phone Dana’s fast enough to glance down and see his new wallpaper. A photo of the three of you. She keeps her head down as she smiles to herself. 
“I did yeah.” Jack doesn’t offer anything more much to her apparent chagrin. She clocks his ringless left hand when he picks up his phone, her eyes widening and mouth dropping open for a second before she closes it and looks back up at him. Jack looks at her. He knows she knows. “I’m going to put my stuff away now.” 
“Yeah, okay.” She nods at him, watching him walk towards the lockers. Once he’s out of sight she spins. “Robby!” She flicks her head to beckon him and walks away from the hub in the middle of the floor. 
“He’s not wearing his ring.” Robby whispers. 
“I know. And his phone’s wallpaper is a picture of the three of them.” Dana nudges his arm as she says it. 
“Really?”
“Mhmm. Something must have happened.” Dana pauses and glances over Robby’s shoulder to see if Jack is walking back to the floor yet. “He said he had a good weekend and did something fun but he didn’t give any other details.” 
“He’s gonna have to figure out something to say to everyone because Santos already asked if he got divorced because he’s not wearing his ring.” Robby gives Dana a look. They both know Jack is private by nature, but that at the same time he would absolutely hate people thinking he got a divorce. 
“He is.” She nods. “You think we can get him to talk?” She moves her chin subtly to point where Jack is walking back on the floor. 
Robby shakes his head slightly. “I don’t know.” The two turn their attention to Jack, watching as he starts walking to the hub.
He can feel their eyes on him. And they’re not exactly subtle or trying to hide it. He looks at them for a second and stops walking.
Jack sighs before turning and walking into the breakroom. As much as he acts annoyed about it he really does kind of like it. He likes having two people he trusts to talk to you about and show you off to. 
He crosses his arms over his chest as Dana and Robby walk in. “Can I help the two of you?” They both just raise their eyebrows at him. “Aren’t you both off? Go home.” 
“Can’t.” Robby shakes his head and clicks his tongue at Jack. “Haven’t run the board with you yet.” 
Jack scoffs. “Then let’s go fucking run it.” He takes a couple of steps forward. 
“So it led to more?” Dana finally asks, getting Jack to stop walking and cross his arms back over his chest. 
Jack looks at her stoically. “Does it matter to the two of you?” 
“Ha!” Robby laughs. “Yeah it matters Jack! You’re not wearing your ring! It’s been over five years and you haven’t taken it off and now you have her in your life and it comes off? It absolutely matters. She matters! She’s important!”
There’s a little pang for Jack when Robby mentions his ring and his lips turn down for just a split second, but both Robby and Dana catch it. “I didn’t ask if she mattered or if it mattered generally. I asked if it mattered specifically to the two of you.” 
“It does Jack!” Dana smiles at him. “Like I said before, we want to see you happy and support you.”
Jack looks at the two of them for a second before taking a deep breath and settling his hands on his hips. “Yes, if you must know, there’s more than just friendship now.” He can’t fight off the smile that pulls onto his face as he says it. Nor does he really want to.
“Oh yeah?” Dana’s smile grows and she raises her eyebrows at him. 
“Are you like together?” Robby asks. “Like is she your girlfriend? Or is it like the dating stage before you make it official?” 
“Oh my god,” Jack mutters, shaking his head and looking away from them. “Yes, we’re together and she’s my girlfriend, okay?”
“Since when?” Dana beams at him. Jack knows how happy she is for him, knows she and Robby have seen him at his lowest and truly do just want him to be happy and are excited for him and care and are accordingly being affectionately nosey. 
“Really?” Jack sighs. 
“Has to be pretty recent, we’d have noticed otherwise,” Robby says to Dana. 
“Really, I guess,” Jack mutters to himself. “Thursday night, okay? Thursday night.”
“So I’m guessing you haven’t been out on a real date yet,” Dana hums at him. “It’s important to go on dates without the baby. Real dates.” 
“Yes, I know, thank you.” Jack gives her an exaggeratedly annoyed smile. 
“And do romantic things,” Robby adds.
“I do romantic things! I know to do them! I-” Jack huffs and shakes his head. “What the fuck even is this? I don’t need dating or relationship advice! And we’ve been together all of five days, can we all slow the fuck down?”
“Listen,” Dana starts. “I’m just saying. I’ve been in the baby phase before and I know I was married, but it can be easy to fall into a routine and always have him with you. So if you guys ever need a sitter, I’m more than happy to do that for you, okay?”
“I would be happy to as well,” Robby offers. 
Jack nods at them both as he considers. “Yeah, I kind of like that. The idea of his sitter being a medical professional. And I’ve thought about it before. How the two of you would be my preferred sitters. But,” he shrugs at them, trying a little too hard to look uneffected, “he’s not my kid, so it’s not my decision.” 
“For some reason I think she’d take your opinion into consideration pretty seriously.” Dana smirks at him. 
“This would, you know, require us meeting her,” Robby teases him. 
Jack stares at him. “Thank you for that very helpful insight Michael.” 
“I’m just saying.” Robby smirks a little and shrugs at Jack. 
“Yes,” Jack sings the word a little, “she would like to meet you both. We’ll get it set up. Figure out something to do.”
“Good.” Dana nods approvingly. “We’ll be on our best behavior to convince her to let us babysit for you guys. Won’t we Robinavitch?” 
“Why’d you say it like that?” Robby looks at her with mock offense. “Of course I will be.” 
“She’s going to like you.” Jack rolls his eyes at the two of them. “She’s shy though, has some social anxiety. So if she’s quiet and seems a bit reserved it’s just because she’s shy and it has nothing to do with you guys. She opens up more as she gets comfortable but she’s just quiet by nature. So it’s different.” He nods at both of them. They both know what he means. That you’re not extroverted like his wife. That you’re kind of the polar opposite in a way. Jack clears his throat. “Now is there any other part of my relationship you’d like to plan or be involved in? You wanna actually plan the dates too?” Jack asks pointedly, though there’s enough of a ghost of a smile on his face for the two to know he’s not actually mad.
There’s silence for a few seconds but then Robby apparently just can’t help himself. “You have condoms? You should keep one in your wa-”
“Robby!” Dana lightly smacks his arm with the papers she’s holding as Jack glares at Robby with a set face. “Really? Even for you!” Dana shakes her head at him, but it’s quite obvious to Jack she’s biting down a smile. And when she turns back to look at Jack she gives him the quickest flash of a he’s right though look. 
“What? I just like fucking with him sometimes!” Robby half laughs as he twists and moves his body away from Dana and her papers. He looks back at Jack. 
Once he and Robby have locked eyes Jack speaks. “I’m going to give Myrna your home address,” he deadpans so stone faced and stoically he can see Robby have the quickest flash of worry that he might actually do it.
“Oh come on I was joking!” Robby holds his hands out to his side. After a beat he gives the smallest shrug and lowers his voice. “Kind of.” 
“See,” Jack looks at Dana and waves towards Robby, “and I was going to offer to show you guys pictures and then Michael had to open his fucking mouth.”
“Woah woah woah!” Dana shakes her head and moves closer to Jack, holding her hands up in acquiescence. “Don’t punish me for his bullshit! I didn’t say anything. I just volunteered to babysit!”
Robby scoffs loudly. “Thank you Dana, for the solidarity. I’m really feeling it right now.”
“I actually do genuinely appreciate you offering, Dana. We may take you up on that soon. But she’s not going to let you do it for free,” Jack tells her in a much softer voice. He pulls his phone out and starts pulling up some photos to show her. 
“I can babysit too!” Robby offers. “I’m also a medical professional you know!” 
Jack flicks his eyes up to look at Robby, stone faced again. “That’s debatable.” 
“I made one joke! After being so supportive-”
“Shut up and get over here to look,” Jack cuts him off with a slight cock of his head to tell Robby he’s just fucking with him back and not actually upset. “And yes, we might ask you to babysit one day too.”
Jack brings up a few random photos of your son that he’s taken over the months while watching him, a few of him and your son. “God, he is just too fuckin cute,” Dana laughs. 
“The cutest.” Jack smiles fondly as he looks at your son. 
He brings up a few more of your son, a couple of you and your son. Then he hits Thursday. 
“This was on Thursday. It was his first birthday. We took him to the zoo.” Jack laughs softly as he looks at the photos. “He loves animals.” He offers his phone to Dana. “You can go through.” 
Dana does, her and Robby laughing sweetly at some of them and awing at others. She stops on a photo of a three of you that you’d had someone take. “Oh Jack,” Dana coos, “you guys look so happy. All three of you.” 
“Yeah.” Robby nods, smiles to himself. “And that little boy loves you.”
Jack flushes at that. He’s not really sure why but it makes him a little emotional. He watches as Dana flicks through some more photos. “He’s a year old, he’s hit the stage of liking anyone who gives him attention.” He has no idea why he’s downplaying it like he doesn’t absolutely fucking love the fact that your son loves him.
Jack doesn’t have to see Robby to know he’s rolling his eyes. It’s clear in his voice. “That is so not true Jack. And he loved you that first time we met him.” 
“He’s right,” Dana agrees, “babies can be pretty good judges of character. They’ll stay away from and cry around people they don’t like. And he did love you when we met. So just accept the boy loves you.” 
Jack just hums in response. It makes him smile though. He loves your son too. “And she’s beautiful, Jack. You can tell you make her happy.” Dana looks away from the phone and at Jack. 
“Yeah,” he murmurs, smiling as he looks down at you, “she makes me happy too.”
Dana and Robby share a look. “You know she’d be really happy for you Jack,” Robby says softly, talking about Jack’s wife. “She would want this for you.” 
“He’s right again,” Dana whispers, leaning into Jack and wrapping an arm around him and giving him his phone back. 
Jack leans into her in a silent thank you. “Two times in one day,” he says quietly, “someone better mark it on the calendar.” Robby huffs at him but Jack looks up and smirks at him for a second before giving Robby a genuine, slightly emotional smile and tipping his head at him. “Thank you, Robby.” Robby returns Jack’s smile with an identical one of his own. “And thank you,” he tells Dana as he bumps into her and returns her half hug. “Can we go run the board now?” 
“I think we can,” Robby nods, clapping Jack on the shoulder as they walk towards the door. “But hey,” Robby pauses by the door, opening it so Dana can walk out but looking at Jack who raises his eyebrows at him. “You weren’t serious about giving Myrna my address?”
Jack’s stoic look returns, not a hint of real emotion on his face. “Not today,” he deadpans and walks out. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“I feel ridiculous for being this emotional about something so simple. It’s just a haircut.” You shake your head but lean into Jack a bit more as you both stand and watch your son get his hair cut. 
He’s needed it. He has for a bit you’ve just struggled to bring yourself to do it and life got busy. But earlier this week you’d worked yourself up to it and asked Jack if the place he got his hair cut also did kids’ hair. He’d been a little surprised by the question, for some reason it felt kind of meaningful in some way that you wanted your son to go to his barber shop. He told himself that realistically it was probably just because you didn’t know where else to go, but you could have gone wherever you get your hair done, but maybe they just don’t take kids. 
In any event your son is here at Jack’s barber shop getting a haircut. And you had asked Jack to come with you again once you made the appointment. He’d told you that you didn’t need to ask again, of course he would. You’ve been together a little over a week now and things have been good. Steady and sweet. Lots of hugs and forehead kisses and side cuddles on the couch when you’ve both been home at the same time. 
“First haircut, though. It’s kind of a big deal,” Jack murmurs to you, hand rubbing your back. 
“I don’t even know why I’m like this.”
“You don’t need to know why. You’re allowed to just feel. But I’m guessing it’s because it’s a sign of him growing up.” Jack presses a kiss to the top of your head. He’s not super sure how much you’ve thought about the end result but he wants you to be prepared. “Sweetheart, you know this haircut is most likely going to make him look much older?”
You go still and then Jack hears you sniffle. “No!” Your voice gets adorably high-pitched like you’re fighting back tears and you turn further into Jack and rest your forehead in the crook of his shoulder while you let a couple of tears fall. 
“I’ve got you,” Jack says with a sad little laugh, holding you close and rubbing your back. “I just wanted you to be prepared.” 
“I didn’t even think about that, I was just so focused on the haircut generally,” you mumble into him.
“I kind of thought so,” he murmurs, wiping away the one or two stray tears when you pull your face from his shoulder.
“God,” you huff at yourself, “when I said come with me to be my shoulder to cry on I didn’t think I was going to mean it literally.” 
Jack chuckles. “That’s alright, it’s part of what I’m here for. As in right now and generally, you know?” 
You look up at him and smile. You know he means as your boyfriend. “I do, yeah.” 
Later that night you and Jack are in the kitchen grabbing some water to take to bed with you and putting away a couple of things that have dried on the dish rack. You’d just finished watching your current show on the couch together like you often do. Jack had been right. The haircut makes your son look older. You’d had a little moment about it after you guys left the shop but you were able to move past it pretty quickly. 
Something about the day and the night has felt different for you. Jack has been so understanding and sweet and supportive and perfect, not just over the last week and a bit you’ve been together officially but even the three months before that, just in a different capacity. And you want more with him. You want to express your thanks and affection through more than hugs and side cuddles on the couch and forehead and cheek kisses. You want more of Jack. And you feel ready.
He’s putting the last of the dishes away.
“Hey Jack?”
“Yeah, Sweetheart?” His eyebrows raise a little as he shuts the cabinet door and turns to look at you. 
“Thank you. For today. Coming with me and holding me while I cried.” You shrug with a soft laugh. “I’m sorry you have to do so much of that right now.”
“You’re welcome. I was very happy to come, thank you for inviting me.” He walks closer to you but lets you initiate any touching. You wrap your arms around his waist loosely as you look up at him, his arms doing the same. “You have nothing to apologize for though. And I don’t feel like I’m having to hold you while you cry particularly often. Even if I was, I wouldn’t care. I mean I would care in the sense that I fucking hate seeing you upset, but not at the fact that you needed and wanted me to hold you. And I’m pretty sure you’ve held me while I cried recently too.” He tilts his head and gives you a little smirk. 
“I would anytime you needed.” You take a step closer to him and wrap your arms around him a little tighter, one of Jack’s arms around your waist while his other hand rubs up and down your back. 
Jack laughs softly, eyes crinkling so perfectly you could scream. “Same for you.” 
He looks beautiful in the flickering light of the lit candle on the kitchen table. Unfairly handsome with the way his skin glows and with his molten eyes and kissable and suckable lips and salt and pepper stubble. Jack’s thinking the same thing about you in this light. How the flickering light makes your eyes look like they’re shimmering, how the shadows hit perfectly to highlight your features and how the soft glow of the candle makes you look radiant. 
“What are you thinking about so hard?” you ask him a little breathlessly, closing the last of the distance between your bodies so that you’re flush against each other chest to chest, both your and Jack’s arms tightening around each other.
“That you’re beautiful,” he murmurs. “Incredibly so.” 
The smile that pulls on your face is bashful. “Funny, I was just thinking how incredibly handsome you are.” You lean your head up and in towards his, eyes dropping down to his lips for a second before returning to his eyes. “And how I’d like you to kiss me.” 
This close you can just about see Jack’s pupils dilate a little further. God does he fucking want to kiss you. But he finds himself unable to just do it without checking. “We don’t have to do this. You do not owe me. Not for going with you or because you cried and I held you or for anything at all. Ever.”
You nod at him. 
Jack brings his head down towards yours, tilting it slightly, eyes focused on your lips for a moment before going back to your eyes. “Say it please.” 
“I know. I know I don’t owe you,” you whisper, “I promise. I want this. I’ve been wanting this. And I’m ready.” 
“Okay,” he whispers, leaning his head down and towards yours further. Your lips are just about touching now.
“Jack,” you breathe against his lips. 
He nods once. “Yeah? You sure?” 
You nod at him. “Please.”
Jack doesn’t need asked twice. And so in your candle lit kitchen you share your first kiss. He presses his lips to yours in an almost painfully sweet and chaste kiss, holding his lips against yours just the right amount of time before he pulls away to look you in the eye, check in, see if you liked it, if you want more, if that’s enough for the night. 
The look in your eyes tells him all he needs to know just as the look in his tells you. But Jack doesn’t have time to even move in to kiss you again because you’re already kissing him, one hand resting on his chest while the other comes to cup his jaw and keep him close. 
You’re stealing kiss after kiss from each other, most of them starting to linger. Starting to get just a touch hotter. No open mouths or tongue or hard sucking, just more urgent.
Even kissing you Jack is respectful, though you expected absolutely nothing less with how he is, how he treats you. He lets you set the pace, follows your lead. There are soft noises of appreciation from each of you, the sounds slipping out easily even with the relatively chaste kissing you’re doing. 
You can feel the uncertainty of Jack’s hands as they rest against your hips, thumbs rubbing soft circles over your shirt. You know it’s not that he’s not confident or is particularly self-conscious, but that he’s not sure what you’re okay with, where you’re okay with his hands being. It makes you smile against his lips. 
“What?” he asks against your lips as he smiles just because you are. 
“Nothing.” You take another kiss. “You’re just very cute.”
“Oh?” Jack kisses you again.
You nod a little. “Yeah.” It’s mumbled against his lips. Your hands leave his chest and jaw to find his and bring them up to hold your face, silently communicating to him that it’s okay for him to hold your face like that, touch you like that. 
Jack doesn’t get to appreciate his hands holding your face very long because you’re grabbing them again, wrapping them around you and using your hand to make his hand squeeze and grab at your hip and waist, bring one up to hold the back of your neck, kissing each other all the while. “Thank you,” he murmurs against your lips. And he means it. He’s very thankful for you showing him what you’re okay with. 
“Thank you,” you mumble back, continuing to kiss him.
The last kiss breaks naturally and you pull apart. You’re both panting softly, less because you’re out of breath and more because you’re just worked up for each other. 
“That was…” You feel a little lightheaded. 
“Yeah.” Like you, Jack is a little dizzy from kissing you. “That felt so good.” He’s struggling to come up with words.
“Felt so… right,” you laugh, the sound breathless and airy. 
“Good.” Jack nods and smiles at you.  
“Did it for you?” you ask, suddenly a touch self-conscious. “Feel right?”
“Oh yeah, Sweetheart,” he drawls the first two words with a quiet and shaky laugh that says everything you need to know about just how good and right kissing you felt, “that felt right.” 
It’s then you get a good enough flicker of light to really notice the flush of his cheeks and neck. “Good.” You lean up and kiss him again.
The two of you kiss for another minute or so before you naturally break apart again. But this time Jack rests his forehead against yours. 
“We should probably go get some sleep,” Jack whispers.
“I’m not opposed to doing this all night.” You smile. 
Jack’s breathy laugh fans across your lips. “Neither am I. Believe me, neither am I.”
“I know you’re right though.” You can’t help the way your bottom lip pushes out in the slightest pout. 
“I really wish I wasn’t,” Jack groans before pulling his forehead from yours. 
You giggle at him. “But you are.” 
You share smiles before actually grabbing the water you in part initially came into the kitchen for. You grab the monitor and Jack blows the candle out as he follows you into the hallway, illuminated only by the nightlight you have so neither you, nor Jack now, has to blind yourself if you need to get to your son in the middle of the night. 
Like always as of late, Jack walks you to your bedroom door. “Thank you for a great day, Jack. And night.” You lean up and give him a quick kiss. “Goodnight, Sweetheart.”
He smiles at you. “No, thank you. For the great day and fantastic night.” Jack winks at you with a small slightly smirked smile that makes you bite your lip and laugh to yourself, bashful again. He leans back down asking for one last kiss that you’re happy to give him, along with a hug. “Goodnight, Sweetheart.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jack’s finishing up his shift Wednesday morning around 8:30. A trauma had come in right at shift change, so he’s only just had the chance to run the board with Robby. He’s signing off on a few last things and then is out, looking forward to some sleep. 
He nods a quick goodbye to Dana and starts to leave the hub when he hears a baby crying.
But it’s not just a baby crying. Jack would recognize that cry anywhere. Ice starts to spread through his veins.
Your son is here and crying and he is decidedly not happy. It’s not his usual cry. And for Jack if your son is randomly showing up here in his ED and not happy and crying the way he is, it means something is wrong. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I hope it was okay and worth the wait and you enjoyed and I would love to hear your thoughts and comments! They give me much joy and inspiration! Liking, replies and reblogging are so so appreciated! My inbox is always open for thoughts, comments, and general screaming! As are my DMs! 🙂
Do we want more of these two? I have like seven thousand ideas for the two of them if more than just myself would like to see more of them lol. The next couple of parts would probably less time jumping like this one and then I think it would probably pick back up again. Let me know if you'd like more!
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butyoudidthis4what · 5 days ago
Text
Quiet Part 2
Widower!Jack Abbott x Widow Single Mom!Reader
Part 1 can be found here!
23.9k || All my content is 18+ MDNI || CW: DOMESTIC JACK WITH READER'S BABY; Shy!Reader; Jack was in the army; reader's husband was in the army and died while deployed; discussions of loss of spouse; discussion of the death of Jack’s wife; suicidal ideation; briefest mention of thought of murder suicide (NOT directed at reader, in the context of Jack thinking about the guy who killed his wife, literally a single sentence); discussion of Jack’s injury; reference to death of parents (not Jack’s or Reader’s); grief; like lots of grief; guilt; so much fucking guilt for Jack and Reader; self hate for a bit for both Reader and Jack; baby is a boy but is not named; a bird; reference to past pregnancy, labor and delivery; crying; DTR conversation; thoughts about sex; angst; no use of Y/N or related
Summary: You and Jack define your relationship and work through more grief and guilt together.
AN: Twenty years later here we are with Part 2. Sorry about that 😅. Hopefully it was worth the wait. I don't know how I really feel about this (I know exactly how I feel and it's not fantastic but when is it ever). This is different from Part 1 in that there is less time jumping, but I think as they now are truly establishing their relationship and not working towards having one it makes sense. We also see considerably more emotion and grappling from Jack in this part. I considered doing a much more zoomed out kind of story with them but I like exploring emotions and such apparently so I didn't keep it as kind of quick to develop and move through their life as I originally thought I would. I don't know if that's good or bad, but it's reality lol. Again, it's kind of emotional but sweet in the beginning, and middle, but it gets funnier and fluffier (I hope) at the end. Anyway I hope you enjoy and thank you for reading!♥️
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“I’m so sorry,” you murmur to Jack as you pull away from him a little. “I really thought I was ready.”
You and Jack have been home for a few hours now, sitting on the couch and starting a new series together. Your son is out hard from his big birthday adventures, didn’t even stir as Jack changed him into some pajamas and put him down for the night while you trimmed the end of the rose Jack gave you and put it in a slim glass vase. 
You’d spent most of your time on the couch leaning against Jack. You like being close to him, like feeling him next to you, warm and sturdy and soft and safe and real and alive. The little voice in the back of your mind telling you this was wrong and to think of your husband was still there, and at times you did feel some confliction, but with the help of your therapist and time that voice had become nothing but a whisper most of the time and more easily dealt with if it got a little louder. 
By the time whatever platform it is asked whether you were still watching Jack had his arm around your shoulders and you were pressed firmly against his side with your head resting against his shoulder and chest, one hand in your lap and the other resting on the lower part of his thigh. You’re in that same position now only you’re both turned in towards each other a bit more and the hand that was in your lap is cupping Jack’s face, your head no longer resting on him. 
When he’d asked if you wanted to watch another episode or head to bed you’d responded by asking to kiss him. Jack had eyed you carefully as he said of course, and that he would like that, but only if you were ready. And you were so sure that you were until you lent in to do it. Hence your apology.
Jack shakes his head a little, leans into your palm where it’s still cupping the side of his face. “Why are you apologizing? It’s okay to not be ready. I’m happy you told me and didn’t push yourself to do something you weren’t ready for. That’s what I want.” 
“No, I know.” You sigh and look down, thumb brushing over Jack’s cheek absentmindedly. “I just feel bad because earlier on our way back I said I was ready for this, for there to be an us, and maybe a little more and now I’m not ready for a little more.”
“I know it’s not easy and me saying this doesn’t make it all better, but please try not to feel bad. It’s okay. And I mean it.” Jack watches you carefully to gauge your reaction and make sure he’s not overstepping as he sets his hand on top of yours and squeezes gently to get you to look at him again. You do, and it hurts him to see how frustrated and upset with yourself you look. He knows how hard this all is. How easy it is to feel like you’re being disloyal. How hard it is to be vulnerable again. He wishes he could make it better for you, take away your struggle because he doesn’t like seeing you struggling and the concomitant hurting. “I’m glad you told me and listened to yourself. I want you to truly be ready for every step of this. I’m not going anywhere just because you say you’re ready for something and then the moment comes and you’re not. You don’t owe me anything, ever.”
“I know,” you mumble, looking away from him. “I just wanted to be ready. I want to kiss you, I really do. I want to give you that, give myself that. I just…” You sigh and pull your hand from his cheek, resting it back in your lap. You’re disappointed in yourself even though you know you shouldn’t be. You did a lot today, gave Jack and yourself a lot. You started a relationship for christ’s sake. You know he has no expectations of you but for some reason you apparently have them of yourself and holding hands and starting this with him and kind of cuddling him on the couch apparently don’t meet them. “I don’t know. I don’t know why it’s so hard.” 
Jack shakes his head slowly. “It was for me too at the beginning. I’m not sure I could articulate why either, but I understand, I promise.”
“I feel like I’ve ruined an otherwise great day.” You look up at him, eyes a little glassy. “And I want this Jack, I’m ready for this. For us to be in a relationship exclusively… for us to be a couple. I want that. A lot.” 
“Hey,” he draws the word out as he tilts his head at you, “you haven’t ruined anything. I promise. I had a great day. The best day I’ve had in a long, long fucking time. I’m really glad you invited me.” He tentatively grabs your hand from your lap and laces your fingers together. “I want that a lot too, to be in a relationship with you, exclusively. To be a couple. So let’s do it, yeah?”
You squeeze his hand, eyes rounded more than usual and brows pulled together. You can’t let go of this undefined concern you have. You’re happy, you genuinely are. Butterflies flutter away in your stomach at the thought of finally being with Jack and at the way he’s looking at you, small, excited smile and sparkling eyes. Like you just gave him some huge gift. It feels like you’ve given him barely anything. “Yeah, let’s do it.” You nod, give him a small smile and laugh a little, almost embarrassed for some reason. Jack is just so handsome and such a good man and you’re having such a vulnerable conversation and admitting your feelings for him. And even though you have before you still find yourself feeling like a teenager almost. “We’re a couple.”
Jack’s smile widens and he nods. “We’re a couple.” He leans forward just slightly before he stops himself. If you were ready he’d have leaned in and kissed you then. And if he’s honest with himself he is disappointed a little bit, but not with you, just that he can’t make you feel good like that, can’t show you how happy he is through a kiss, can’t claim you like that. Because he’s possessive already. He feels it, hard. Harder than he should this early on maybe. 
He looks at you so intensely, is clearly over the moon about this. You don’t realize you’re looking at him the same way, that he can tell how happy you are, how much you want this. 
You groan a little but keep your smile as you let your head fall against the side of his chest. “What?” he laughs softly. He lets his other hand come down and rub your back a little, hyper focused for just a second to gauge your reaction and make sure this is okay. He struggles with the line between asking and trying things because he doesn’t want to make you feel like he’s afraid to touch you, but at the same time he wants to be respectful and not make you uncomfortable.
You shrug against him. “I don’t know. I just feel like… a teenager learning her crush likes her back,” you laugh a little, words slightly mumbled against him. “And I guess I don’t understand it. Why you want me when I come with so much… baggage. And a baby.” 
Jack hums a little and you can feel the vibrations. It makes you shiver. Makes you imagine feeling them in a different context, your head resting on his chest after sex when he hums at something you say or how you run your hand over the part of his chest your head isn’t occupying as you curl into him. “Well, I think our baggage matches. Same pattern, maybe a different color since it’s not exactly the same. Or what is it the youths say these days. Different font.” 
You snort a laugh against him and pull back to look at him. “The youths? Different font?”
“What?” he laughs. “We get a lot of new grads on night shift. They teach me their lingo, keep me up to date and cool.” 
You give him a lopsided smile and tilt your head as you raise your eyebrows slightly. “Lingo?” 
Jack shakes his head. “I never said they were replacing what I grew up with.” He smirks at you. “And back to your point, you come with a baby and I come with baggage and missing a foot with extra trauma and PTSD from that. We all have our things. I want you because you’re beautiful, on the outside yes, but on the inside too. You’re a beautiful person. Caring, selfless to a fault sometimes, giving, funny, adorable, empathetic, so empathetic I know it makes you hurt at times, strong, you have to be the strongest person I know-”
“Jack,” you cut him off, unable to stomach anymore compliments that part of you disagrees with. “Thank you.” You smile and give a breathy laugh. “I’m not sure I understand it still, but… I know how genuine you are.”
He nods slowly. “Can I admit something? It might freak you out and if it does you can tell me to shut up or to leave and never come back-”
“Yes, and I very much doubt I’ll react like that.” You give him a knowing smile. 
Jack grimaces slightly, not quite in disbelief but in a you-haven’t-heard-what-I’m-about-to-say kind of way. He takes a deep breath and then lets it out. “I think we were supposed to meet. I never believed in fate or anything like that but then I saw you,” he shakes his head a little and looks away from you. “I saw you and I was drawn to you. It felt like I was supposed to know you. And then when I walked into the room with you it felt like I’d known you forever. You were familiar. It felt like I knew you’d understand me even if I didn’t know why at the time. And you do. Not just because we’re both widows but,” he shrugs, “you just get me. And I still feel all of that today. I have every day since we met.” 
He forces himself to look back up at you, stomach churning at the thought of seeing your reaction. Because he gets how that sounds, how it could make him look almost obsessive or kind of insane. But you’re just smiling softly at him. And your heart and your mind and your lips ache to kiss him, but you know that emotionally you’re not there. That it would be too much all in one day. 
“I felt the same thing,” you admit. Jack’s eyebrows raise and his head pulls back a little at the shock. He’d felt it in the room that day, like you felt whatever was between the two of you too, but he’d since convinced himself that he was projecting and just wanted you to feel it so he was telling himself it felt like you recognized it too. But you apparently really had. “It kind of freaked me out with how exhausted and scared and emotional I was,” you laugh quietly. “But believe me, I felt it too. Like we were supposed to know each other and were meeting for a reason. And believe me, my therapist and I have talked about it and then some because it was hard for me at first. The idea of this first sight kind of thing.”
“Really?” he whispers. 
“Really.” You nod. You squeeze Jack’s hand and drop your eyes. You hate that you can’t kiss him, don’t understand why you don’t feel ready for that. It’s just a kiss. One that you want. You hate your brain for it, for allowing your grief to still control you. Deep down you know it’s not that easy and you know that the kiss is a big deal because it’s with Jack and it’s going to mean something. It’s going to make you feel so many things. Things you felt for your husband. You need him to know though. That you do want him physically. “I really want to kiss you right now. I just want you to know that. That I do want to kiss you. And want more with you, physically. I wish that I was ready. I wish I could give you more physically so this felt like a real relationship.”
Jack can hear the emotion in your voice. He knows you’re probably closer to tears than you want him to know and that you’re beating yourself up pretty badly inside. He hates it. “Hey,” he says softly, slipping his hand out of yours and using his index finger to tilt your head back up to look at him when you don’t resist. He moves his hand up so that it cups your cheek. “This okay?” His eyes dart around your face looking for any hesitation or sign of distress as you nod and lean into his hand a bit. “First, I think we do more physical stuff than you think. Holding hands. Kind of cuddling on the couch. That’s all physical. But second, and more importantly, the physical stuff isn’t what makes or defines our relationship, yeah? You’re putting too much pressure on yourself I think. Probably being pretty mean to yourself. I don’t need to be able to kiss you to feel like I’m in a real relationship with you. I don’t need anything physical in particular to feel like that. Do you?”
“No.” You shake your head and then shrug a little. “But, I don’t know, I just think that sometimes for men it can be different maybe.”
Jack smiles at you. “Guess I’m not every man,” he teases with a little smirk. His heart soars when it makes you laugh a little. “What I need to know that I’m in a relationship with you is to know that you want to be in one with me, that you consider us to be in one, that you know I’m here for you for anything and everything, that I want you to tell me everything, that you know there is no judgment from me, and that you know that I know the same is true for you towards me. The physical stuff will come with time as you feel more ready. It doesn’t matter how long it takes. I’m content and happy in this relationship just as it is now. I promise. And I meant it too. You don’t owe me anything. You don’t need to give me anything in a physical sense for me to be happy or feel secure in our relationship.”
“I know,” you whisper. “I do, I promise. And I don’t need it to be happy or secure either but I want it. And I know you want it too.”
Jack squeezes your face softly and lets out a breath as he looks away from you for a second. You know he’s conflicted. He knows you know. It’s hard to formulate an answer because the last thing he wants is for you to feel pressure or like he’s just going to be in this relationship waiting around for the day you can kiss and makeout and have sex and then he’ll become really invested. But he also can’t lie to you and say he doesn’t want you. 
He returns his eyes to yours and hopes his reflect how genuine and honest he’s being. “Of course I want it. Of course I want you. Look at you.” Jack’s eyes trail over all of your body he can see in this position and the way he looks at you feels unholy in a way, needy and lusting and reverent. So incredibly reverent. You already know when you do get there Jack is going to worship you. He already looks like he’s ready to get on his knees just for the opportunity to gaze upon you, clothed or unclothed. “I’m not going to lie to you and say I don’t. But I need you to know I’m not going to be in this relationship just sitting around waiting for the day we can do more and have sex and then I’ll become truly invested. I’m all in now. I’m invested in this, in us and our relationship now. Okay?”
“Yes, but, Jack,” you shake your head at him a little, look desperate for him to hear and believe you, “please don’t think I doubted that for a second. Your commitment and investment. That’s not what I meant or how I meant to make it seem because I wouldn’t be ready and I wouldn’t be doing this with you if I felt like that for a second, I promise.”
“Hey, I didn’t think you did,” he soothes, thumb brushing over your cheek. “I just needed to say it for myself and so that you heard it explicitly from me.”
“Okay. Good.” You nod. “Good. I’m sorry, I know I’m making this a big deal and way more complicated and long of a conversation than it needed to be.”
“Please don’t apologize. You’re not doing any of that. We’re just having a conversation and communicating so we both know where we are. That’s healthy. And you voicing your worries and anxieties and your thoughts, that’s important. That’s what I want. I want to hear all of that kind of stuff.” He smiles at you, just a hint of a smirking edge. “I want to be there for my girlfriend, yeah?”
You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding at girlfriend. You knew that’s what you are, what you defined during this conversation but hearing it is different. It makes your heart race. “Yeah.” There’s barely any substance to the word with how breathed out it is and your reaction to the word makes Jack chuckle to himself a bit. You really are adorable. 
He knows this next question is going to fluster you further, but it’s an important one for him so that he doesn’t cross a line. “If you know, and it’s okay if you need a bit to think about it, how are you feeling about pet names? Being called one.” 
“Oh.” You blink at him. “I um…” You look down at your lap, suddenly even shyer than usual somehow with Jack’s intense gaze flustering you further. You don’t know what you were expecting him to ask but you guess it wasn’t that. It makes your brain a little fuzzier as you try to figure it out. You can’t believe Jack wants to call you a pet name. It’s sweet. And the way he asked and didn’t just do it is even sweeter. Toothache sweet. “Yes, yeah.” You nod at him and clear your throat, looking back into his eyes. “I’m okay with them. I can’t believe you want to call me one,” you laugh softly but incredulously, “but, um yeah. Yeah, I would like that. And you? Would you, or how, how do you feel? About them. Pet names.”
Jack beams at you, nodding a little. “I have to tell you that you’re so adorable when you’re flustered like this. When you get a little shyer on me.” His voice is lower than it normally is and Jack forces himself to keep looking into your eyes and not to glance down at your lips. He lets his words linger for a few seconds before clearing his throat and answering your question. “I would like that too. If you’re ready to use one with me, and it’s okay if you’re not.” You shake your head at him to indicate he doesn’t need to worry about that. That you are ready. 
“You have to tell me the one, though.” You cock your head at him, eyebrows pulling together in confusion. Jack swallows hard, his heart rate picking up. It’s always hard, bringing this side of things up. And he knows it’s liable to send you into a bit of a spiral, to shove your loss and your grief in your face, and on today of all days. He hates it. But not knowing might lead him to inadvertently hurt you worse one day. “The one I’m not allowed to call you because it belongs to you and your husband.” 
“Oh,” you say again, breathe it out this time as your eyes find the folded American flag in its box on display. You didn’t even think about that. And you are so so glad that Jack did because you know if he accidentally called you that one it would have sent you spiraling so hard. Just the question has your mind spinning a little because now it’s like a montage in your head, it’s all you can hear. Your husband calling you Angel. Jack knows what’s happening, what’s playing out in your mind. He recognizes the specific glaze to your eyes. And it’s happening for him too a bit. A montage of his wife calling him Darling. Always Darling. Almost never Jack. 
Jack’s hand pulling away from your face to take your hand again and squeezing it is what brings you back. You bring your eyes back to his. “Angel,” you whisper. 
He nods. “Darling,” he whispers back. You know what he means. That’s his one. 
You feel the tears stinging your eyes but you huff a laugh instead of cry. Jack’s eyebrows raise slightly. “I’m just realizing how fucked up that is. I never thought about it before. Angel. He called me Angel and then he went off and fucking died and became one if you believe in that shit.” You click your tongue behind your teeth as the tears start to fall. Because he died. Because he called you Angel. Because it’s your son’s first birthday and he isn’t here. Because you’re with Jack and you’re happy and it suddenly feels so wrong even though you know it’s what he would want. “Fucking Angel,” you whisper as you devolve into quiet tears. 
You’re not even fully conscious of doing it because it’s just so natural and feels so right. You crawl fully into Jack’s lap and curl into him, one arm wrapping around his neck and your other hand fisting at his shirt as you bury your face in his neck and slowly devolve into quiet and muffled sobs. 
The move shocks Jack into complete stillness for a moment. It’s by far the closest the two of you have ever been, the most physically intimate. And he’s so aware that you’re this close and sobbing into him over your dead husband. He feels responsible for your sobs too. He brought it up, forced you to think about it. He just didn’t want to call you the wrong thing. 
His mind spins as he tries to decide what to do. Is it taking advantage of you and your completely vulnerable state somehow if he reciprocates your touch right now? Do you want his touch? Would it be comforting? Will you think it means something negative if he doesn’t touch you? You wouldn’t have climbed into his lap and be clinging to him if you weren’t okay with him touching you and weren’t seeking out comfort from him, right? 
Jack wraps his arms around you slowly, paying close attention to see if you stiffen even slightly or show some other sign of discomfort. He lets one hand rest on your back and the other over your hair on the back of your head to hold you close. When you cling to him tighter in response he tightens his grip around you in turn, hoping the pressure will help ground you. “I know,” he murmurs. “I know.” 
You hate this. Hate being like this and asking Jack to deal with it and intruding on his space and ruining everything with your tears. But Jack is comfort. He’s your boyfriend now and he understands the reason you’re sobbing, the pain behind it. The grief. You trust him with this side of yourself, want his comforting touch and the grounding he offers even as your heart breaks for your husband and what you lost. You didn’t mean for this to happen and you know Jack feels responsible but it’s not his fault. He didn’t make it happen, didn’t make you feel like this. 
“I’m sorry,” you choke out against his neck in between hiccupped sobs. You immediately feel him shaking his head, hold you a little closer. 
“You have nothing to be sorry for.” He keeps his voice low, starts rubbing your back. “It’s okay. Let yourself feel it. I’ve got you.” Jack rocks you gently. “Let it all out. I understand. And you’re okay, you’re allowed to feel these feelings with me, okay?”
The way he knows exactly what to say makes you sob harder for a moment as you take every whispered reassurance to heart. “It’s so unfair Jack,” you sniffle against him before letting out a more audible sob, “for both of us, it’s so unfair. I hate it, I hate it so much. And, and I wish I could make it a little better for you like you, like you do for me. I’m so-sorry.”
Jack barely has time to process the stinging in his eyes before tears of his own are sliding down his face. For all of it. For you. For your loss. For his wife. For his loss. For how right you are, how un-fucking-fair the world is. For how you think you don’t make it a little better for him. 
“It is,” he whispers, “it’s so fucking unfair.” Jack takes in his own shuddery breath. “And you do, you do make it a little better. I promise.” He sniffles, goes to kiss the top of your head but stops himself, nuzzles his nose against you instead. 
It takes a bit longer for you to cry yourself out. Jack’s tears stopped well before yours and he never stopped whispering to you, never stopped holding you. Never made you feel like it was too much. Like you were too much. Like he needed this to stop and you to get out of his arms and leave him alone. Never rushed you.
And he keeps holding you once you stop crying, his hand still rubbing your back and the other still holding the back of your head to keep you close to him. You get to a point where you’re mostly quiet, only the occasional sharp stuttery breath. “I’m sorry,” you mumble against Jack’s neck. “That was unfair of me.”
He shakes his head. “No it wasn’t. You needed to let out some emotion. That’s part of what I’m here for, to hold you through that.” 
You shrug in his arms. “I don’t want you to think you caused it. By asking. I’m glad you asked.” You shift a little, pulling your head from his neck and resting the side of it in the crook of his shoulder, his hand on the back of your head quickly wiping the remnants of his tears and then coming down to wrap around you. “I… I don’t even know what that was. Or why it happened. It just does sometimes.” 
“It does for me too,” Jack murmurs. “And you don’t need to know what it was or why it happened. It can just happen.” 
It’s then you can hear the remnants of tears in Jack’s voice and the realization you made him cry is enough to bring you back to the brink of tears. “I’m sorry for making you cry and hurt.” Your whisper is so low he barely catches it. 
“You didn’t,” he says firmly, trying to emphasize that it wasn’t you. “You didn’t anymore than I made you cry and hurt.” He shrugs. “The world did,” he says simply.
There’s a lot more you want to say to that but you don’t. Because it doesn’t really matter at the end of the day. It happened. It’s the past now. You cried clinging to each other on your couch and made it to the other side of that overwhelming grief together. All you want is to be closer to Jack somehow. 
You shift again, pulling your head away from Jack’s body so that you can look at each other, his arms loosening around you automatically so that you’re free to move, to get off him if you want. But you don’t want that. 
“Jack?” Your voice is a little shaky and it feels so dumb to have it be shaky over what you’re about to ask him to do. It’s barely anything but for some reason it feels huge right now.
“Yeah?”
“Will you kiss my forehead?”
His eyebrows raise. It feels huge for him too right now. Almost as intimate as kissing your lips. Jack’s eyes search yours. “You sure?” 
He has to check. Has to make sure you really do want it and are ready for it. You nod, smile at him and his concern and need to check softly. He cares about you so much. Cares about your relationship so much. Doesn’t want to hurt you or ruin anything. “I am. I want it a lot. If you do.”
“Yeah, okay,” he whispers a little breathlessly. “Yeah, I want it too.”
He moves slowly, giving you time to pull away and change your mind. His hands move to your neck, thumbs along your jaw and he nods with slightly raised brows, asking if it’s okay. You nod a little and lean closer into him.
Both your and Jack’s eyes flutter closed when his lips make contact with your forehead. He doesn’t linger with this kiss, just plants a kiss on your forehead and pulls back a bit to see how you react and if you pull away. When he sees a smile ghost your lips and you stay where you are he leans back in for another and lets this one linger, lips pressed to the soft skin of your forehead for a good thirty seconds before he pulls away. 
You let your eyes flutter back open. “Thank you. I, I liked that. If you ever wanted to do it again. That would be okay with me.”
Jack gives you a crooked smile, gaze as intense as ever. “I like that too. And I would like to do it again, yeah.”
You nod at him. “Good,” you whisper. Your eyes leave his and track the tear stains on his cheek and neck until you see the mess of his neck and shirt that you made and cringe. “I’m so sorry I got you and your shirt all snotty and gross.” 
Jack chuckles. “I’m a doctor. That doesn’t phase me for a second. It’s one of the most benign bodily fluids to get on me.”
“Still.” A rather large yawn hits you and you cover your mouth, shaking your head. “I’m so sorry, that just came out of nowhere.” 
Seeing you yawn makes Jack yawn of course and he similarly covers his mouth. “It’s been a long day and crying can make you tired.” Jack lets his hand rest on your hip, watching you intently to see how you react. “You should get to bed and get some sleep as much as I’d love to stay out here and talk with you all night.” He squeezes your hip gently. 
“Probably, yeah.” You yawn again, this one not quite as big. “Definitely, apparently,” you laugh. “You should get some sleep too.”
Jack laughs with you. “Yeah, probably I should.” He offers you his hand to hold as you slide off him and stand up, grabbing the baby monitor. Once you take a step away he stands up behind you, rests his hand on your lower back as he walks you over to your bedroom door. “I had a really great day. Thank you for inviting me to spend it with you. And um,” Jack blushes again and looks away from you for a second. You have to bite your lip at it as you smile because it’s so cute and you can’t believe talking to you, anything related to you, is making him blush. He looks so cute flustered. You get it. Why he said it earlier. “I’m,” Jack clears his throat as he looks back at you, cheeks still a little tinged with pink. “I’m really happy about us.”
You beam at Jack. You know you must look ridiculous, so overly excited and happy. The whole thing is kind of surreal and even though you’re in your house in front of your bedroom door and Jack’s about to walk down the hall and into the guest room it feels like him dropping you off at your front door after a first date. “I am too.” His words echo in your mind and it’s a little bold for you but you’re just following him really. “I have to tell you that you’re so adorable when you’re flustered like this. When you get a little shy on me.”
Jack laughs, shaking his head at you. His blush deepens and you really could scream at how adorable he is. “Yeah, well, you have that effect on me. You wanna talk about feeling like a teenager.” He rolls his eyes at himself playfully. 
“I totally get it,” you giggle. You get slightly more serious, the giggle fading away while the huge, what you’re sure must be at least slightly goofy, smile doesn’t leave your face. Jack’s smiling too though, just as happy and excited as you. “Are you going to tell Robby and Dana?”
“Oh,” Jack scoffs a laugh and runs a hand through his hair. It shouldn’t make your heart stutter the way it does. “I don’t think I’ll even have to. They’ll just know. Just from looking at me the next time they bring you up. Which will be the next time I see them.” He shakes his head at them and then looks back at you, cheeks a little pink again, that boyish, slightly flustered smile gracing his face. “Are you okay if I show them pictures? Of him? And uh, you and him? And all of us?”
“Oh, um, yeah. Yeah, of course.” Now you’re the one flustered thinking about Jack wanting to show you and your son off. 
“Thank you. I know they’ll enjoy seeing him. Anyway,” he nods at you, “I should let you get some sleep.”
“Can we hug?” You blurt out before Jack can say anything else. 
It catches Jack off guard so it takes a second to process, but his smile widens as it does. “Of course we can, if you’re ready for that. I would like that.” 
You nod. “I am. Not really that much different from the couch, is it? Except I won’t be sobbing into you this time.” You laugh breathlessly just at the thought of hugging him and him wanting to hug you. 
“True,” Jack laughs softly with you. “If you need to cry again you can of course. And I’m going to let you lead, okay? Show me how tightly you want it. And if a hand goes somewhere you don’t like or I do something you don’t like please tell me right away.” 
“I will,” you assure him, “but I trust you and I know nothing like that will happen.”
He nods at you and steps closer, holding his arms out a bit so you can wrap yours around him. You hug him tight as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you in close to him. You nuzzle your face against his chest and take in several deep breaths through your nose to savor his scent before resting the side of your head on his chest and enjoying the sound of his heart beating and the feeling of his arms holding you, warm and strong and safe. Half of you wants to ask him for his shirt to sleep in but you know you’re not there, that the smell of another man in your bed would be a little too much for you right now. 
Jack nuzzles his nose in your hair, absentmindedly kisses the top of your head occasionally because he can do that now. And he can tell you like it by the way you squeeze him a little tighter when he does. You feel perfect in his arms and holding you like this makes his heart glow in a way it hasn’t in a long, long time. He feels happy and content in a way he wasn’t sure he would ever feel again after his wife.  
You could both stay like this for hours. But Jack knows you’re exhausted. Knows you have to work tomorrow. He relaxes his arms and pulls away just slightly. It has the desired effect, you look up at him wide-eyed with a small smile, able to guess what’s coming next. 
Jack slides his hands up your sides and then brings them to hold your face gently, smiling down at you like you’re the only thing that exists in this moment. He leans down and presses the softest kiss to your forehead, lets it linger as he tries to use the kiss to say thank you and he’s so happy because of you and he can’t believe you’re his girlfriend and he’ll wait as long as you need and he cares about you and you’re so incredibly important to him. He pulls his lips from your forehead eventually, only to bring them back down and give you a couple more kisses there, letting the last one linger just a little before his lips brush against your skin as he murmurs to you. “Goodnight, Sweetheart.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A day later Jack glances at the baby monitor when he hears your son stir a little. 
He shouldn’t be waking up yet, he didn’t go down that long ago and he is normally a very good napper. A good sleeper in general. True to form he just shifts around a little and then is back out. 
It makes Jack smile and laugh to himself as he resumes doing the dishes. Almost everything is in the now-running dishwasher but there are a few things that can’t go in and he’s giving your son’s highchair tray a good scrub. 
It’s Friday and Jack’s on a solid string of off days and so is home with your son. A kid at daycare is sick and honestly, Jack just likes being with your son, and so anymore it’s more common for your son to be with Jack than at daycare when Jack is off. You’re both looking forward to having the weekend together, especially now that you’re together. It’ll be your first weekend as a couple. You have absolutely no plans, but both of you kind of like that. 
As he scrubs Jack tries to formulate a plan to get you to let him take the monitor tonight so that he can get up with your son and you can sleep in tomorrow. He knows you’re going to fight him on it, but he wants to do it for you. He’ll just have to make sure he’s the one who grabs it when you guys get up to go to bed. 
The thought crosses his mind that maybe it’ll be a moot point. Maybe you’ll invite him to sleep in your bed with you. Just to sleep and be close, not for anything else and not even naked. But that thought quickly morphs into kicking himself mentally, asking himself why the actual fuck he’s thinking about that when you aren’t even ready to kiss and have been a couple for less than 24 fucking hours. 
He knows it’s because he wants that closeness with you. Wants to basically hug you all night. He would absolutely never pressure you into doing so, it’s just why he’s thinking about it. Thinking about your warm skin against his, your breathing slow and soft as you sleep curled into him, the little sounds you’d make in your sleep, how peaceful you’d look, and god the sound of your sleepy voice in the morning, spoken more into his chest than anything as you nuzzle against him and try to hide from the light and ask for five more minutes. 
No. Just no, Jack tells himself. He needs to stop. It feels wrong on so many levels to think about you like that, even though it’s not sexual. If only Jack knew the way you were miles away daydreaming in your office about effectively the same thing and about kissing him. 
He turns his thoughts elsewhere. What to make for dinner. He likes cooking for you and your son. He likes watching your face when you take first bites and is borderline addicted to the smiles you give him, the soft hums you give him that are really almost moans when you particularly like something, the praise of ‘this is amazing Jack’ and ‘god you really outdid yourself tonight’ and ‘fuck that’s good’ and ‘you spoil me’ and ‘this is incredible Jack, thank you for cooking’ you give him. 
But what to make? He could do something he’s made before and knows you like. He could try something new. Or you could get takeout. Make it kind of a mini-date at home. He knows your favorite places and dishes by now and he could wait until you get home to order, ask what place you’d prefer. Depending on how long your son naps and what kind of mood he’s in the three of you could potentially go out somewhere. But you did that last night. So maybe him making something is actually better. So he circles back to the question. What to make?  
While he’s letting ideas for dinner percolate in the back of his mind he thinks about how he needs to set up something so that you can meet Robby and Dana. He wants you to meet them of course but they’re also the two best potential babysitters if you end up liking them and feeling like you can trust them. And you’re going to need one if he’s going to ever be able to take you out on a real date. He loves doing stuff as the three of you, yes, but he still wants to date you. Just you. Do something with you that you guys couldn’t do with your son. Focus on each other.
Jack knows it’ll be hard for you to leave your son and he’s not going to force the issue of course, but he hopes that having a nurse or a doctor as a sitter will help allay at least some of your fears. He should probably think of a good date idea before bringing it up though. 
What if he had you cook with him tonight? If you wanted. Almost like a little cooking class date, just at home. You always talk about wanting to become a better cook. That could be fun right? Your son could watch from his highchair or Jack could baby-wear him with a wrap or the carrier. Depending on how late you get home and how early your son goes down for the night and how late you’re okay eating your son might even be asleep by then. Unlikely but not impossible. 
As he finishes the dishes he decides that he’ll go pick something to make and get a list of things to buy at the store. Then once your son is awake from his nap and maybe had a snack they can walk to the store together, maybe drive depending on how much is needed. 
Jack grabs the clean dish towel to dry his hands. And that’s when he realizes it. When he feels it. Or rather doesn’t feel it. His eyes snap to his left hand. 
No wedding ring. 
Jack’s stomach drops, fingers and toes going cold while adrenaline floods his system and shoves him right into fight or flight, breathing and heart rate picking up. He spins back to the sink, praying that he’ll find his ring resting in the sink or on the grate of the one side and that it didn’t slide down into the pipe on the garbage disposal side. Or that he didn’t lose it somewhere else and is just now noticing. How could he have not fucking noticed the second it came off?
A short burst of relief floods him when he finds it sitting against the grate. He’s quick to pick it up and hold it in the palm of his hand, stare down at it. He still can’t believe himself. That he didn’t feel it when it came off. He knows he was in his head and thinking but still. That’s his wedding ring. That’s her. One of a few things he has left of her and it came off and he didn’t feel it. The ring he’s worn every day for how many years now? And he didn’t fucking feel it come off. He’s the worst, his brain tells him as he slips into mentally berating himself. 
And the thing is, Jack has known he needs to take off his ring, especially now that you’re ready and in a relationship and together. He’s been mentally preparing for it and thinking about it. He’s been trying to work his way up to it. He was hoping to do it this weekend at some point. 
He never expected to not have a choice. For it to slip off while doing the dishes. He’s been doing the dishes for the past five years, scrubbing his hands at work for the past five years and nothing. It never came off. And he knows he does have a choice. He knows he could slip it back on right now. 
But instead he just stares at it in his palm. 
He doesn’t know what to do. It needed to come off. But he wanted to take it off. Have it be an intentional thing. Be talking to her in his mind when he did it, reassuring himself and her that it’s not that he doesn’t love her anymore because he does, he always will. And instead it came off and he didn’t notice. What does that tell her? But if he puts it back on how long will it be until he can bring himself to take it off again? Was he ever really going to work up to taking it off or did something like this need to happen? Is this a sign from the universe? Did it happen on purpose?
A tapping sound on the glass of the window behind the sink interrupts Jack’s thoughts. He looks up and there’s no fucking way this is real. A bird is there on the windowsill looking back at him and tilting its head back and forth at him how birds do. It’s not just any bird though. 
It’s a mourning dove. His wife’s favorite. 
The irony of the name was not lost on him the first time he saw one after she died. It was years ago. Five and a bit years ago. At her funeral. One had landed on her casket and Jack had come a little unglued for a minute, ended up squeezing Robby’s forearm so tight it was bruised for a couple of weeks. 
Since then they’ve become a little thing for him. He tells himself it’s silly, but he feels like they’re her in a way. A kind of manifestation of her spirit visiting him. Because he’s only seen them a few times since then and each of those times has been poignant. A couple of times when he visited her grave. A few times on the roof at work when his feet got a little too close to the ledge. Once after he kissed a woman other than her for the first time after her death. And now that he really thinks about it he realizes that one landed on the ground in front of him as he waited to cross the street on his way to work on the day he met you. 
He looks back down at his wedding ring and picks it up with his right hand, holds his left hand out as he thinks about putting it back on. More tapping on the glass and that familiar coo has him focusing back on the dove. It’s beautiful. Just like she was. It has a unique line of black feathers just above one of its eyes. It makes the usual blue ring that circles a mourning dove’s eye pop even more. 
It has to mean something, Jack tells himself. Except that’s crazy, right? It’s just a bird on a windowsill. It doesn’t mean it’s her visiting and trying to tell him something.
Jack stares back at it. It feels like a sign. All of it. His ring slipping off while doing the dishes at your house when it hasn’t before in over five years of doing dishes. The dove appearing. It feels like her telling him that it’s okay. It’s okay to not wear his ring. It’s okay to be with you. It feels like her blessing. 
He closes his right hand around his ring and the dove looks at him for a few more seconds, gives him a couple more coos before it flies off leaving Jack standing there trying to process everything that’s happened in the last five minutes. But then his mind goes blank for a moment and there’s nothing but the feeling of his wedding ring pressing into the palm of his right hand. 
Jack’s turning so his back is against the base cabinets as he slides to the floor, tears blurring his vision as it slams into him and consumes him. The memory of that ring going on his finger. Her face and how excited she was. How beautiful she looked in her white dress with that veil. How she could barely get her vows and the ring exchange out, not from tears but from giggles. How her it was. How she held onto his finger once she slid his ring on. How she didn’t let go until the very end of the ceremony when she could finally hold his face as they kissed for the first time as husband and wife. How she was obsessed with his left hand all night, constantly holding it and running her fingers over his ring. How she kissed it that night in bed. 
Jack doesn’t even realize how hard he’s sobbing as he clutches his right hand and ring to his chest, right over his heart. It all replays for him. How they met. Their first date. Their second date. Their first kiss. Their first time. Leaving for his first deployment while they were together. Coming back and her running and jumping into his arms, refusing to leave them all night. 
Getting to be home and spend time with her. All the things they did together in between deployments. Going abroad. Hiking. Renting a cottage on the beach in Connecticut for a weekend. Making dinner at home together. Fun dates. Their sadness when he found out he was being deployed again. Her tears when she had to hug him goodbye. His promise he’d come back to her.
An IED. Physical pain indescribable until the adrenaline fully hit as he tried to save the others around him. Looking down and realizing his foot was gone. 
Waking up in Germany. Waking up at Walter Reed to her asleep in a chair next to his bed. Surgeries. Moving to a hospital in Pittsburgh. Physical therapy. Depression. Finding his therapist. Her right by his side through it all. A prosthetic. An honorable discharge. Her being more than he could ever deserve as he struggled to adjust.
Medical school. Medical school graduation. The pride in her eyes and how tight she hugged him and her breath against his ear as she whispered how proud she was of him. Residency. 
Him picking out her engagement ring. Planning the proposal. Proposing. Wedding planning during residency. Their whole wedding. Their honeymoon. Their talks of kids and a house in the suburbs. Her saying how she wanted a group of little boys that were all the spitting image of their father. Plans to start trying once he became an attending.
Becoming an attending. Deciding not to actively try but more to just not prevent and see what happened for a bit. The death of her mom hitting her hard and putting the brakes on kids for a bit. Holding her as she cried. Helping her plan a funeral. Things slowly getting better. The death of her dad just a year later understandably obliterating it all. Holding her as she cried again. Helping her plan another funeral. Things slowly getting better again.
Deciding to actively try and track her cycle. An emergency medicine and trauma conference in Vegas. Hugging and kissing her goodbye at the airport. Dreaming of her surprising him with a ‘welcome home daddy’ sign when he got back. 
That phone call from Robby as he laid in his hotel bed reading some materials from one of the presentations. 
Denial. Numbness. Yelling at Robby that this wasn’t even close to a funny joke. The slow realization it was the truth. A drunk driver had taken her from him almost instantly but the driver got to walk away with a couple of bruises and a broken arm.
Robby getting him a ticket on the next plane home. Crying silently in that hotel bed because this couldn’t be real. Finally feeling it and sobbing in an airport bathroom with the sound of slot machines in the background. 
The blur of getting back home and Robby being there. Robby telling him the details of what happened and her injuries after he demanded them through a yell when Robby tried to tell him he didn’t need to know, that it wouldn’t make a difference and would just torture himself. Jack screaming at Robby and blaming him for not saving her when Jack knew based on what Robby told him that she was effectively DOA. That there was no hope of her surviving. That if the paramedics hadn’t happened to recognize her as his wife she almost certainly would’ve been pronounced on the scene and never even brought in. Dana grabbing him in the tightest hug as his screams turned into sobs, choked apologies and thank you for trying-s to Robby and asking what he was supposed to do.
Considering killing himself. Considering killing the driver that hit her and then killing himself. 
Planning her funeral. Seeing her again for the first time in her casket. Feeling a pain so deep and a grief so profound he was sure he would drop dead. Her funeral. Trying to give a eulogy. The dove. Watching her be lowered into the ground. Feeling like the photo of her to the side of her casket was mocking him. Feeling like a piece of shit for feeling that. The celebration of life after. Spending too much time comforting other people as they came up to him and apologized for his loss and talked about her. 
All consuming depression. Not leaving his bed for days. Laying on his side and looking at her pillow and crying because he was looking at her pillow and not her face. Because he’d never look at her face like that again. He’d never have her laying in bed with him again.
Slowly coming out of the depression. Finding a new normal. Deciding to live for her as much as it hurt. Working at the Pitt. Things getting better and life and himself feeling stable. Visiting her grave. The years eventually blurring together as he falls into a routine and goes to work and comes home and listens to the scanner and sleeps and goes back to work again. Some dates and casual flings, brief romances. Nothing serious. They grow fewer and farther between.  
And then Jack hits meeting you and his mind stops. 
The sobs don’t. The way he rocks himself slightly in an attempt to self soothe doesn’t. The choked out apologies to her for everything don’t. The way it feels like he’s right back there, on the day he lost her and the day he saw her in her casket doesn’t. The guilt he suddenly feels for being with you doesn’t. The guilt he feels for his wedding ring falling off and him not noticing while he was doing your dishes, washing your child’s highchair tray doesn’t. The ache that fucking dove and what felt like her blessing put in his heart doesn’t. 
Missing her so badly he can’t breathe doesn’t. But neither does his want and need and affection for you. 
Jack hasn’t cried like this in a good while. Hasn’t felt everything all over again and watched his entire life with her and the aftermath play out in his mind in even longer. And he doesn’t understand, or maybe isn’t letting himself understand, why he feels so sad and so guilty and why he had to replay everything in his mind. Why he’s still fucking sobbing and clutching his ring so hard it’ll take hours if not a full day for the indent it leaves behind to fade. 
Deep down Jack knows it’s a form of processing. He knows his ring coming off is a huge thing for him and he knows that’s okay and that this reaction is okay. He and his therapist have talked at length and repeatedly, especially recently, about his possible reactions to taking it off. But he didn’t really take it off, did he?
His sobs taper off as exhaustion hits and he runs out of tears. But his feelings don’t stop. He’s a storm of emotions, has guilt in every direction possible. He hits that numbness that accompanies exhaustion though and it’s a nice change, not feeling every emotion even as he knows he still has them. His head feels fuzzy and it gets harder to think.
Jack lets his head fall back against the cabinet and closes his eyes. It quickly becomes apparent to him though that if he stays here he’ll fall asleep here. So he forces himself up and to the guest bed, pretty much just flops onto it, head barely hitting a pillow. He looks at his ring for a few seconds before his eyes start to close, curls his hand back around it and brings it back close to heart as he falls into a deep sleep.
He wakes hours later to the sound of crying. It’s not a screaming cry like something is wrong or your son is deeply upset but still. It takes him a minute to come back to fully, to remember what happened, to remember the thing he’s still clutching in his right hand is his wedding ring. Jack rolls onto his back and runs his left hand over his face and through his hair to try and fight off the remnants of sleep. And he feels it of course, the lack of it, no metal ring gliding over his skin. 
As he sits up he opens his hand to look at his ring. He feels so fucking melodramatic now. It’s a ring. She’s been dead for over five years. It should have come off a long time ago. It’s not like he has to get rid of it. He just won’t be wearing it anymore. And yet he can’t let go of all those emotions. 
He goes to grab the baby monitor from the nightstand, vaguely wondering why the volume is turned so low but it’s not there. He’s confused for a minute but then it hits him. He left it by the sink. Your son was so quiet and he was so exhausted when he forced himself off the kitchen floor that he just left it there. So who fucking knows how long your son has been awake and crying. After it processes completely it jolts him awake, has him setting his ring on the nightstand and all but running to your son’s room, berating himself further the entire way. 
Jack cannot believe he did that. Forgot the monitor. Left your son nearly alone effectively. Him crying is bad enough but what if something had happened? What if he had started choking? What if someone had broken in? What if he’s been in there for fucking hours crying so long he’s going to get sick now? What if you’d come home to Jack passed out in bed and your son crying? How could you ever forgive him? Ever trust him again? More guilt surges through him and it’s enough to make him teary again because you trust him with your son and he forgot the monitor and your son is one and won’t understand why nobody came for him. Why Jack didn’t come for him. Why Jack left him in there crying alone. 
“Hi Baby,” Jack calls to your son as he opens the door and flicks the light on. “I’m so sorry Bud. I hope you weren’t in here upset for too long.” Your son starts to calm the second he hears Jack’s voice and sees him, small arms reaching up towards Jack asking to be picked up. The big alligator tears rolling down his face make Jack’s heart ache as he picks him up, chubby hands grabbing at Jack’s shirt while Jack settles him against his chest. 
Jack bounces slightly, cupping the back of your son’s head with the hand not holding him, thumb brushing back and forth soothingly. “I’m so sorry Honey.” He turns his head and kisses your son’s temple a few times. He’s stopped crying, he did pretty much as soon as he was in Jack’s arms, just the occasional sniffles and small hiccupped breaths as he settles back down. “I’ve got you. I’m sorry, I really am, and I’m here now, I’ve got you.” 
He settles into the rocking chair that’s there in the nursery and rocks with your son, presses a few more kisses to his head, breathing in the scent of baby shampoo. It calms him. Jack keeps whispering to your son, that he’s sorry and he’s here and everything’s okay and he’ll never do that again. Jack glances at his watch. It hasn’t actually been that long, really it’s been about the length of time your son usually naps for, so it’s unlikely he was crying for that long, right? Unless today was the day he couldn’t sleep and woke up earlier. There’s no way to know and Jack hates it, can only hope he woke up quickly and as soon as your son started crying. 
Your son rests quietly on his chest, hand playing with Jack’s shirt a bit to keep himself occupied, cooing and babbling to himself a little occasionally. It’s comforting, holding him like this and rocking. Jack knows he’s doing this more to soothe himself than your son who’s pretty much completely unbothered now. 
Jack thinks about what precipitated his passing out without the monitor as he holds your son close, namely his ring and the dove. 
Jack knows it was some kind of sign from her and the universe. The whole thing. He doesn’t care how it sounds. He knows it was her blessing. Her way of telling him she’s happy for him and he should be happy too and not feel guilty. And he wishes his guilt could be erased that easily, by a dove and his ring coming off. But it can’t. And it lingers. And Jack is so glad he has someone who understands and won’t hold it against him. Because he’s sure he won’t be out of this funk by the time you get home.    
Even though he knows you’ll understand and won’t hold it against him he still hates that he’s going to be a bit off with you, especially when you just started your relationship officially yesterday. Yes, you cried into him last night from grief but it feels different. Jack brought up pet names and asked a question specifically about your husband. That made you think of your husband. This is his ring falling off. Something that needed to happen anyway. His reaction could easily make it seem like he’s not ready for this or isn’t fully ready to commit to you and let her go in a way. And he doesn’t want you to think that because it’s not true. He is ready for this, he wants this with you so badly, wants you and he is ready to commit to you. He’s been ready and patiently waiting for you. 
He knows he needs to try and get out of his head. Your son starting to chew on his shirt pulls him out of his thoughts. 
“You hungry, little man? Want a snack? A real one, because my shirt isn’t going to do much for you.” Jack looks down at your son and pulls him away from his chest gently. “No it’s not,” he says in a bit of a baby voice, smiling and shaking his head at your son. “It can’t taste very good either.” 
Your son giggles up at Jack at his voice and the way he shakes his head, hands reach for Jack’s face. Jack playfully takes one of your son’s hands and brings it up, mouths at it and makes fake eating noises just to pull more laughter. Jack releases the hand and brings your son up a little closer, leans into him and kisses at his cheeks dramatically, tickling his face with his stubble and his hand on your son’s tummy. It earns him more pealing laughter and makes him smile widely at your son. He loves making your son laugh, could spend all day making him laugh. He loves making your son happy and hearing your son’s laugh helps him, makes him happier and relax a bit. It’s damn near audible serotonin. 
Your son’s eyes shine and he looks so happy, like Jack’s the best thing in the whole world and Jack doesn’t feel like he deserves it in the moment. But he tries to shove that aside to just focus on your son. Your son seems to love eye contact as much as Jack does so it’s easy to catch his gaze and talk to him softly, earnestly, almost achingly so. “I love you Honey, so so much. I hope you know that.”
And he does. Jack loves your son like he’s Jack’s own. Jack, like you, would walk straight into a burning building and through flames for him, would jump in front of a car for him, anything, without a second thought, he’d just do it. Instinctually. And if, god forbid, something ever happened to your son, Jack would bleed himself dry donating his O- blood to your son if that’s what was needed. 
Your son babbles at him in response, smiling at Jack and laughing while clapping his hands. Jack laughs with him and then sighs contentedly. “Alright, you. Let’s get you changed and then get a snack and text mommy and we’ll figure out the rest after, okay?”
Jack’s quick to get your son changed and out to the kitchen, turning off the monitor where it sits by the sink and shaking his head at himself. He’s nervous about telling you, about your reaction. He’d understand if you didn’t trust him with your son anymore, if it somehow ruined things. He just really hopes you still will trust him and nothing is ruined. He can pretty much assure you he’ll never do it again.
Once he has your son squared away with a snack and some water in his highchair Jack sits at the table next to him and texts you. Not telling you what happened never even crossed his mind. He debates calling you instead but he doesn’t want to interrupt your workday more than he has to.  
J - I’m so so sorry. I fell asleep and accidentally left the monitor in the other room. I woke up to him crying and I have no idea how long he was crying for. He calmed as soon as I picked him up and is okay now. Having a snack and some water. But I totally get if you don’t trust me with him anymore and don’t want me watching him by myself anymore. I’m so sorry
Jack stares at his phone waiting for your reply. He knows you’re at work and busy and it might be a bit before you even see that he texted you let alone have the time to read his message and reply. And he knows you might not even want to reply. He’s just praying that you give him something so he knows that you know what happened. 
You do. You don’t even take that long all things considered, it’s only a minute or so before those three dots appear. 
You - Hey, it’s okay, you have nothing to apologize for. I’ve done the same thing more than once, I promise
You - All that matters is he’s okay. Not surprised he calmed down as soon as you picked him up, he’s so enamored with you! 
You - And of course I still trust you with him. I’ve seen you with him and how aware of him you are and how in tune, so if I had to bet, I’d say he wasn’t crying long at all before it woke you up. And even if he had been crying for a while, it’s okay. I’d still trust you. Like I said, I’ve done it before more than once. It’s just one of those things that happens. Especially if you need a nap just as bad as he does!
Jack lets out a sigh of relief reading your texts. His head is still a fucking mess from everything and he hasn’t forgiven himself for this, he’s just so good at compartmentalizing it’s all in a box on a shelf to deal with later. 
J - Okay. I really am sorry though and I can pretty much guarantee you it won’t happen again
You reply quickly. 
You - It’s really okay, try not to feel bad about it. I know it’s not that easy but just know that I’m not upset or anything 
A few seconds later before Jack can respond there’s another message from you. 
You - You otherwise okay? 
Of course you’d pick up on it and know. Of course you’d worry about him. It makes Jack feel so good to know there’s someone out there who cares about him that much, who he’s that important to in a non-platonic sense. But at the same time part of him hates that he didn’t hide it better, that he’s worrying you and burdening you with himself. 
J - Yeah, just been a day kind of
J - Mentally. Nothing to do with him
He glances up at your son as he waits to see if you reply. “Good stuff?” he laughs, your son having devoured the cheerios Jack gave him. “Want some more?” Your son giggles and claps a bit as Jack pours some more out for him. “You’re the best, you know that Bud?”
You - I’m sorry, Jack. We can talk tonight if you want but don’t have to of course. Just know I’m here for you for whatever. I think I’ll probably be able to leave a little early today too
Jack bites his lip. He doesn’t know if he wants to talk about it, or how much he wants to talk about it. 
J - I know. And okay but don’t rush home on my account 
He sets his phone off to the side and turns his focus back to your son, scooting a bit closer to him. “Oh, thank you,” Jack chuckles when your son offers him a cheerio in his tiny pincer grasp and Jack lets him feed it to him, much to your son’s delight. He does it a few more times and Jack takes every cheerio offered until the two of them have eaten them all. 
Jack takes your son to the living room, sets him down on the floor and gets down to play with him. If you end up being able to leave work a bit early it really won’t be too long before you’re home. 
Playing with your son is a good distraction until it’s not and the walls of the box he’d put everything in start to crumble and all his feelings and guilt from earlier flood his mind. Jack’s at least able to focus on both your son and those feelings at once, not outwardly showing any distress or being off with your son or suddenly less interactive. The feelings just eat away at him inside. The guilt. 
Jack’s not even that aware of time passing until he hears your key in the door. “Hi!” you call out as you walk in and set your stuff down, kick out of your shoes. You’re glad to be home and done with the week and so excited to have a weekend with Jack. You walk into your living room and smile at the sight of Jack and your son on the floor together playing. 
“Hey,” Jack calls back. He lowers his voice as you walk into the room. “Who is that?” he asks your son, “Mommy home?” Your son claps and gets excited, starts to crawl over to you but doesn’t get super far. “How was your day?” 
“Oh you know,” you sigh. “Work.” Jack laughs softly. “How was your guys’ day?” You walk over to pick up your son. He’s still close to Jack and without even being fully conscious of it you run a hand through Jack’s hair affectionately before grabbing your son, picking him up and peppering his face with kisses, cooing at him softly that you missed him and you love him and did he have a good day with Jack.
Jack clears his throat as he stands up and walks over to sit on the couch. “Oh you know,” he repeats your words with a similar sigh, only his has an edge to it that concerns you. “You know.” 
You turn to really look at Jack as he sits on the couch and he hates the way your face drops when you see him. You can tell he cried at some point today and you’re guessing it happened before he fell asleep without the monitor. Your brows furrow together, eyes widening slightly in concern. Jack shakes his head and sighs, ready to apologize for ruining your mood and Friday night. But you speak first. 
“Jack?” You walk over and sit on the couch with your son on your lap near him, but leave a cushion between you in case he wants space. You’re worried about him, quite a lot. You’ve never seen him look this sad and almost lost. “What’s wrong honey?” 
Jack isn’t sure how to even begin to answer because it feels so ridiculous. You’ve had your rings off for a long time. He bets you weren’t like this when you took them off. And even if you were it was so close to when he died and you were pregnant. 
Jack doesn’t know what to say so he doesn’t say anything and just holds up his left hand. Your eyes slowly leave his and move to his hand. It doesn’t take you long to notice. And Jack can see it on your face the second you realize. Your eyes go back to his. 
“You took your wedding ring off.”
Jack brings his hand down and sighs, shaking his head. “I didn’t really take it off so much as it fell off while I was doing the dishes.” He looks down at his hand. “It’s on my nightstand, it didn’t get lost in the pipes or anything. I just…” He shrugs. He wants to look back up at you but he can’t bring himself to for some reason. “I didn’t expect it. I’ve done the dishes for over five years, scrubbed my hands at work and it never came off. But today it did. And the worst part is I didn’t even notice when it did. I didn’t realize it until I was drying my hands.”
You’re quiet as you try to think of what to say, what you would want to hear if you were in Jack’s position. And you’re trying to shove the massive guilt that’s hit you aside because this isn’t about you. This is about Jack. But if he hadn’t been doing your and your son’s dishes his ring wouldn’t have come off. It feels like it’s your fault somehow. 
“I… Jack I’m so sorry you didn’t get to do it on your own terms.” You want to move closer to him, rest your hand on him and squeeze reassuringly or hold his hand. But you’re not sure if he’d want that. “You can put it back on, Jack. If you need to or want to. That’s okay.”
Jack had a feeling you’d say that. And he can see in the way you shift a little that you want to be closer to him but aren’t sure if he’d want that. He’s not really sure either now that you’re talking about what happened and it’s all that’s in his mind again. “No.” He shakes his head. “No, it needed to come off. My therapist and I have talked about it. A lot,” he laughs dryly. He forces himself to look at you. “Especially recently, because it’s not fair to you. For us to be together and me to be wearing her ring-”
You’re shaking your head as he speaks and you have to interrupt him. “It’s not unfair to me Jack. It’s just not about fairness in general. I get it, you know I do.” And you do. But you can’t lie to yourself and say it wouldn’t be a little hard to see him put it back on, date him while he wears her ring. You’d never say that though and you imagine you don’t really have to. That Jack just knows because he can put himself in the same position. “If you’re not ready to have it off Jack, that’s okay. I promise.” And you do promise, because even if he did put it back on you would be okay with it even if it was a little hard. 
“I am. It’s been over five years. It needed to come off, truly. It was time.” You can see his eyes get a little glassy and it makes your heart ache for him. You know he must have sobbed about it and you hate that he was alone. Because you know what it’s like. You know what it’s like to suddenly no longer have your wedding ring on and be alone when it happens. You have no idea if he’d have wanted you around when he did it but at least he could have had the option. “I was thinking about it anyway. I was going to try to do it this weekend.” Jack bites his trembling lip and looks down for a moment before looking back up at you, the tears now visible in his eyes. “I just thought I’d get to do it. That it would be this intentional thing and I could talk to her while I did it, you know?”
You let out a shuddery breath and feel tears prick the back of your eyes. “Yeah,” you whisper, “I know. And I’m so sorry you didn’t get that Jack.”
Jack takes a breath and shrugs at you, all the emotion disappearing from his face for a second leaving him stone faced. “Stop apologizing. You have nothing to apologize for.” Jack’s eyes fall down to your son as he starts to babble and wiggle against you more before Jack can see your slight flinch at his words. His tone was sharper than he meant or realized. Colder. He almost sounded annoyed. 
You swallow hard. Both of you knew there would be some really difficult moments during your relationship. Days where the grief was all-consuming and the guilt eating you alive. You just didn’t expect one quite this early on while things are still so new. It’s okay that it is one, just unexpected. “Okay, I’m-” You stop yourself before you apologize again and Jack knows it, looks up at you and gives you the smallest amused smile. It falls quickly though when he sees how upset you are. He hates that he’s the cause. “I, you, um,” you let out a breath, “you’re of course welcome to stay here, always Jack, I hope you know that. And I’m here for you and this if that’s what you need. If you want to talk about, or be close or whatever it is that would help you. I don’t want it to sound like I want you to leave. Of course I’d like you to be here but more than that I want whatever you need and is best for you. I just, it’s also okay if you need to go home, Jack. Be alone and have some time to yourself. Time with her. Go visit her, maybe, if you think that would help.”
You look down at your son while you give Jack time to think, shift him on your lap a little and bounce him on your legs, earning you some squealing laughter. 
“Maybe,” Jack finally says. “I don’t know.” He’s not sure what would be better. The thought of being home and alone with his thoughts sounds awful. But maybe some of the guilt would pass if he wasn’t here with you as terrible as he knows that sounds and is. He doesn’t know. His brain just doesn’t know. He’s paralyzed in a way he hasn’t been in a long time. 
“That’s okay, it’s okay to not know.” You glance around the room as you keep bouncing your knees for your son. You’re trying to think of anything that might help him. Emotionally or just help him figure out what he wants and needs. “He and I can go into my room and give you some space, or go take a walk if that would help?”
Jack shakes his head, frowning at the ideas. “No. This is your house. I’m not confining you to a room in your own house or making you leave.”
“You’re not making me do anything Jack, I’m offering.”
“No.” He’s firm in his answer. “Maybe,” he swallows hard, “maybe I should go for a walk.” He’s not sure if being alone with his thoughts is a good idea but maybe a walk would at least clear his mind a bit. But he also feels bad about it, like he’s just leaving you as soon as he’s struggling with grief. He knows it’s a little more than just normal struggling, but still. He doesn’t want to be that guy, doesn’t want you to feel like you don’t help or he doesn’t want your comfort. 
You’re quiet for a moment, looking down at your son and pulling him up when he wants to stand and bounce on your legs. He’s getting close to walking. You’re not upset that Jack wants to leave and needs space, you’re not sad or hurt. It’s not that. You’re worried because you know how hard it is. How one thing in particular can seem like the best answer.
“Jack,” you whisper, force yourself to look at him so he understands your question. “Are you going to come back?” He nods. Jack understands what your question means. Is he suicidal. He hadn’t even thought about it really. It hadn’t crossed his mind as something to do now, largely, he thinks, because he has you and your son. But Jack hates the fact that he made you worry like that. About losing someone else. “Because you really need to come back, Jack.” You’re still whispering. “Even if it’s not to me.” 
Somehow Jack’s heart breaks a little more. “Hey,” he says softly, tilting his head at you. He reaches out and rests a hand just above your knee. “I didn’t even think about that. I’m going to come back, Sweetheart. To you.” He squeezes your thigh as he speaks, hoping his touch and the honesty he’s trying to project through his eyes will reassure you. “I think I should just try a walk and see if it clears my head or helps me decide what I want to do.”
You nod at him. “Okay. I hope it’ll help.” Jack nods at you and you let out a small breath as he gets up and makes his way to the front door. “Just, um, take your phone? Please. And be safe.” 
Jack smiles at you, lets out the softest laugh through his nose. “I’ve got it, yeah. And I will be.” He turns and rests a hand on the door handle but then turns back to you. “I don’t want you to think this means I’m not ready, or that I can’t be in a relationship with you. Because it doesn’t. I just didn’t expect it and-”
“Hey,” you cut him off gently, “I think a really big and meaningful thing on the grieving the loss of a spouse, I don’t know, checklist, for lack of a better word, happened unexpectedly today and so you’re having a really bad grief day. That’s okay. Those days will happen for both of us. And if on your walk you realize you aren’t ready or can’t be in a relationship with me that’s okay too.”
“I won’t.” He shakes his head. “Because even with all these thoughts and feelings and whatever else right now I feel ready and I want to be in a relationship with you. I just need to try and work it out in my head.” Jack takes in a shuddery breath. He feels like such an asshole for doing this to you. “I’m sorry for dumping all of this and then running.”
“You have nothing to apologize for, Jack. I don’t feel like you’re dumping anything. Or like you’re running.” You give him a small smile. “You’re taking a walk to clear your head. That’s healthy.”
“I’ll be back tonight. Even if I decide I need to spend some time at my place, okay?”
You nod at him and he turns back and opens the door, stepping out and locking it behind him so you don’t have to get up. You straighten out on the couch so that you’re facing the TV, holding your son close just like Jack did earlier in the day but letting him stay standing on your legs. 
You hate yourself for it but you start crying. Of course you start crying. You feel like you’re totally usurping Jack’s grief and feelings or using them and him somehow but you can’t stop the tears even as your son bounces on you and giggles. They’re not even for yourself, not really. They’re for Jack and how fucking badly you know he’s hurting right now, how much he’s missing her, how guilty in every way he’s feeling, how conflicted he is. Because you’ve been there since you met him. More than once. And you understand. You know your situations aren’t identical and you’d never say you understand perfectly or completely know what he’s going through but on a fairly deep level you understand. You know the emotions and how easily they can swallow you. You cry because you care so much about Jack and hate that he’s hurting and that you can’t do anything to make it better. 
Jack has no idea where he’s walking to. He considered your suggestion for a moment, going to see her. He knows that’s a kind of fucked up luxury he has. He can just go and visit her whenever he wants. You can’t go visit your husband easily like that. He’s in Arlington, a four hour drive away. And he knows you love that and are glad he’s honored there but he’s sure it hurts at times. It’s actually one piece of this he really can’t imagine. He can’t imagine not being able to go see her whenever he wanted.
But Jack decides visiting her right now doesn’t quite feel right. So he just walks. And walks. And walks. It all runs through his head again. Every emotion and feeling and scrap of guilt. He’s not even really fully aware of the conversation he’s having with himself in his head, of how he’s trying to process. He just doesn’t fight anything and lets it happen.
He’s so completely in his head and on auto-pilot that Jack doesn’t even know where he is or how he got here when he stops walking as he hits the entrance to a park. It kind of freaks him out how he doesn’t remember walking here but he just rolls with it, walks into the park and along the trail until he spots a bench a little off the path near some bushes. 
More than anything at this point, Jack finds himself struggling with the guilt. He feels guilty for doing this to you. For dropping this big emotional thing on you that clearly upset you for him and just leaving. For making you wonder if he was going to come back or if you’d never see him again and be stuck with another loss and cleaning out his clothes and belongings that are at your place just like you had to with your husband’s. For scaring you like that. For forgetting the monitor and letting your son cry. 
He knows that in some sense this guilt will be easier to let go. That it really will fade almost completely with time because he can spend time with you. He can apologize and reassure you. You guys can make new happy and fun memories, smile and laugh together.
Jack knows that’s not true for the rest of his guilt. His guilt for not noticing his ring coming off. For not putting it back on. For letting that piece of her go. His guilt for moving on with you even when he knows that’s what she would want, is what he would want for her. And he thought about that each time he was deployed and made her a video just in case he didn’t come back. He always told her. Grieve and then find someone else to share your life with and be happy with. He wanted that for her. But now that he’s here having to be the one to do it, it feels like some form of betrayal in a way. How could he possibly ever get over her? Jack knows it’s not really about getting over. Because he couldn’t really, in the same way you could never truly get over your husband. It’s not a breakup. Nobody chose to end the relationship. It was ripped away. 
But he knows it’s not betrayal. He knows that being with you, falling in love with you, doesn’t mean he doesn’t love her anymore, doesn’t diminish how much he loves her. Doesn’t make her some figure in his past that he’ll slowly come to think of less and less until he forgets her. He could never forget her and a part of him will always love her. He doesn’t think he could go a single day without thinking of her even if only for a second. And Jack knows that you would never let him. That if the day came where he started losing his memory that you’d be right by his side with pictures of the two of you and your family together but also with pictures of her and her and him together, tell him all the stories he’s told you about her. 
He knows it’s not betrayal and this is what she would want but it’s so fucking hard at times. He wishes he could just call her. Or that she had left a video telling him to grieve and find someone else. Maybe hearing it directly from her would help. But he can’t and she didn’t. All he has is a dove on your windowsill and while it feels so strongly like a sign and her blessing it’s hard to hold onto that belief at times. 
Jack lets out a long breath and closes his eyes, tips his head back and feels what’s left of the heat from the sun and the slight breeze across his face. He should head back soon so he doesn’t get back after dark. Or at least text you that he’s okay and still walking if it does get dark. But he still doesn’t know what to do. Doesn’t know what he needs. Whether to go back to his house for the night or even the weekend. 
He thinks he’s having an auditory hallucination when he first hears it. That coo of a dove. Jack opens his eyes slowly and brings his head back down. And sure enough there on the opposite end of the bench is a mourning dove. He gives a short laugh of disbelief. So he’s having a visual hallucination too, great. Because this can’t be real. And it especially can’t be real when the dove moves and Jack recognizes it as the same one that was on the windowsill. That line of black feathers just above one of its eyes too unique to be a different bird. 
But then a kid who must be four or five yells “Look mommy! A bird!” as they point to the bench. The kid’s mom looks over and nods, says something Jack can’t hear to her daughter. 
Jack tells himself to be relieved that he’s not hallucinating. But it just feels like too much, in every sense. It’s too perfect to be true and mean anything. But it’s also way too coincidental and on point to mean nothing. Right? 
The dove gives a soft coo and then tilts its head to one side as it looks at Jack, eyes almost squinting. He swears it’s a really? look that he’s given Robby a thousand times. Like really the dove had to come find him again to give him the same message. So maybe he is hallucinating. Might as well go full send then. “I’m not convinced that you’re not some very realistic fucking animatronic dove Robby’s controlling off in some fucking bush to try and help me,” Jack huffs and rolls his eyes, doesn’t believe a word of what he’s saying but still.
He can’t believe he’s actually fucking talking to the dove now. Joking with it. He has to laugh at himself and the dove coos a few times as he does, ruffling its feathers again. Jack rubs his face with his hands and shakes his head before looking back at the dove. He bites his lip when he feels that pressure behind his eyes. He won’t cry. Not with this dove. That’s the line. That has to be the fucking line. 
Jack and the dove just look at each other for a few minutes. Maybe it’s true, likely it’s Jack forcing himself to believe it, but it feels like sitting in her presence. He presses his lips in a line as they tremble slightly. “Yeah?” It’s a loaded question. 
He can’t believe he actually just asked that out loud. To the dove. The random bird in a park on a bench. Like it really means something. Like it’s actually her. But Jack wants to believe it is. He wants that comfort. Wants that sign. And he tells himself that’s okay. That it’s human. That humans have been looking for and seeing signs in all sorts of things forever. Jack needs to believe in this. And so he gives himself this and lets himself believe.
The dove coos back at him once. Jack smiles and shakes his head. After a few more coos at Jack the dove flies off. He watches it fly off, laughing as a few tears leak out of his eyes. He brings his head back down and rests his elbows on his knees, holds his face in his hand for a second and gives himself a single muffled sob through his laughter. Because the dove isn’t here now. He’s not crying with the dove. 
He wants to tell you. Jack needs to tell you. And maybe you’ll think he’s totally off the fucking rocker and break it off and that’ll be the real sign. He has a feeling you won’t though. 
Jack wipes his eyes and sniffles and then stands up. He walked on auto-pilot for so long that he actually has to use his phone to get directions to point him in the direction of your place. He feels much better, as kind of crazy as that fact makes him feel. He’ll stay at yours tonight. The whole weekend if you’ll let him. 
Eventually you force yourself to get up. The tears have at least lessened if not stopped completely. You take your son into your room with you and set him on the floor for a second while you change quickly. You don’t know what to do with yourself. Taking a walk with your son crosses your mind but you don’t want to accidentally run into Jack and have him feel like you’re stalking him or can’t give him space. You’re just restless. 
You could go to the park a few blocks up. You doubt Jack is going to go there if he’s taking a walk, it’s not a huge park you can really walk through. But still. You shouldn’t risk it. You sigh and pick your son up, head back to the living room and get down on the floor to play with him like Jack was. You feel like a terrible mother for not giving your son your full attention since you’ve been home so you do your best to go completely into mom mode and forget about everything but your son. 
Two or so hours pass and Jack still isn’t back. You head to the kitchen and put your son in his highchair, get some dinner ready for him. You consider making something for yourself and maybe Jack but you’re not even remotely hungry. You’re vaguely nauseous if anything. But at least the tears have truly stopped and you put in some eyedrops so your eyes hopefully won’t completely give you away when you see Jack again. You don’t want him to feel like you’re taking his trauma and struggle for yourself. 
You’re helping your son eat dinner when you hear the lock turn over and your front door open. It makes your heart rate pick up quite noticeably. You have no idea if the walk will have helped at all, if he’s going to just run in to tell you he’s leaving for tonight or the weekend or forever. Because you can’t help but catastrophize. You don’t even know whether to call out a greeting. But when he doesn’t offer one as he locks the door behind him you figure you shouldn’t either. 
“Hey,” Jack greets you as he walks into the kitchen, kissing the top of your head as he walks by before doing the same to your son who squeals in excitement at seeing Jack. He sounds much better. Happier.
You freeze for a second. It’s not what you expected so it catches you a little off guard. “Hey,” you reply, tracking Jack as he sits down at the table across from you, baby at the end in the middle. He looks lighter. He’s been crying at least a little but he looks lighter and happier and like he found some answers and worked things out and is almost at peace. It gives you whiplash for a few seconds before Jack’s eyes leave your son and turn back to you, that intense gaze of his helping to ground you. He flashes you one of those smiles of his that gives you butterflies. “The walk helped I take it?”
“It did,” he nods at you, still smiling. “Well, actually, it wasn’t really the walk, it was a bird.”
You raise your eyebrows and smile back at him, confusion ghosting your features. “A bird?”
“A bird,” he confirms. “The whole thing is going to sound insane, and like I said yesterday, if you want to kick me out forever at the end I’ll get it. And I’m sorry.” Jack softens a little. “I know you’re going to say don’t be, but I am.”
“And like I said yesterday I very much doubt that’s how I’ll react.” You give him a small smile and turn to help your son finish his dinner. “And you’re right, I’m going to say don’t be sorry because you have nothing to be sorry for. You didn’t do anything to be sorry for.” You glance over at him with a knowing smile. 
“Still am,” he teases and you roll your eyes affectionately. “What do you want to order for dinner?”
You laugh a little. “How do you know I didn’t make myself something and eat already?” 
Jack doesn’t miss a beat. “You never eat when you’re stressed or worried or anxious.” He shrugs. “It worries me sometimes.”
“I-” you start, but have to stop. He’s right. You never eat when you’re stressed. The fact that he cares about you enough to have noticed and have it worry him isn’t missed by your brain and it makes you feel warm all over.
“You know I’m right.” Jack smirks at you. 
“Doesn’t mean I have to like it,” you grumble at him, but have to smile at the sound of his soft laugh. You help your son finish the last bite of his dinner and shrug at Jack. “I don’t know. Whatever you want. Nothing sounds particularly good or bad.” You stand up and grab a pack of baby wipes, start using one to clean your son’s face. 
“I’ve got it, you grab him,” Jack murmurs once your son is clean. 
“No, you take him. You already washed all of this once today. I’ve got it this time.” You turn your attention to your son. “And you want to go see Jack, don’t you Baby?” Your son laughs, holds his arms up and makes grabby hands at both of you really, looking between you and Jack, but eventually settling on Jack. “You really going to tell that face no?” You click your tongue at Jack. 
“I could never,” Jack hums as he picks your son up. “And he knows it.” He bounces your son in his arms a little, smiling at him and making faces. He glances over at you as he does. “Nauseous?” 
You pause before setting the tray in the sink and starting to wash it. You don’t know why you’re surprised. The man clearly knows you and he’s a doctor. There’s probably some outward physical symptoms you were displaying. “A little,” you simper at him, “but it’s passing.” 
“Good.” Jack sits back down with your son and orders something quickly, the lightest of your favorite dishes. “Food’ll be here in twenty.” 
“You didn’t have to do that Jack.” You shoot him a look from the sink. 
“Wanted to.” You shake your head at him with a little smile and bite of your lip as Jack adjusts your son to bounce on him. “Honestly, I had this whole little cooking lesson date at home idea where he and I were going to go pick up ingredients and then when you got home we’d cook and I’d show you things and wear him or he’d chill in his highchair and then… my ring fell off and kind of derailed everything.” The end of the sentence is much quieter than the beginning. 
You look at Jack as you finish drying the tray and set it on the counter. He’s still focused on your son. As much as he’s feeling better he clearly still has some stuff lingering under the surface. “That’s a very sweet idea. I’m sure we can do it someday soon.”
“Yeah.” He nods and glances at you, gives you an uncharacteristically shy smile. “Anyway, I figure once the food is here and we’ve eaten and put him down for the night we could talk? And I could tell you about the bird. A dove, specifically.” 
“I’d like that.” You nod at him and drape the dish towel back over the oven handle and go back and sit across from your boys at the table. “A mourning dove?”
“Mhmm.” Jack confirms, making a face at your son and then tickling his tummy. They’re common enough that he’s not surprised you guessed it.
“Your wife’s favorite,” you say softly, giving Jack an understanding smile when he looks up at you. 
Jack blinks at you for a solid thirty seconds. It strikes him that you said it. As in you didn’t ask it. You said it because you know it’s true. You know they’re her favorite. He must have talked about it once and you remembered. You remembered. “Yeah.” Jack nods, a little dazed. 
Your smile widens a little. “You’re not the only one who notices and remembers things Sweetheart,” you tease him lightly. 
Jack huffs a laugh and rolls his eyes playfully, but his smile makes clear how he really feels. How touched he is. The two of you chat for a bit until the food arrives. Once it does you eat at the table together, your son happy to hang out in his highchair next to you both. You get him down for the night while Jack clears the table and wipes it down. And then you meet him on the couch. 
You pause for a second, unsure of where you should sit. As of late you and Jack have been sitting side by side on the couch and so normally you would just take the seat next to him and not think about it. But you’re not sure where he’s at tonight, if he wants you that close. 
He pats the seat next to him. “Here, please. If you want. It’s okay if you don’t.” 
“No, I do,” you nod as you walk over and sit next to him, put the monitor on the coffee table, “I just wasn’t sure where you were with it tonight.” 
“I appreciate you thinking about it, but I’d like you close. I like having you close.” 
“I, I like having you close too,” you admit with a shy smile and slightly lowered head. You both shift on the couch so that you’re slightly angled and can see each other.
 “I’m going to preface this all by saying I know how crazy and ridiculous some of this is going to sound. But I just… want to believe it. Need to. So I’m trying to let myself. And maybe that’s not the healthiest way to deal with everything, but I can try and figure that out with my therapist later.” You nod and give him an encouraging smile. 
And so Jack begins. He starts with what happened with his ring, finding it. He spells out all of the emotions and guilt and feelings he’s had throughout the day. There are tears from him, moments where you pull him close and let him cry into your neck and chest while you rub his back and kiss his curls. You reassure him at the right times, express your understanding of his feelings and especially of a lot of the guilt. 
Then he finally moves to the dove. He tells you about both instances, at the windowsill and the park and you listen, nod at times and smile. You don’t look at him like he’s crazy or like you’re just putting up with this until he stops talking and you can free yourself. You squeeze his hand and laugh with him when he does. 
Jack shrugs at the end. Even though your reaction has been nothing but positive as you listened he’s still worried about what you’ll have to say. Still feels exceptionally vulnerable. “So, yeah. That’s the story of the bird I guess,” he laughs weakly, clearly somewhat embarrassed. He squeezes your hand that he’s holding to tell you he’s ready to hear what you have to say.
“Oh Jack,” you sigh, squeezing his hand back. His heart races a little faster. He’s not sure what to make of your sigh. “I don’t think there’s any part of that story, of anything you just told me, that’s crazy or ridiculous or insane.” 
Jack lets out a long breath. “Thank you,” he whispers. 
“Nothing to thank me for Sweetheart, I’m being honest with you. That’s what I think.”
“No I know, but…” Jack trails off, not really sure where he wanted to take that sentence. 
“I know.” You nod at him for a second. Now that you have that out there and Jack has relaxed you take a minute to gather your thoughts. Jack can tell it’s what you’re doing by the look in your eye as you keep your eyes fixed on a spot on the wall. Once you have a rough idea of what you want to say you look back at him. “I think it’s like you said Jack. Humans search for meaning and signs in everything. It’s normal. Especially in this context. And I think that if that wasn’t a sign from her then nobody in history has ever truly received a sign from anybody or anything because what happened with that dove was, I don’t even know how to describe it. Intense? Overly coincidental? I guess I don’t know how anyone could have that happen and think it meant nothing and was just two random things that happened at a very specific time with no significance.”
“Okay, good. I’m glad it wasn’t just me.” Jack lets out a bit of a groaned laugh and runs a hand through his hair. 
“Even if it was Jack, who the fuck cares? The only thing that matters is what it meant to you. How it made you feel. What you believe it is. Everyone else’s and the world’s opinions on it are irrelevant. Even mine. To be clear I’m with you on this, I promise. I’m just saying. Nobody but you will ever truly understand what all of that felt like so who is anyone to judge or tell you that your interpretation is wrong?” You shrug at him like it’s so simple. 
And in a way Jack guesses that it is. Because you’re right. Nobody else could ever truly understand. Not even you. “Yeah. I guess I was busy judging myself on behalf of the world about it and never really thought about it like that.” He tilts his head at you. “I’m really glad you don’t think I’m weird for it and that you understand. And uh,” he looks down and grows quieter, almost nervous, “we’re okay, right?” You know he’s asking if you still consider the two of you to be together, a couple.
You smile at him, lean in and press a lingering kiss to his forehead. “We’re more than okay, Jack,” you whisper against his skin, press another quick kiss there and pull back. 
“Good,” he breathes. You look at each other in a comfortable silence for a minute. “Have you,” Jack pauses and debates whether to finish his question. “Have you ever had something like that happen to you? You don’t have to answer either. I just wondered.” 
You raise your eyebrows. “Oh, well, I, um, yes. But not quite in the same way? I don’t know. He…” You look down at your lap and laugh softly to yourself before looking back up at Jack. “My husband, he used to give me daisies. All the time, for everything. Every big thing, anniversaries, birthdays, sometimes just because. Before we started dating I must have mentioned it once and so he actually showed up to our first date with a little bouquet of them, it was very sweet. I actually pressed one of them and have it still. Anyway, after I gave birth, when I was in the hospital I had ended up telling the nurses about him and what happened, and my doctor already knew. They felt bad, obviously, and so because I didn’t really have anyone to celebrate with they all went in on getting me some nice flowers.” You let out a bit of a shuddery breath, eyes a little glassy as you think back on the memory.
“It was a bouquet of daisies,” Jack murmurs. 
You smile at him and nod. “It was a bouquet of daisies,” you confirm. “And I asked the nurse who brought them in if there was a reason for daisies and she said when she went to buy them they just kind of called to her.” You shrug. “So, it’s not quite the same, but in the moment and even now I like to believe that he was somehow behind it and was there with us.”
As much as the memory warms Jack’s heart, parts of it break it too. He still hates the thought of you not having anyone, not having any support during labor and birth and after. Hates how your husband’s death was still pretty fresh for you. He can’t even begin to imagine. “I think he was,” Jack nods, reaching out and taking your hand, hoping it gives you some comfort and doesn’t feel weird. “Both behind it and there with you.”
“Thank you.” You nod at him. “Now whenever I see them I think of him, tell myself he’s saying hi.”
Jack nods and gives you a gentle smile. “He is.” 
After a few seconds you and Jack both shift at the same time, lean in and hug each other. “Thank you for trusting me with all of that. The story and your feelings. I’m really glad she helped you find some peace. I would be regardless of what it was about.”
“Thank you for listening and trusting me with the daisies.” He turns his head and presses a kiss to your temple. 
Neither of you have to say anything else. You both get it, understand exactly what it meant to the other and for the two of you as a couple. You settle against Jack a bit once you break the hug.  
The mood is still a little somber. You guess that’s how you would describe it. You tilt your head and pull it back a little, give Jack a small smirk and try to help pick the mood up. You hope it doesn’t backfire. “You want me to ask Robby the first time I meet him if he has a very realistic animatronic mourning dove that he follows you around with?” 
“Please!” Jack snorts a laugh, “I would love to see his coughed out ‘excuse me?’ and his panicked and concerned eyes looking at me for a second before he gives you the actual fucking nicest, ‘no, I can’t say that I do,’ while internally trying to figure out how he’s going to casually pull me aside nicely ask me ‘what the fuck?’”
You giggle with him as Jack laughs at the thought. “You know I could never, right? I’m way too shy and socially awkward around people I don’t know to do that.”
Jack laughs as he nods. He lets his laughter trail off and grows a touch more serious, the smile he’s giving you dripping with the adoration and affection and gratefulness he has for you. “I do know that, yes, it’s something I lo-” Jack catches himself, “really like about you.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jack is right. Kind of. He doesn’t have to tell Dana and Robby. But they don’t even have to ask to know. Just looking at him is enough. 
“Did Dr. Abbot get divorced?” Trinity poses the question to the group at the hub. 
Nobody answers for a moment. Half the people there don’t know and the other half don’t really want to spread Jack’s business. 
Robby can feel the eyes of the half of the group that doesn’t know on him. He slowly raises his head and shoots them all a don’t gossip look. “No.” He looks at her a little longer. “What prompted that question?” 
Trinity shrugs. “He just used to wear a wedding ring and isn’t now.” 
The iPad in Robby’s hands drops the few inches to the counter as he spins to look at Jack, who apparently just arrived and is speaking with Dana. 
“You have a good weekend?” Dana asks as she looks at Jack over her glasses with a knowing smile. 
“I did, thank you Dana,” he says a little saccharinely. “Did you? Or did you have to work?”
“No I had it off. It was fine. Didn’t do much.” She tries to keep it casual but Jack can see right through it and it almost makes him laugh as he sets his phone on the counter and grabs a few things out of his backpack and puts them in his pockets. “What about you? Do anything fun?” 
You text him and when it wakes his phone Dana’s fast enough to glance down and see his new wallpaper. A photo of the three of you. She keeps her head down as she smiles to herself. 
“I did yeah.” Jack doesn’t offer anything more much to her apparent chagrin. She clocks his ringless left hand when he picks up his phone, her eyes widening and mouth dropping open for a second before she closes it and looks back up at him. Jack looks at her. He knows she knows. “I’m going to put my stuff away now.” 
“Yeah, okay.” She nods at him, watching him walk towards the lockers. Once he’s out of sight she spins. “Robby!” She flicks her head to beckon him and walks away from the hub in the middle of the floor. 
“He’s not wearing his ring.” Robby whispers. 
“I know. And his phone’s wallpaper is a picture of the three of them.” Dana nudges his arm as she says it. 
“Really?”
“Mhmm. Something must have happened.” Dana pauses and glances over Robby’s shoulder to see if Jack is walking back to the floor yet. “He said he had a good weekend and did something fun but he didn’t give any other details.” 
“He’s gonna have to figure out something to say to everyone because Santos already asked if he got divorced because he’s not wearing his ring.” Robby gives Dana a look. They both know Jack is private by nature, but that at the same time he would absolutely hate people thinking he got a divorce. 
“He is.” She nods. “You think we can get him to talk?” She moves her chin subtly to point where Jack is walking back on the floor. 
Robby shakes his head slightly. “I don’t know.” The two turn their attention to Jack, watching as he starts walking to the hub.
He can feel their eyes on him. And they’re not exactly subtle or trying to hide it. He looks at them for a second and stops walking.
Jack sighs before turning and walking into the breakroom. As much as he acts annoyed about it he really does kind of like it. He likes having two people he trusts to talk to you about and show you off to. 
He crosses his arms over his chest as Dana and Robby walk in. “Can I help the two of you?” They both just raise their eyebrows at him. “Aren’t you both off? Go home.” 
“Can’t.” Robby shakes his head and clicks his tongue at Jack. “Haven’t run the board with you yet.” 
Jack scoffs. “Then let’s go fucking run it.” He takes a couple of steps forward. 
“So it led to more?” Dana finally asks, getting Jack to stop walking and cross his arms back over his chest. 
Jack looks at her stoically. “Does it matter to the two of you?” 
“Ha!” Robby laughs. “Yeah it matters Jack! You’re not wearing your ring! It’s been over five years and you haven’t taken it off and now you have her in your life and it comes off? It absolutely matters. She matters! She’s important!”
There’s a little pang for Jack when Robby mentions his ring and his lips turn down for just a split second, but both Robby and Dana catch it. “I didn’t ask if she mattered or if it mattered generally. I asked if it mattered specifically to the two of you.” 
“It does Jack!” Dana smiles at him. “Like I said before, we want to see you happy and support you.”
Jack looks at the two of them for a second before taking a deep breath and settling his hands on his hips. “Yes, if you must know, there’s more than just friendship now.” He can’t fight off the smile that pulls onto his face as he says it. Nor does he really want to.
“Oh yeah?” Dana’s smile grows and she raises her eyebrows at him. 
“Are you like together?” Robby asks. “Like is she your girlfriend? Or is it like the dating stage before you make it official?” 
“Oh my god,” Jack mutters, shaking his head and looking away from them. “Yes, we’re together and she’s my girlfriend, okay?”
“Since when?” Dana beams at him. Jack knows how happy she is for him, knows she and Robby have seen him at his lowest and truly do just want him to be happy and are excited for him and care and are accordingly being affectionately nosey. 
“Really?” Jack sighs. 
“Has to be pretty recent, we’d have noticed otherwise,” Robby says to Dana. 
“Really, I guess,” Jack mutters to himself. “Thursday night, okay? Thursday night.”
“So I’m guessing you haven’t been out on a real date yet,” Dana hums at him. “It’s important to go on dates without the baby. Real dates.” 
“Yes, I know, thank you.” Jack gives her an exaggeratedly annoyed smile. 
“And do romantic things,” Robby adds.
“I do romantic things! I know to do them! I-” Jack huffs and shakes his head. “What the fuck even is this? I don’t need dating or relationship advice! And we’ve been together all of five days, can we all slow the fuck down?”
“Listen,” Dana starts. “I’m just saying. I’ve been in the baby phase before and I know I was married, but it can be easy to fall into a routine and always have him with you. So if you guys ever need a sitter, I’m more than happy to do that for you, okay?”
“I would be happy to as well,” Robby offers. 
Jack nods at them both as he considers. “Yeah, I kind of like that. The idea of his sitter being a medical professional. And I’ve thought about it before. How the two of you would be my preferred sitters. But,” he shrugs at them, trying a little too hard to look uneffected, “he’s not my kid, so it’s not my decision.” 
“For some reason I think she’d take your opinion into consideration pretty seriously.” Dana smirks at him. 
“This would, you know, require us meeting her,” Robby teases him. 
Jack stares at him. “Thank you for that very helpful insight Michael.” 
“I’m just saying.” Robby smirks a little and shrugs at Jack. 
“Yes,” Jack sings the word a little, “she would like to meet you both. We’ll get it set up. Figure out something to do.”
“Good.” Dana nods approvingly. “We’ll be on our best behavior to convince her to let us babysit for you guys. Won’t we Robinavitch?” 
“Why’d you say it like that?” Robby looks at her with mock offense. “Of course I will be.” 
“She’s going to like you.” Jack rolls his eyes at the two of them. “She’s shy though, has some social anxiety. So if she’s quiet and seems a bit reserved it’s just because she’s shy and it has nothing to do with you guys. She opens up more as she gets comfortable but she’s just quiet by nature. So it’s different.” He nods at both of them. They both know what he means. That you’re not extroverted like his wife. That you’re kind of the polar opposite in a way. Jack clears his throat. “Now is there any other part of my relationship you’d like to plan or be involved in? You wanna actually plan the dates too?” Jack asks pointedly, though there’s enough of a ghost of a smile on his face for the two to know he’s not actually mad.
There’s silence for a few seconds but then Robby apparently just can’t help himself. “You have condoms? You should keep one in your wa-”
“Robby!” Dana lightly smacks his arm with the papers she’s holding as Jack glares at Robby with a set face. “Really? Even for you!” Dana shakes her head at him, but it’s quite obvious to Jack she’s biting down a smile. And when she turns back to look at Jack she gives him the quickest flash of a he’s right though look. 
“What? I just like fucking with him sometimes!” Robby half laughs as he twists and moves his body away from Dana and her papers. He looks back at Jack. 
Once he and Robby have locked eyes Jack speaks. “I’m going to give Myrna your home address,” he deadpans so stone faced and stoically he can see Robby have the quickest flash of worry that he might actually do it.
“Oh come on I was joking!” Robby holds his hands out to his side. After a beat he gives the smallest shrug and lowers his voice. “Kind of.” 
“See,” Jack looks at Dana and waves towards Robby, “and I was going to offer to show you guys pictures and then Michael had to open his fucking mouth.”
“Woah woah woah!” Dana shakes her head and moves closer to Jack, holding her hands up in acquiescence. “Don’t punish me for his bullshit! I didn’t say anything. I just volunteered to babysit!”
Robby scoffs loudly. “Thank you Dana, for the solidarity. I’m really feeling it right now.”
“I actually do genuinely appreciate you offering, Dana. We may take you up on that soon. But she’s not going to let you do it for free,” Jack tells her in a much softer voice. He pulls his phone out and starts pulling up some photos to show her. 
“I can babysit too!” Robby offers. “I’m also a medical professional you know!” 
Jack flicks his eyes up to look at Robby, stone faced again. “That’s debatable.” 
“I made one joke! After being so supportive-”
“Shut up and get over here to look,” Jack cuts him off with a slight cock of his head to tell Robby he’s just fucking with him back and not actually upset. “And yes, we might ask you to babysit one day too.”
Jack brings up a few random photos of your son that he’s taken over the months while watching him, a few of him and your son. “God, he is just too fuckin cute,” Dana laughs. 
“The cutest.” Jack smiles fondly as he looks at your son. 
He brings up a few more of your son, a couple of you and your son. Then he hits Thursday. 
“This was on Thursday. It was his first birthday. We took him to the zoo.” Jack laughs softly as he looks at the photos. “He loves animals.” He offers his phone to Dana. “You can go through.” 
Dana does, her and Robby laughing sweetly at some of them and awing at others. She stops on a photo of a three of you that you’d had someone take. “Oh Jack,” Dana coos, “you guys look so happy. All three of you.” 
“Yeah.” Robby nods, smiles to himself. “And that little boy loves you.”
Jack flushes at that. He’s not really sure why but it makes him a little emotional. He watches as Dana flicks through some more photos. “He’s a year old, he’s hit the stage of liking anyone who gives him attention.” He has no idea why he’s downplaying it like he doesn’t absolutely fucking love the fact that your son loves him.
Jack doesn’t have to see Robby to know he’s rolling his eyes. It’s clear in his voice. “That is so not true Jack. And he loved you that first time we met him.” 
“He’s right,” Dana agrees, “babies can be pretty good judges of character. They’ll stay away from and cry around people they don’t like. And he did love you when we met. So just accept the boy loves you.” 
Jack just hums in response. It makes him smile though. He loves your son too. “And she’s beautiful, Jack. You can tell you make her happy.” Dana looks away from the phone and at Jack. 
“Yeah,” he murmurs, smiling as he looks down at you, “she makes me happy too.”
Dana and Robby share a look. “You know she’d be really happy for you Jack,” Robby says softly, talking about Jack’s wife. “She would want this for you.” 
“He’s right again,” Dana whispers, leaning into Jack and wrapping an arm around him and giving him his phone back. 
Jack leans into her in a silent thank you. “Two times in one day,” he says quietly, “someone better mark it on the calendar.” Robby huffs at him but Jack looks up and smirks at him for a second before giving Robby a genuine, slightly emotional smile and tipping his head at him. “Thank you, Robby.” Robby returns Jack’s smile with an identical one of his own. “And thank you,” he tells Dana as he bumps into her and returns her half hug. “Can we go run the board now?” 
“I think we can,” Robby nods, clapping Jack on the shoulder as they walk towards the door. “But hey,” Robby pauses by the door, opening it so Dana can walk out but looking at Jack who raises his eyebrows at him. “You weren’t serious about giving Myrna my address?”
Jack’s stoic look returns, not a hint of real emotion on his face. “Not today,” he deadpans and walks out. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“I feel ridiculous for being this emotional about something so simple. It’s just a haircut.” You shake your head but lean into Jack a bit more as you both stand and watch your son get his hair cut. 
He’s needed it. He has for a bit you’ve just struggled to bring yourself to do it and life got busy. But earlier this week you’d worked yourself up to it and asked Jack if the place he got his hair cut also did kids’ hair. He’d been a little surprised by the question, for some reason it felt kind of meaningful in some way that you wanted your son to go to his barber shop. He told himself that realistically it was probably just because you didn’t know where else to go, but you could have gone wherever you get your hair done, but maybe they just don’t take kids. 
In any event your son is here at Jack’s barber shop getting a haircut. And you had asked Jack to come with you again once you made the appointment. He’d told you that you didn’t need to ask again, of course he would. You’ve been together a little over a week now and things have been good. Steady and sweet. Lots of hugs and forehead kisses and side cuddles on the couch when you’ve both been home at the same time. 
“First haircut, though. It’s kind of a big deal,” Jack murmurs to you, hand rubbing your back. 
“I don’t even know why I’m like this.”
“You don’t need to know why. You’re allowed to just feel. But I’m guessing it’s because it’s a sign of him growing up.” Jack presses a kiss to the top of your head. He’s not super sure how much you’ve thought about the end result but he wants you to be prepared. “Sweetheart, you know this haircut is most likely going to make him look much older?”
You go still and then Jack hears you sniffle. “No!” Your voice gets adorably high-pitched like you’re fighting back tears and you turn further into Jack and rest your forehead in the crook of his shoulder while you let a couple of tears fall. 
“I’ve got you,” Jack says with a sad little laugh, holding you close and rubbing your back. “I just wanted you to be prepared.” 
“I didn’t even think about that, I was just so focused on the haircut generally,” you mumble into him.
“I kind of thought so,” he murmurs, wiping away the one or two stray tears when you pull your face from his shoulder.
“God,” you huff at yourself, “when I said come with me to be my shoulder to cry on I didn’t think I was going to mean it literally.” 
Jack chuckles. “That’s alright, it’s part of what I’m here for. As in right now and generally, you know?” 
You look up at him and smile. You know he means as your boyfriend. “I do, yeah.” 
Later that night you and Jack are in the kitchen grabbing some water to take to bed with you and putting away a couple of things that have dried on the dish rack. You’d just finished watching your current show on the couch together like you often do. Jack had been right. The haircut makes your son look older. You’d had a little moment about it after you guys left the shop but you were able to move past it pretty quickly. 
Something about the day and the night has felt different for you. Jack has been so understanding and sweet and supportive and perfect, not just over the last week and a bit you’ve been together officially but even the three months before that, just in a different capacity. And you want more with him. You want to express your thanks and affection through more than hugs and side cuddles on the couch and forehead and cheek kisses. You want more of Jack. And you feel ready.
He’s putting the last of the dishes away.
“Hey Jack?”
“Yeah, Sweetheart?” His eyebrows raise a little as he shuts the cabinet door and turns to look at you. 
“Thank you. For today. Coming with me and holding me while I cried.” You shrug with a soft laugh. “I’m sorry you have to do so much of that right now.”
“You’re welcome. I was very happy to come, thank you for inviting me.” He walks closer to you but lets you initiate any touching. You wrap your arms around his waist loosely as you look up at him, his arms doing the same. “You have nothing to apologize for though. And I don’t feel like I’m having to hold you while you cry particularly often. Even if I was, I wouldn’t care. I mean I would care in the sense that I fucking hate seeing you upset, but not at the fact that you needed and wanted me to hold you. And I’m pretty sure you’ve held me while I cried recently too.” He tilts his head and gives you a little smirk. 
“I would anytime you needed.” You take a step closer to him and wrap your arms around him a little tighter, one of Jack’s arms around your waist while his other hand rubs up and down your back. 
Jack laughs softly, eyes crinkling so perfectly you could scream. “Same for you.” 
He looks beautiful in the flickering light of the lit candle on the kitchen table. Unfairly handsome with the way his skin glows and with his molten eyes and kissable and suckable lips and salt and pepper stubble. Jack’s thinking the same thing about you in this light. How the flickering light makes your eyes look like they’re shimmering, how the shadows hit perfectly to highlight your features and how the soft glow of the candle makes you look radiant. 
“What are you thinking about so hard?” you ask him a little breathlessly, closing the last of the distance between your bodies so that you’re flush against each other chest to chest, both your and Jack’s arms tightening around each other.
“That you’re beautiful,” he murmurs. “Incredibly so.” 
The smile that pulls on your face is bashful. “Funny, I was just thinking how incredibly handsome you are.” You lean your head up and in towards his, eyes dropping down to his lips for a second before returning to his eyes. “And how I’d like you to kiss me.” 
This close you can just about see Jack’s pupils dilate a little further. God does he fucking want to kiss you. But he finds himself unable to just do it without checking. “We don’t have to do this. You do not owe me. Not for going with you or because you cried and I held you or for anything at all. Ever.”
You nod at him. 
Jack brings his head down towards yours, tilting it slightly, eyes focused on your lips for a moment before going back to your eyes. “Say it please.” 
“I know. I know I don’t owe you,” you whisper, “I promise. I want this. I’ve been wanting this. And I’m ready.” 
“Okay,” he whispers, leaning his head down and towards yours further. Your lips are just about touching now.
“Jack,” you breathe against his lips. 
He nods once. “Yeah? You sure?” 
You nod at him. “Please.”
Jack doesn’t need asked twice. And so in your candle lit kitchen you share your first kiss. He presses his lips to yours in an almost painfully sweet and chaste kiss, holding his lips against yours just the right amount of time before he pulls away to look you in the eye, check in, see if you liked it, if you want more, if that’s enough for the night. 
The look in your eyes tells him all he needs to know just as the look in his tells you. But Jack doesn’t have time to even move in to kiss you again because you’re already kissing him, one hand resting on his chest while the other comes to cup his jaw and keep him close. 
You’re stealing kiss after kiss from each other, most of them starting to linger. Starting to get just a touch hotter. No open mouths or tongue or hard sucking, just more urgent.
Even kissing you Jack is respectful, though you expected absolutely nothing less with how he is, how he treats you. He lets you set the pace, follows your lead. There are soft noises of appreciation from each of you, the sounds slipping out easily even with the relatively chaste kissing you’re doing. 
You can feel the uncertainty of Jack’s hands as they rest against your hips, thumbs rubbing soft circles over your shirt. You know it’s not that he’s not confident or is particularly self-conscious, but that he’s not sure what you’re okay with, where you’re okay with his hands being. It makes you smile against his lips. 
“What?” he asks against your lips as he smiles just because you are. 
“Nothing.” You take another kiss. “You’re just very cute.”
“Oh?” Jack kisses you again.
You nod a little. “Yeah.” It’s mumbled against his lips. Your hands leave his chest and jaw to find his and bring them up to hold your face, silently communicating to him that it’s okay for him to hold your face like that, touch you like that. 
Jack doesn’t get to appreciate his hands holding your face very long because you’re grabbing them again, wrapping them around you and using your hand to make his hand squeeze and grab at your hip and waist, bring one up to hold the back of your neck, kissing each other all the while. “Thank you,” he murmurs against your lips. And he means it. He’s very thankful for you showing him what you’re okay with. 
“Thank you,” you mumble back, continuing to kiss him.
The last kiss breaks naturally and you pull apart. You’re both panting softly, less because you’re out of breath and more because you’re just worked up for each other. 
“That was…” You feel a little lightheaded. 
“Yeah.” Like you, Jack is a little dizzy from kissing you. “That felt so good.” He’s struggling to come up with words.
“Felt so… right,” you laugh, the sound breathless and airy. 
“Good.” Jack nods and smiles at you.  
“Did it for you?” you ask, suddenly a touch self-conscious. “Feel right?”
“Oh yeah, Sweetheart,” he drawls the first two words with a quiet and shaky laugh that says everything you need to know about just how good and right kissing you felt, “that felt right.” 
It’s then you get a good enough flicker of light to really notice the flush of his cheeks and neck. “Good.” You lean up and kiss him again.
The two of you kiss for another minute or so before you naturally break apart again. But this time Jack rests his forehead against yours. 
“We should probably go get some sleep,” Jack whispers.
“I’m not opposed to doing this all night.” You smile. 
Jack’s breathy laugh fans across your lips. “Neither am I. Believe me, neither am I.”
“I know you’re right though.” You can’t help the way your bottom lip pushes out in the slightest pout. 
“I really wish I wasn’t,” Jack groans before pulling his forehead from yours. 
You giggle at him. “But you are.” 
You share smiles before actually grabbing the water you in part initially came into the kitchen for. You grab the monitor and Jack blows the candle out as he follows you into the hallway, illuminated only by the nightlight you have so neither you, nor Jack now, has to blind yourself if you need to get to your son in the middle of the night. 
Like always as of late, Jack walks you to your bedroom door. “Thank you for a great day, Jack. And night.” You lean up and give him a quick kiss. “Goodnight, Sweetheart.”
He smiles at you. “No, thank you. For the great day and fantastic night.” Jack winks at you with a small slightly smirked smile that makes you bite your lip and laugh to yourself, bashful again. He leans back down asking for one last kiss that you’re happy to give him, along with a hug. “Goodnight, Sweetheart.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jack’s finishing up his shift Wednesday morning around 8:30. A trauma had come in right at shift change, so he’s only just had the chance to run the board with Robby. He’s signing off on a few last things and then is out, looking forward to some sleep. 
He nods a quick goodbye to Dana and starts to leave the hub when he hears a baby crying.
But it’s not just a baby crying. Jack would recognize that cry anywhere. Ice starts to spread through his veins.
Your son is here and crying and he is decidedly not happy. It’s not his usual cry. And for Jack if your son is randomly showing up here in his ED and not happy and crying the way he is, it means something is wrong. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I hope it was okay and worth the wait and you enjoyed and I would love to hear your thoughts and comments! They give me much joy and inspiration! Liking, replies and reblogging are so so appreciated! My inbox is always open for thoughts, comments, and general screaming! As are my DMs! 🙂
Do we want more of these two? I have like seven thousand ideas for the two of them if more than just myself would like to see more of them lol. The next couple of parts would probably less time jumping like this one and then I think it would probably pick back up again. Let me know if you'd like more!
Thank you for all your support and for reading!! ♥️
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butyoudidthis4what · 5 days ago
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can we PLSSSS get quiet part 2 soon im dying part 1 was so good
Give me five or so minutes ;)
Also I know best friends to lovers with Jack technically won the poll I did but it was by 1% and more importantly I got like a thousand or so words in to the best friends to lovers and had a crisis about it and deleted and started over with a new idea. So I'm still working on it but I think it should be soon!
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