frombookstoretobookstore

[frombookstoretobookstore]

Request if you have time!!! Could u do an Abbott surgical tech reader ( surgical techs assist during surgery abs um going to school for it!!) where the comfort eachother have the pit fest accident maybe a lil spice!

Alright so I really tried my best to nail the surgical tech but but what do I know? I work with plants for a living! I hope you enjoy this and I'm so sorry it took me so long!

TW: Mention of mass casualty event, blood, medical inaccuracies, hint of spice at the end.

Masterlist

The Offer

Today has been hell. No, Y/n was positive not even hell was this bad.

Y/n had spent the first few minutes before the onslaught of the shooting victims running around and gathering supplies, doing her best to anticipate what they’d need downstairs. Her and her colleagues had started throwing everything they could into disaster bins.

She’d been pulled down to the ED floor shortly after, running around with supplies, responding to calls for chest tubes and intubation trays, and trying not to slip in the blood that continued to pool on the floor.

“Can someone stabilize for a flip?” She isn’t even sure who calls for it, just that she’s there to stabilize a neck as a doctor rolls the patient to check the exit wound of a bullet. She’s handing him an IO and a unit of O Neg before they can even ask.

“Always four steps ahead.” Abbot breathes, working quickly to get an IO in. “If needed, bone marrow transfusion is just as good as an IV.”

“Need a hand?” She hears Robby ask as she’s passing over a laryngoscope before Abbot can even hold his hand out.

“I’ve got two hands.” Abbot says a small smile forms on Y/n’s face as she’s passing over an endotracheal tube. She nods at him before taking off again to help someone calling for more tools.

A few minutes later, after having to catch herself on the nurses’ station as she slides, she hears Abbot calling that the patient she’d just assisted on, hadn’t made it.

She doesn’t even have time to think of the loss before she’s off running again, answering a call for another set of hands. She can feel the stress and exhaustion sitting in the base of her skull, her shift having ended hours ago, but she pushes it aside as she’s dodging and weaving around patients, doctors, and nurses.

This goes on for hours, something that feels like a lifetime. She’s running around, anticipating needs, and helping where she can.

Y/n can still feel the adrenaline pumping through her veins, a harsh counterpoint to the utter exhaustion in her bones. Her reflection in the mirror stares back at her, pale and drawn, her eyes shadowed by the ghosts of what she can’t unsee.

She’s fully determined to pull herself together, to not let the tragedies follow her home and into her dreams. She wanted the reprieve of being able to leave everything at the doors of the hospital, to not go through every moment that had happened today, every choice she’d made.

However, she isn’t so lucky today. After helping clear the ED of the remnants of the mass casualty, she’s sitting up on the roof, breathing in the fresh air like a lifeline.

She’s so in her head, she jumps slightly when Abbot sits down next to her, a juice box offered to her as he opens his own.

“Never in a million years did I think I’d see Dr. Jack Abbot drinking a juice box while sitting on the roof. Standing near the edge sure, but sitting here? Never.” He chuckles softly as she all but chugs the juice, the sugar helping her with her adrenaline come down. 

“I’d have brought you a sandwich, but Whitaker snatched the last one.” He’s looking out at the skyline, the silence between the comfortable. He knocks his knee against her when he notices her hands are still shaky.

“I know it’s literally the point of your job to be one step ahead of all of us, but down there, you were incredible. I’ve never seen someone so focused.” She nods slightly, a flat lipped smile on her face. He places his hand in hers, squeezing it slightly.

She inhales deeply, willing the night air to fix her, to calm her, to let her leave all of this behind when she leaves.

“I’ll be washing my hands every ten minutes for the next week.” She laughs slightly, squeezing Abbot’s hand back. 

“These things,” he says as he sighs, “stick with you longer than we feel it should. But down there, that isn’t normal.”

“A brief reprieve to witness the worst of humanity.” She says, a dark chuckle erupts from her chest.

“Yeah, something like that.” He laughs, understanding her need to be sarcastic after what they’d both witnessed.

“After something like this, what do you do? Not the processing part, but the decompressing after the initial event.” She’s letting her head fall on his shoulder as they keep looking out.

“A shower, a nice bottle of whiskey, listen to a few records.” She laughs at his nonchalance. He places a small kiss to the top of her head, their fingers intertwined. Neither thinks too hard about the intimacy, both are too busy relishing in the contact.

“Care to join?”

“What?!” She sputters, coughing slightly on her juice as she removes herself from Abbot to look at him, his eyes shining as he laughs. 

Abbot’s laughter fades as he leans back to look at her. “I was serious though. Sometimes, when the night gets too heavy, you need something to snap you out of it. Music works for me—helps me tune out the noise.”

She couldn’t help but smile faintly, “Never pictured you as the vinyl type,” she murmurs, teasing him.

He shrugs, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “There’s a lot about me you don’t know, yet.”

“Yet?” She asks, raising an eyebrow while still letting herself relax, their hands still faintly brushing.

He chuckles, turning to face her fully. “Well, if you ever decide to take me up on that offer; whiskey, records, and maybe even a decent meal.”

“Does that offer extend to tonight? Wasn’t it supposed to be you day off? I don’t want to crash it.”

“I would love nothing more for you to crash my day off, or what’s left of it.” He laughs, their hands intertwining again.

She turns to look at him; his eyes appear sunken and fatigued, and his hair is disheveled, likely due to repeatedly running his hands through it. He smiles softly at her, and she finds comfort in his gaze, returning his smile.

She stands and offers her hand down to him. He smirks as he takes her hand and allows her to lead them inside to the elevator.

“I take it that’s a yes to my offer?” He asks, an eyebrow raised, and his arms crossed as they descend.

“Nah, figured I’d continue my existential crisis at home by myself.” She laughs, earning a soft chuckle from Abbot, his gaze still trained on her. “I’d do just about anything for a decent meal.”

He chuckles softly, letting his head rest against the elevator wall, his gaze still on her, on her lips.

“Anything?” He asks.

“Just about anything. Who knows. After a shower and a meal, I could be down.” She’s stepping towards him, a sultry smirk on her face. He inhales slightly as she enters his space.

“Depends on how good the meal is.” She winks, breezing past him to gather her things from the surgical floor. She turns to him before the elevator doors close. “That, and how willing you’d be to get on your knees and show me a good time.”

He closes his eyes with a groan, her laughter filtering in through the doors as they close. He smirks to himself when he exits the elevator, intent on showing her just how good of a time he can be.

-------------------

A/N: Requests are still open so feel free to send some in! As usual let me know what y'all think!

[frombookstoretobookstore]

Hi! I absolutely love your Jack Abott fics!! You’d are a wonderful writer! I was wondering if you would consider doing a jealous Jack fic? 😁

Aw thank you! Of course! I've had one in the works since I put out a poll. Enjoy!

Jealousy Looks Good On You

Summary: Jealous Abbot is quite possessive and isn't afraid to show it at work, or in the elevator ;) T/W: Bit steamy, Abbot isn't afraid to touch what's his. Masterlist

“You keep that Abbot furrow up you’ll burst a blood vessel.” Robby laughs from where he’s leaned against the nurses’ station.

Jack doesn’t answer, his jaw creaks as his teeth grind together. He can feel the headache starting to form behind his eyes from where his gaze is trained on you. A growl almost forms in his chest when he watches your eyes sparkle as you laugh at what one of the cops says. He can feel his nails digging into his palm as his fists clench.

“Seriously, Abbot.” Robby knocks his shoulders against Jack’s, breaking him out of his trance. “What has gotten into you?”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” Jack says as he turns to his friend, willing a smile to his face. It drops as soon as he hears you laugh again, his scowl back as he turns towards your direction.

“I see lover boy is at it again.” Dana scoffs, patting Jack’s shoulder as she walks past him to drop off her bag as her shift starts.

“Some days I think the only security we need is to protect some of these guys against Abbot.” Robby smirks at the glare Jack sends him.

“Abbot, she’s just talking, cool your jets!” Dana says harshly, causing Jack to look down at his shoes. 

Jack’s irritation peaks when he sees the cop touch your elbow, his vision pinpoints on the contact between the two of you. 

His feet move before his brain can stop them, carrying him across the room toward you. He can hear Robby’s voice calling after him, but it’s just background noise compared to the storm brewing in his chest. By the time he’s standing a few feet away, he notes the faint flush on your cheeks as you clock his movement.

“Just finished with a consult, sorry to keep you waiting.” His smile is predatory as he leans in, pressing a kiss to your hairline. His hands instinctively pull you into his side as he wraps his arm around your waist.

“Anyway, let me know if you hear anything on it, I’m sure the rig will show up sometime.” Y/n waves as Jack is practically dragging her back to the nurses’ station, his only intent to pull you back unto his world, under his gaze and protection.

Dana snorts from behind her hand, clearly unimpressed with Jack’s attitude. He shoots her a look sharp enough to cut glass. You roll your eyes as even Robby is having to bite his lip to withhold his laughter.

“I guess we’re headed out.” Y/n says, raising her eyebrows in annoyance. She looks up to Jack who still has a hand on her waist. “Am I allowed to say goodbye or are you going to hulk out again?” He rolls his eyes with a huff; he leans back against the counter as you gather your things, his gaze sweeping across the room like a bodyguard looking for threats.

“He isn’t a man of sharing; the man covets peanut M&M’s like a kid at Halloween.” Robby laughs, rolling his eyes as he feels the bite of Jack’s gaze. 

Y/n barely has her things gathered before Jack is ushering them out of the ED; she calls out a parting goodbye as he stomps them out through the ambulance bay. He’s livid when he watches her shoot a sarcastic salute to the cop she had been talking to earlier.

Once out of ear shot, he winces as he feels her rally to call him out. “Jack, what the actual fuck?!”

“He was flirting with you.” He grunts, clearly still in full blown protective mode.

You grab his wrist to halt him, making him turn his broody gaze down to you. You burst out laughing at the dark look in his eyes that seems like it should be in a period drama, and not on your boyfriend’s face.

“Oh my god.” You blow out. “Are you fucking jealous because I talked to the cop about a boat rig, they’d had stolen last night?” He turns away stiffly and continues walking towards the direction of your apartment building, ignoring the laughter that almost has you doubled over.

“We were talking about the boat that was stolen from the police department parking lot, trailer and all, and you’re acting like some damn brooding period romance wannabe Jack!” He’s still ignoring you, trying to quicken his pace. Now that the initial jealousy has worn off, he’s slightly embarrassed by his behavior.

He’s holding the door for you to grab before he’s punching his keys into the lock on the front door of your apartment complex. His jaw is tight again, a muscle ticking. He can feel the triumphant smirk on your face you’re aiming at his back. 

He leans against the back wall of the elevator, his arms braced on the railing. You chuckle slightly as you wait for the elevator to reach your floor, your arms crossed as you shift your weight as you stand in front of him. You startle as you feel a sharp slap delivered to your ass by Jack.

You scoff and turn to him, eyes wide and mouth agape. “Excuse me?” you ask.

He crosses his arms and drops his eyes down to you and then back up to the screen to watch the floor numbers climb. “Mine.” He growls softly.

“Don’t start.” You warn, turning back around. You jump again as he places one last slap to your ass before brushing past you when the elevator doors start to open.

“Jack Abbot.” You scold, hustling after him, his dark chuckle echoing back to you from down the hall. He’s leaning against the apartment door, his gaze still dark, his arms crossed. You take probably a bit too long studying the veins as you walk up, enjoying the ways his muscles flex.

You eye him with an eyebrow raised and a shake of your head. You dig into your pockets to find your keys.

“I’m not going to be able to walk tomorrow am I.” You say as you push the door open, his gaze still heavy on you.

“Not if I can help it.” He says with a wicked smirk; his lips crashing into yours, his hand already possessively around your neck. 

“Jealousy looks really good on you.” You moan, chuckling softly at his lack of control as he pushes you across the threshold and into your apartment.

------------------------------------------------------ A/N: Slowly working through requests! Per usual I hope you and enjoy and lmk what y'all think!

[frombookstoretobookstore]

A Teaching Moment

Abbot x Wife!Reader Summary: When Abbot's wife tries to sneak in with a small medical emergency, some of the doctors of the ED decide to use it as a teaching moment. Of course, Abbot finds out his wife is in the ER and he's none too happy. Tw: Blood, stitches, Walsh teasing Abbot. Masterlist

“Ow, ow, ow, still ow!” Y/n says as Robby laughs quietly as he continues to clean the various cuts on her hand.

“You want the good news or the bad news?’ He asks, hands on his hips as he looks up at his friend from the stool he’s sitting on.

“I’d love for you to just finish this up so I can go the hell home!” She says exasperated.

“Good news, you only need two stitches.”

“The bad news Robert; spit it out.” She says, her eyes narrowing.

“Dana might be looking for your husband to let him know you’re here.” Robby says apologetically, pulling her hand back to inspect it for any other pieces of glass. He grips her wrist as she falls back with a groan.

“What part of ‘I may need a few stitches please be discreet’, did you not fucking get?” She’s gritting her teeth against the pain as Robby continues flushing the wounds out.

Before he can apologize, Abbot’s ripping the curtain aside; his chest heaving and a bewildered look on his face. He rushes forward, taking Y/n’s face in his hands.

“What happened? Are you ok? Dana said you…” His panicked stream of words is cut off as Dana leans against the wall in the entryway to interrupt him.

“Dana said his wife had lost a battle with a glass vase and was perfectly fine and wouldn’t even need any stiches. I even mentioned how smart she was to come into the ED to make sure she was fine.” Dana says in the third person, rolling her eyes as Abbot continues to fidget over his wife.

Y/n bats his hands away. “Oh my god I swear I’m fine, the vase shattered, and I tried to catch it before it hit the floo- the fuck Robby!” She swears and hisses as Robby injects lidocaine to numb her hand before adding a few stitches.

“Pinch and some burning.” Robby says as he starts stitching two smaller cuts on her thumb. He chuckles softly when he can feel the ‘no shit’ look he’s getting from Y/n. He looks to Abbot who is still standing with a panicked look on his face.

“Scratch that, she’ll need two stitches, why don’t you go check in with your gremlins while I finish up here, hm?” He shoots Abbot a look and the vet glares back. He presses a kiss to the side of his wife’s head.

“You’re stitching up my wife and you think I’m going to just walk away? You’re so very funny.” He jokingly sneers at his friend.

Just as Abbot is about to sit, intent on staying with his wife before he clocks in for his shift, when Dr. Walsh strides in with the med students in tow.

Abbot groans and sits down heavily on a rolling stool to the right of his wife, his gaze on the ceiling.

“And here you can see a great misuse of company resources. Two senior attendings, one of which isn’t even clocked in, and our charge nurse all on one, simple, stitch up.” She’s beaming as the med students cluster into the small trauma room, clearly confused on why they’re being dragged into this.

Abbot groans and lays his head on the bed, trying his best to will himself not to crash out at this woman.

“And here we see a wonderful surgeon who has clocked in for her nightshift and is misusing her time parading around exhausted med students. Hi Walsh.” Y/n is swaying her feet side to side as they’re propped up on the exam table she’s been sat up in.

“Y/n here is the lovely partner of our brooding Dr. Abbot.” Dana says with a smirk. “And she’s been nice enough to stress out her husband by hurting herself before his shift to join us at the ER.” Abbot groans from where he has his head down. He props it up on his hand and fixes Walsh with a glare the med students find off-putting. 

“Send the ducklings home Robby, I can handle it from here.” Y/n says, picking up some gauze to wrap her hand from the metal tray next to him. “All of you go home, shows over.” She raises an eyebrow.

“You heard her, go.” Abbot waves his hands, prompting the med students to scatter out the door.

“You need to stop scaring the med students, they’ll be on your shift soon enough.” Roby laughs, Abbot shooting him a look.

“Oh please,” Abbot says as he stands. “Y/n has practically adopted them already.”

“Alright, you know the drill. And I doubt he’ll let you forget anything.” Robby laughs as Abbot studies his stiches.

“She won’t be lifting a finger. Better yet, she’ll be reduced to bed rest until her stitches come out and she’s consulted with ortho.” Abbot’s stare remains serious as his wife scoffs as she stands from the exam chair.

“It’s a flesh wound, not an open fracture.” She’s rolling her eyes, Abbot already fretting over her standing so soon after her trauma. “Jack Henry Abbot, I am not taking a wheelchair, I can walk back to the car just fine.”

Robby can’t help but laugh as he exits the room to head home. He leaves his friend to fret over his wife.

“You drove here?!” Abbot says, his eyes wide.

“It was a smattering of a few small cuts!”

“You could have bled out!”

“I couldn’t have bled out if I tried!”

“What if you threw a clot?”

“I’m going to pretend we aren’t having this conversation anymore and go home.” Y/n starts to leave but Abbot isn’t done with her.

He catches her arm gently, his grip firm enough to halt her without causing any pain. “Y/n, please. Just give me a minute. I need to know you're going to take care of yourself.”

Y/n sighs but softens slightly at the pleading look on Abbot's face. “I promise, Jack. I'll take it easy. Bed rest, no lifting, no sudden movements.” She lays a hand on his chest. He smiles and lifts her bandaged hand to his lips, pressing a small kiss to her knuckles.

“Maybe if you behave tonight, I’ll let you take out my stitches when it's time. If not, I’m letting one of the med students do it.” She laughs and presses a kiss to the side of his mouth before making her way towards the exit to the parking lot.

“You wouldn’t dare.” He yells after her, unable to stop the smirk on his face.

“Try me!” She hollers back as she steps out into the night. ___________________________________________ A/N: I'm working on so many pieces right now, a few requests, and possibly (possibly) a Pope Cody fic. As always I appreciate any feedback!

[frombookstoretobookstore]

Thanks for including me!

𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒

jack abbot

☆ these walls have eyes | @asxgard

rumors always start somewhere - and the one about you and a certain attending started somewhere between a whispered confession and myrna overhearing you.

☆ no man's land | @butyoudidthis4what

there's a shooting where you work. jack is at the ed when the dispatch comes in and is terrified when he can't get in touch with you.

☆ edge of the dark | @thepencilnerd

what starts as quiet pining after too many long shifts becomes something heavier, messier, softer - until the only place it makes sense is in the dark.

☆ this city doesn't forget | @abbotjack

you weren't supposed to see him again. not like this. not in this dress, not in this city, not with his last name still catching in your throat. but pittsburgh remembers what you tried to bury.

☆ you, me, and the empty space between us | @mercvry-glow

jack abbot talks the reader off of the ledge.

☆ just a walk-in | @abbotsanatomy

jack's worst nightmare is you ending up in his er.

☆ bar fight | @tedmustache

a rough night leads the reader to the er, and jack's only priority is making sure she's okay.

☆ coffee swap | @tedmustache

it starts with coffee. then it becomes something more.

☆ safe and sound | @science-hoes

a stormy night in pittsburgh causes jack abbot to fall into a ptsd-induced psychosis episode, and the reader does everything in her power to bring them back.

☆ you say that like you care | @frombookstoretobookstore

after reader takes a punch to the face, abbot's emotions flare as he realizes he might care a little too much.

☆ overactive empathy | @lol-im-done

will a traumatic event force jack and the reader to confront their true feelings for each other or pull them apart forever?

☆ first thing | @stellamarielu

lazy mornings with jack are few and far between, but they always exceed your expectations.

☆ who you let in | @eddiesfaerie

jack has a soft spot. he didn't expect you to be the one to find it.

☆ you shouldn't be (down here with me) | @youvebeenlivingfictional

when you're almost shot at work, your body snaps into autopilot as your mind goes into overdrive. jack has always recognized parts of himself in you - he knows a mind teetering on the edge when he sees one.

☆ love me hard love me soft | @mercvry-glow

jack abbot isn't a soft man, but he'll learn for you.

☆ stop making this hurt | @mercvry-glow

you knew jack didn't want to go to pitt fest, instead suggesting you take a few of your girl friends on your day off. little does he know that decision leads to you experiencing the worst day of your life without him.

☆ valkyries and betting pools | @nocapesdahling

one of the most popular and secret betting pools is focused on what's going on with you and dr. abbot. meanwhile, you just want to figure out if the man you've had a crush on for months likes you back.

☆ someone new | @quickestgold

after witnessing the fallout from jack's failed marriage, dana and robby have been skeptical of his new relationship. but when a freak accident forces them to see the depth of jack's feelings, their perspectives shift.

☆ don't make me someone you can't have | @abbotjack

the fallout didn't start the day of pitt fest - it started when you told jack abbot how you felt and he told you he didn't want you.

☆ say it first | @quickestgold

jack has grown used to the emptiness in his heart, a quiet companion that has kept him safe for too long. but when you finally speak your truth, he realizes the hardest battles aren't fought on the field or in the chaos of the er, but in the silence between two hearts longing for each other.

michael 'robby' robinavitch

☆ companionship | @asxgard

he’s not sure how he got here, perhaps it’s the aching loneliness or the overwhelming stress. you’re there because it seems like easy money and you have a pushy friend. all in all, it’s a good deal — he gets the companionship he’s after, no strings, and you get your utility bills paid on time. it’s pretty simple, easy, until your arrangement bleeds into something a bit more…complicated.

☆ lead the way | @traumaone

after over a year of pining over robby, reader gets into a relationship to try and get over him, and gets cheated on. robby comes to the rescue.

☆ booked for one | @abbotjack

a black tie charity gala in chicago. one bed. months of tension. and a storm that forces both of you to stop pretending.

☆ glasses be damned | @thepencilnerd

lazy sunday mornings. you in his shirt. him wearing - glasses? what could be better?

☆ drunk confessions | @thepencilnerd

you're out drinking with your colleagues. robby's not there - until he is.

☆ sticky-notes and leftovers | @thepencilnerd

a glimpse into your daily notions with robby after moving in.

☆ sweet nothings | @thebestandworstdayofjune

you own a bakery down the street from ptmh, and dr. robby is one of your favorite customers.

☆ peace | @xximperioxx

the reader comforts robby after a hard shift (she talks him off the ledge).

☆ work crush | @xximperioxx

the reader has a crush on robby. spoiler alert: it's reciprocated.

☆ doctor's orders | @tedmustache

when one rough day pushes things to a breaking point, unspoken feelings come dangerously close to the surface.

☆ the right moment is you | @cherriready

robby didn't mean to propose today. not during a long shift, not without a plan, and definitely not in front of the er. but when he saw her, he saw the rest of his life. no speeches. no perfect moment. just her. always her.

[frombookstoretobookstore]

In Sickness and In Health

Abbot x Sick!Reader (Platonic) Robby x Reader (Because who doesn't want to be cared for by this hunk)

Masterlist

You’re trying to listen to Robby as he gathers the day shift before things get too busy, you really are. However, you’re working harder to hold in the chest rattling cough that’s plagued you for the past 24 hours.

You lean against the nurses’ station, one hand on the counter the other on your knee as a pained cough finally rattles past your lips, another two or three escaping with it. 

You hear Robby pause slightly, him and Dana shooting you a look of concern.

“Wrong pipe,” you wheeze, pointing to the cup of crappy hospital coffee next to. You must be convincing enough as they both turn their attention back to the meeting.

Robby ends the meeting and people start to disperse. You offer him a small thumbs up as you drink the coffee, begging the warmth to sooth your throat.

“Don’t be stupid, I can see your forehead veins.” Dana mutters as you look up and glare at her, daring her to call your bluff. “Be a real shame if someone told Jack.”

Your eyes widen and before you can plead with her not to tell him, another fit of coughing doubles you over and makes your head swim.

“I think I’m about to eject my lungs out of my damn face.” You groan, sucking up a disgusting amount of snot before righting yourself, the world swimming slightly.

“You shouldn’t even be practicing medicine with the number of cold meds in your body, let alone be here.” She hisses over the counter, knowing how stubborn you could be.

“I’m fine.” You wheeze, placing your head over your arms on the counter, begging your body to pull it together.

“How the hell did you get this past Jack” Robby asks as he tips your head back, hand on your forehead.

You groan and bat his hands away. “I’m fine.” It comes out as a whine, your sinuses throbbing with each word.

What you don’t see is the silent conversation between Dana and Robby, both already knowing that you’re anything but fine. You stumble slightly as the world tilts, Robby supporting you by your elbow.

“Alrighty, let’s get you to South 4. Dana, fluids please.” You try to bat off Robby again as he guides you towards an open bed, Dana chuckling from behind.

You go to reassure him once again that you’re fine, that not even Jack noticed. But the world lurches and you stumble, your knees buckling.

“Alrighty kiddo, you’re done.” Robby says as he scoops you up, carrying you towards the trauma room. The world is swimming, and you try your best to stay awake, but the universe slowly closes in.

You wake to Dana sitting on her phone next to your bed, her feet propped on the edge of the bed. You groan and turn to fully face her, your body not responding quite as fast as you need it to.

“You move anymore, and I’ll put you in soft restraints. Nearly decked Robby when we put your IV in.” She doesn’t look up, her no nonsense tone enough to stop you from moving. A groan escapes your lips.

“Way to go. You’ve got influenza A kid. We’ve got you on fluids as you dehydrated yourself chugging coffee.” She laughs as she removes her feet from the bed and leans onto the bed, brushing hair out of your face.

“Please tell me you didn’t call him. He’ll kill me for not telling him and himself for not noticing.” You groan, your throat still scratchy and raw from coughing. Another cough rattles your chest.

“Going to work with a 100-degree fever, are you stupid?” Jack says as he rushes in, his hand on your forehead as he checks the saline bag you’re hooked up to. You groan, sending a glare to Dana. She holds up her hands in mock defense.

“If you’re going to shoot the messenger, aim for Robby.” She says as she pats your hand as she gets up to leave. “He barely got out that you’d passed out before this one freaked.”

“I didn’t pass out.” You say groggily as Jack takes a seat next to you, “I just got suddenly tired. Get that shit out of my face.” You bat at Jack as he starts shining his pen light in your eyes, his hands coming to put pressure on your sinuses. You groan at the pressure and pain.

“Wouldn’t be surprised if you develop a sinus infection.” He’s gone full clinical as he assesses you, talking out loud to no one in particular. “Well, they’ve got you on fluids, we’ll get you on an anti-viral as well. Add in some fever reducers and rest, you’ll be fine.” He presses a kiss to your forehead, and you scrunch your nose.

“Get out of here, I don’t want you getting sick.”

“I don’t’ get sick.”

You groan at his steadfastness, his unrelenting worry oozing from his eyes.

“Just discharge me and I’ll sleep it off on the couch, I’ll be fine.” You groan, pulling the blanket up to your chin, suddenly cold.

“You aren’t sleeping on the couch hotshot; I’ve got a full healing regiment I’m keeping you to once I get you home.” Jack smooths back your hair as you groan.

“I can manage.” You cough, turning away as to not cough directly in his face.

“Doesn’t mean you have to. You’re sicker than hell, let me help you out on this one.” He speaks. 

“Just get me home, and I’ll be fine.” You whine; another cough makes your tired lungs hurt.

“As soon as we finish hydrating you, be a good girl and finish that saline.” He laughs as you weakly put up a middle finger. “There’s my girl. I’ll get your discharge paperwork done and then you’re getting the full Abbot treatment once we get home. I don’t care if you don’t want to, you lost autonomy privileges when you snuck that sickness past me at shift change today.

You only groan at the pain in your head. “Stop talking, you’re hurting my head with your ego.”

“Love you to!” He says with a laugh as he goes to get you discharged so he can care of you at home.

-----------

Lmk what you think! This was purely self indulgent because I'm sick and love the idea of that man taking care of me.

[frombookstoretobookstore]

You Say That Like You Care

Abbot x Injured!Reader Summary: After reader takes a punch to the face, Abbot's emotions flare as he realizes he might care a little too much.

TW: Blood, injuries, angsty Abbot, Abbot admitting his feelings.

A/N: I don't love this piece but I needed to get an angsty Abbot piece out of my head. This might be purely self indulgent. Masterlist

Y/n groans as she digs the ice pack deeper into her eye socket to ground herself. Her shift was already in tatters, and she didn’t need to look at the clock to know her official shift hadn’t even begun.

She’d been called in early to help in the ER, a resident had gone home sick. She’d swung in early, happy to help where she could. Now she wished Dana had called someone else. She felt guilt rise in her chest, if she hadn’t come in, it could have been one of the med students who’d drawn the short straw.

She’d stepped in to help with a combative patient, nothing unusual. Hell, she worked with women in labor who usually threatened her the pain was so bad, she was used to never taking anything personally. 

The patient had presented with a partially degloved leg but the meth in his system had sent him ballistic. Y/n had caught a punch to the face. She’d been dragged out by McKay as she’d tried to continue helping despite the blood draining down her face.

So, Y/n finds herself sitting behind the nurses’ station, Princess swearing as she presses gauze to her nose while Y/n ices her swollen eye. Still another hour left to wait before her L&D shift is set to begin.

“Christ sweetie, the hell happened?” Dana asks, quickly donning a pair of gloves, removing the icepack from Y/n’s face as Princess continues cursing under her breath.

Y/n groans and bats her friend’s hands away. “Just dealing with it all tonight. Apparently. I’m fine.” She grounds out as Dana pulls her glasses on to study her bloodied face.

“Did you go to CT?” Dana asks, quickly grabbing some tissues to wipe away the blood encrusting Y/n’s face and neck.

“I’m not wasting CT’s time, I’m fine.” Y/n said, tears springing to her eyes as Dana prods her nose.

“Please tell me you fell. Or lost a fight with a newborn.” Robby says, Dana moving so he could assess their friend.

“She took a hit from curtain three.” Princess says, Y/n hissing when Robby started putting pressure on around her eye.

“Princess, call down to CT and get her in line. Let L&D know they’re down a doctor.” Robby starts testing her pupil reactivity.

“No, I’m not going home. I’ll be fine. I came here to collect myself, not to distract the best workers of the ED.” Y/n says, waving Princess off the phone. She rolls her eyes as she lets Y/n usher her back to work. Robby only sighs as he crosses his arms and takes in her appearance.

“You probably have a concussion if not a fracture. Let’s get some morphine so I can pop this nose back into place. Also, I doubt your patient satisfaction scores will go up with the way you look right now kid.” Robby says, chuckling softly as Y/n tries to scoff through the wads of gauze shoved up her nose.

Y/n bats his hands away again. She stands and Robby tries to push her down onto a stool again. The four newest med students’ eyes grow big as they took in the L&D doctors banged up in front of them as they wait to check in with Robby before leaving.

Y/n groans as she notices the newest pairs of eyes on her. “Alright gremlins time for a teaching moment gather around.” Robby only rolls his eyes.

“If you’re going to be stubborn, at least let Dana come back with morphine. For my sake.” Robby says, pinching the bridge of his nose as he already knows what Y/n is going to do.

“Quickly, how do we do a nasal fraction reduction?” Y/n asks doctors King and Javadi’s hands fly up first. Santos huffs with her arms crossed and opens her mouth to speak.

“Santos you’re out of the running. Raise your hand and maybe I’ll call on you next time.” Dr. Santos’s mouth hands open slightly, clearly not used to the sharp attitude of the usually sunshiny L&D doctor they’ve all gotten used to.

“A doctor manually realigns the displaced bone and cartilage; my guess is we’re looking at a type III nasal trauma. Biggest take away is never do a realignment on your…” Abbot’s gruff words and disapproving scowl are cut off as a sharp crack is heard as Y/n manually realigns her own nasal cavity.

The med student’s faces drop and a few pale even as they watch Y/n reset her own nose, the sound sickening. Y/n bends forward, the pain blinding for a few moments. She rights herself and presses gauze to her nose as it starts leaking blood again.

“That was both the grossest and most impressive thing I’ve ever seen.” Dr. Javadi whispers, her mouth still open.

“As I was going to say before Dr. Y/l/n did one of the stupidest things, is never reset your own nose.” Abbot’s tone is gruff and sharp, and judging by the med students’ faces, he’s using that icy stare that makes everyone uncomfortable.

“Check on your patients. Go.” Y/n only catches Robby’s smirk from across the nurse’s station as the med students scatter. Abbot has her by the elbow and is dragging her into a trauma room, snapping the curtain shut.

He’s slamming drawers closed as he starts grabbing materials to pack her nose. The room is icy, and Y/n can hear her heart pummeling in her ears, feels it in her nose.

Usually, she’d steer clear of pissing Abbot off, knowing his temper is short and how cold he can get. But today? She doesn’t care, she’s exhausted and angry.

“Quit hulking out. I’m fine.” She says, hissing as her breath burns her nose.

He doesn’t answer. His shoulders are tight, his jaw set, and his hands are tense as he drops everything onto a small metal table, yanking it closer as he looks at her nose and bruising around her eye. He adjusts a light to get a better look at the bruising.

“What happened?” He growls, tilting her head back as he checks the alignment on her nose.

“Got slugged.” She shrugs.

“Last I checked you worked with babies.”

“Not all of them are happy to leave the womb.”

“Stop I might actually laugh at one of your deflections.” He deadpans as his fingers skim her skin, checking for more fractures.

“Unless you have some superpowered hands there hulk, you aren’t going to be able to feel any fractures.” She speaks.

“I know.” His eyes are still icy, his brow furrowed as he keeps giving her a once over.

“Still injured. That isn’t going to change the more you stare at me.” She huffs out.

He tips an eyebrow up before throwing away the discarded, bloodied gauze, snapping his gloves off and heaving them into the trash. He leans against the counter behind him, his arms crossed against his chest as he stares at her again. He sighs deeply and lets his head drop.

“Jack Rabbit, talk to me.” She says as she shifts on the bed. “Your silent treatment is even creepier through one eye.” He smirks as he glances up at her trying to open her partially swollen eyelid.

“What are we going to do with you tonight? Any being you deliver is crawling right back in as soon as it sees that face.” His smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He breathes out and runs a hand through his curls and he lets it rest on the back of the neck. His gaze finally meets hers.

“Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like I might disappear.” 

He groans as his head falls back. “Every time something like this happens. I worry it’ll be the thing that drives you away from here.” His confession tumbles past his lips.

“You say that like you care.” Her heart swells as he looks at her, his stare full of emotion instead of ice.

“Maybe I do.” He mutters, his arms bracing on either side of him on the counter, his gaze back on his feet.

Y/n swears she can hear the heart monitor from three doors down as Abbot sits with the emotions he just showed her. She’s also sure her mouth is hanging open a bit.

“I.. I’m sorry?” She says, tilting her head towards him as if to hear him better.

“Because maybe I do care. Maybe I care if you get hurt. Maybe I care that I wasn’t called in early. Maybe I care, because I don’t want to see you hurt, ever.” He’s crossed the room in a few strides before she even realizes, close to her again.

“It was just a punch Abbot.” Her brows are furrowing as she grabs his hand as she notes that they’re shaking slightly.

“What if it wasn’t? What if it had been worse and I wasn’t there?” His eyes aren’t on her anymore, their distant.

“Abbot, it was one punch, and I wasn’t alone. Princess nearly bit his arm off, and security was in the room right after.” She laughs slightly, swinging their clasped hands between them.

“You really don’t get it, do you?” Abbot’s voice is low, almost a whisper. “It’s not about the punch or the guy who threw it. It’s about you. I care about you, Y/n. I care more than I should. Seeing you hurt, even a little, makes me feel like I’m failing you.”

Y/n’s expression softens, her grip on his hand tightening. “You’re not failing me, Abbot. You never have. I don’t need you to protect me from the world.”

He looks down at their joined hands, “That’s what I want too. More than anything. But it’s hard to turn off the part of me that wants to shield you from everything.”

She smiles gently, her thumb brushing over his knuckles. “Then don’t turn it off. Just... let me in.”

He nods, letting their clasped hands dangle between them. He steps forward, dropping her hand, before carefully tucking her into his chest. She breathes him in, smelling laundry soap and something that reminds her of leather.

They pull apart and he looks at her with an eyebrow raised. “Seriously though, I wouldn’t trust you to deliver anyone’s child.” She swats at his chest as a laugh rumbles his chest, his eyes clearer.

“Shut up and buy me dinner Army Boy, I’ve got a lot to talk to you about. You aren’t the only one caring more than you should.” His heart flutters in his chest as she stands. Before he can pull the curtain back, she’s pulling him in by his scrub top and pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. She pulls back with a smile.

She pulls open the curtain to Dana and Robby swapping cash, their eyes wide as they’re caught by the two.

“If either of you breathes a word of this to anyone.” Y/n hisses with her hand up to stop them from running. “I’ll make sure you leave your shifts with similar bandages.” She points to her own face as she walks off, Abbot only smirking as he watches her go.

-------- This one took me FOREVER to write and I'm not sure how I feel about it. I've been watching Animal Kingdom and I needed to write angsty Abbot after. Hope y'all enjoyed it!

[frombookstoretobookstore]

Cat Dad Abbot

A/n: Because I have a cat and I love Abbot Masterlist

Abbot x Reader

“Y/n, it’s staring at me again.”

“Y/n, it’s touching me.”

“Y/n, there’s cat fur on my scrubs again!”

Jack Abbot is not a cat person, and he barely tolerates his girlfriend’s cat. The thing is always tripping him up, getting fur all over his things, and worst of all, he can’t tell if the thing likes him, despises him, or both.

Sure, the thing has fur and big round eyes, so he’s sure it falls in the classification of ‘cute’, but pets aren’t his thing. He doesn’t understand why people keep cats around. A dog? Sure, they usually like to go for walks, run around, be outside. But cats? They shit in a box for Christ’s sake.

To make matters worse, he’s almost positive the cat only sleeps when Y/n is sleeping at night. Meaning the thing decides to terrorize him when he’s trying to sleep after a night shift. She’s constantly pawing at his face while dropping a toy near his hand.

On the weekends, when he and Y/n can sleep on a relatively similar schedule, he gets to sleep deeper, the cat is less likely to be tearing down the walls when his partner is sleeping next to him. But tonight? The cat’s really testing his patience.

“Y/n, get it off.” He huffs. He’s lying on his back waiting for her to come to bed. Her cat, Clara, has decided he’s the perfect victim for her pursuits. She’s immediately jumping onto his chest, tail swishing, as she proceeds to curl up on him. Even him sneezing from the few loose strands of cat fur in his nose can’t disturb her.

“She likes you!” He hears his girlfriend coo from their connected bathroom. He turns his head and shoots a glare her way. The movement causing the cat to stir, turn towards him, and start using his stubble as her own personal brush. 

Clara is headbutting his chin aggressively as she scratches her face, chin, and cheeks against his rough stubble. He again hears his girlfriend continue cooing and the unmistakable sound of her taking pictures.

Every time he tries to remove the cat from his chest and face, she slinks right back onto him to continue her onslaught against his beard. Moving quickly, he pushes the cat off his chest and sits up.

“That’s not going to stop her!” His girlfriend laughs as her cat quickly stands on its hind legs to bat at his face. He glares down at the cat as it starts furiously purring. He looks to his girlfriend for help.

“Stop being so grumpy! She clearly likes you! With my past boyfriends she’d just sit in the corner and glare at them. She once even peed in one of their shoes.” His girlfriend is applying moisturizer as he grumbles with the cat touching him.

“Change the subject.” He huffs, over protectiveness flaring in his chest at the mention of her previous (and unqualified) flings.

“Hey, just saying. None of them ever got the approval of her nor were they able to make me cum as quick as you are.” He huffs out a laugh, pushing the cat away from his face again. Clara sits down and begins to groom herself aggressively.

“Your breath stinks.” He mumbles to the cat, causing her to look up at him with her leg still in the air. 

“And you’re a grumpy old man who is scared of sharing his girlfriend with a damn cat.” Y/n says with a laugh as she sits down on her side of the bed, the cat immediately walking over to her for attention.

He sighs at the sight, the two enjoying each other’s company, as he starts pulling his prosthetic off, a spare sneaker still attached to it. He feels relief as he pulls it off, setting it against the nightstand. The cat immediately coming over to investigate.

He looks down at the feline tiredly, the cat’s tail swishing as she sits next to him as he pulls his legs up and over onto the bed, swinging the covers over him. He holds a hand out and the cat head butts him with such force, she almost knocks herself over. He scratches the space between her ears and the cat erupts into vibrations. His girlfriend chuckles softly, her most recent romance novel pick already open and in her hands.

Abbot lays back and lets the cat fall into his side, the vibrations reverberating into his own chest. The slight static of the police scanner faint in the background grounding him as he settles in, enjoying the quiet night.

He turns his head slightly, hands behind his head, as he watches his partner read, her lip between her teeth.

“Let me know when you need me to act out a scene.” He smiles as she laughs and looks over to him, their hands intertwining. 

“I’ll let you know.” She hums, tracing the back of his hand with her thumb.

Clara jumps down to the hardwood floor next to Abbot, her tiny six-pound body making a large ‘thud’ as she lands. Abbot groans, knowing what’s coming next.

They both hear the familiar scratching as Clara grabs his prosthetic by the laces of the sneaker and drags it under the bed. He can hear her kicking it with her back legs, the sound of titanium meeting cat claws evident from under the bed.

Y/n groans. “You do this every time Jack, you put it there on purpose knowing she’ll do this.” She’s up and trying to shove herself under the bed, fingers a mere inch from the cat.

He laughs slightly, hearing his girlfriend swear at her cat as she tries to wrestle the prosthetic from her.

“At least we can agree on one thing,” he says, tilting his head up to watch his girlfriend hold the prosthetic in triumph, “she hates that damn thing as much as I do.” He laughs when his girlfriend groans, placing the prosthetic on top of his nightstand as he continues to cackle.

“When your prosthetist calls, asking why there are so many scratches on that thing, I’m telling him you bait the cat nightly to let her destroy it.” She huffs, pushing his hands away in mock anger as she crawls back into bed.

“At least it has battle scars to match me.” He laughs, his girlfriend hitting him in the chest lightly as he pulls her into him, settling in for the night.

---- I'm sick and I'm writing self indulgent fics for my pleasure, hope y'all like it!

[frombookstoretobookstore]

Call Sign : Half Caff - Part Six

Dr. Abbot x Reader (SPICY)

Tw: It's got some spice, Jack pining over reader.

Part Five : Masterlist

She trails a hand up and digs her hands into the curls at the back of his neck, tugging sharply. He moans and pulls away, trying to calm himself.

“I’m sorry did I…”

“Harder.” He groans, trailing his lips down her neck.

“Wha-What?” She sputters, her focus gone as he nips and sucks at her pulse point.

He groans and stands up straight, looking at her lust filled eyes and puffy lips. He chuckles as he moves a strand of her hair out of her face.

“If you’re going to pull my hair Half Caff, do it harder.” He growls before she’s pulling him back to her and arching up into him.

She has the lapels of his jacket fisted as she pulls him back into her, his hands falling to cup her ass and pull her closer to him. The kiss is messy and heated, an act that admits they’ve been pining over each other for longer than they both care to admit.

Jack moans into her mouth as she wraps her legs around his hips, her heels pushing him even closer. She has her hands back in his hair and she yanks hard, exposing his neck to her. She mimics his earlier movements and sucks at his pulse point. He hisses as his hands trail across her sides and he slides a hand into her hair and pulls her off his neck. Her pupils are blown, and she licks her lips, her hair mussed from his hands. They’re both staring at each other, chests heaving.

Jack’s pulling her up and carrying her towards the couch, his hands digging into her ass. She squeals at the movement as her arms wrap around his neck. He’s pressing her into the couch before he knows it, her hands on either side of his face as he closes the distance between them again.

They’re both panting as they continue kissing, Jack growling as she pulls his waist down into hers. He’s shamelessly grinding into her thigh as she throws her head back with a moan, his lips trailing down her face and neck where they land on her clavicle. He tastes her sweet skin, trailing his tongue over where she had anchored him earlier. He nips and sucks a mark into her skin, a reminder to her, and him, of the anchor point.

“Jack.” Her moaning his name spurs him on, and he moans into her mouth as he slips a hand under her shirt. He traces her soft skin and slides a thumb under her bra to trace the space just below her breasts. He’s got an arm under the small of her back, tugging her closer to him.

He’s trailing his hand down her chest to squeeze her thigh when her phone fucking rings. He lets his head drop into the crook of her neck as he swears. She flails her arm out to find her phone on the coffee table.

“Hello?” She asks out of breath; a stray hand brushing the strands of hair out of her face. Jack looks down at her and holds back a moan at the fucked-out look on her face, her bottom lip back between her teeth.

“He’s doing great actually, thanks for checking in Jeremy. I’ll make sure he gets enough sleep.” Jack sits up between her legs, his right leg tucked slightly under him. He runs his hands along his face and then up into his hair.

She’s still chatting with Jeremy when she reaches out and catches the hand that’s tracing shapes on her thigh, intertwining their fingers. He rests his head on his elbow as he props himself up against the back of the couch.

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Thanks. Bye.” She groans and tosses an arm over her eyes, still out of breath. He squeezes her thigh.

“Jeremy is right, you’re dealing with an adrenaline fallout. You should try to sleep, even though you’re usually up at this time.” She cups his cheek as he leans over her again, kissing her.

“Abbot, I’m serious.” She mumbles against his lips, “As much as I want to continue this it’s been a whirlwind of a day.” She presses a kiss to his cheek as he lowers himself, pulling her against him.

Except this time, it’s different. His face is buried into her neck as he holds her. She wraps her arms around him, anchoring their chests together. She’s pressing kisses against his head when she feels him mumble into her neck. She cups his cheeks and looks up at him, her eyes swimming in his.

“You seriously expect either of us to be able to sleep after this?” He asks, their bodies still intertwined.

She stifles a yawn as they finally reach a quieter, calmer moment together. She’s tracing under his eyes with her thumb, and he leans his face into her touch.

“Rain check?” She asks sheepishly.

His head falls back to the space between her neck and shoulders, her nickname spilling from his lips with a groan. He wants to fight her on this; convince her to keep going with his head between her thighs.

“Rain check.” She tries to say more sternly, the last park coming out in a laugh as he continues tracing her skin with his lips.

She yanks him up to look at her; the firm grip on his curls causing him to moan again.

“Abbot, do you want me to start reciting Jeremey’s care routine for soldiers who’ve just been through PTSD psychosis?”

“Fuck, you really have been listening.” He groans, her hands on his chest forcing him to sit up.

She slides out from under him, smoothing back her hair, and holds a hand out to him. He takes it and allows her to lead him to his bedroom, a groan escaping his lips as his prosthetic digs into his skin again.

“Can’t believe you put that back on just to kiss me.” She scoffs as he sits on the edge of the bed, sliding the prosthetic off and leaning it against the nightstand.

“Half Caff, at this point, I’d put it on just to run to you for a crisp high-five.” His confession lands and she snorts, pulling his black out curtains closed and turning the police scanner volume higher. If she’s surprised, she doesn’t comment that he has three of them set throughout his apartment.

He’s surprised but thankful as she slides into his bed, yanking her jacket off and folding it. His eyes grow cold as he notices the nasty purple and yellow bruising on her ribs that he can see through the thin white tank top she has on. 

She notices his gaze and crosses her arms, pulling the covers up so the bruising is hidden.

“They still don’t know who did it?” He asks, his voice suddenly quiet.

She shakes her head with a soft smile. “Gunnery sarg, you truly won’t ever stop worrying, will you?” She props her head up on her hand, turned on her side to face him.

“Y/n, I’m being serious.”

“And I’m deflecting Jack, it’s three in the fucking morning. You may usually be up at this time, but I’m sure as hell not.” 

“Don’t remember saying you could stay.”

“Don’t remember you saying I couldn’t.” She says as she turns off the lamp on her side of the bed, cuddling in for the night. He reaches out and drags her towards him, tucking her into his side.

“You can stay, I guess. But only if you let me touch you.”

He feels her huff out a laugh as she settles into him, her finger tracing patterns on his chest. “Buy me dinner first Lance Corporal.”

“I’ll do you one better.” He says as he brings her fingers to his lips. “I’ll buy you a coffee Half Caff.”

------------------------------

Unfortunately, this may be where I end the series, a nice calm spot for both of them!

LMK what y'all think.

[frombookstoretobookstore]

Dr. Jack Abbot Masterlist

Callsign: Half Caff Part One: Part Two: Part Three: Part Four: Part Five: Slight spice Part Six: Major Spice

Oneshots: You're In My Spot Cat Dad Abbot You Say That Like You Care : Abbot X Injured Reader In Sickness and In Health : Abbot x Sick Reader A Teaching Moment Jealous!Abbot x Reader The Offer: Abbot x Surgical Tech Reader

Requests: Open

[frombookstoretobookstore]

You're in my Spot

Abbot x (L&D doctor)reader

Summary: Abbot and Reader deal with a difficult birth that has reader questioning whether she wants to continue practicing medicine. Jack comforts her because he doesn't want to lose her.

TWs: difficult birth, blood, mentions domestic violence to paitent, everyone lives!

Masterlist

Abbot sets his jaw as he works, trying to remain headstrong despite the challenging case before him, Shen, and Ellis.

A rig had just pulled up with a 15-year-old girl, in labor, and suffering from major wounds from a domestic dispute. Her baby daddy had pulled a knife on her when she’d asked to be brought to the hospital.

Dr. Walsh barges in, accepting a trauma gown from a nurse as she enters. “The hell.” She curses softly; her usual snarky demeanor gone as she takes in the case.

“Someone get Dr. y/l/n down here! Tell her to bring her NICU teams!” He shouts. “Pack those wounds, as soon as the baby is born, we’ll get her up to surgery for you.” He says to Walsh over his shoulder.

“Born?” Even Walsh is thrown off as she pulls on a pair of gloves, helping Ellis and Shen try and staunch the bleeding.

“I’ve got baby’s head in my hands as we speak.” Abbot says, tuning out the room. He looks to the young girl, scared and in pain before him. “ETA on y/n?” He sharply calls out to a nurse on the phone to L&D, she shoots him a glare, reminding him of his tone.

“We need to move her upstairs for a c-section.” Walsh says, Abbot only grumbling.

“She’ll deliver in the hallway as soon as we move her. Stabilize her and we’ll move once the baby’s born.” He bites out, looking to the nurse still on the phone. God, where the fuck is his backup.

“Abbot.” Walsh warns as she’s packing the abrasions on the young girl’s chest.

Abbot closes his eyes and breathes a sigh of relief as he feels his favorite L&D doctor slide onto a stool next to him. 

“Thank, fuck.” He whispers to her as she takes in the baby’s head he’s supporting. “10 cm dilated and fully effaced in the field.”

“Couldn’t leave my favorite ER Cowboy hanging.” She whispers as she takes over, her NICU team streaming in behind her. 

“Call the blood bank I want as much o-neg as we can get down here. Sweetie, you just focus on breathing, you don’t even need to push, just let your body do the work.” She says as Ellis supports the scared and hurting girl.

“Abbot.” She nods to him, and he takes a seat next to her ready to assist. “I’m going to do my best to deliver this baby and once I’m done, I need you to start hemorrhage protocol. Judging by the blood leaking from her cervix, her uterus got sliced, possibly the placenta.”

They work in tandem to save both lives, each calling out to their respective teams. They’ve done this dance before, often having worked in emergency deliveries and other cases together.

As soon as the baby’s born, Abbot is trading places with y/n as the young girl starts hemorrhaging.

“Come on sweetheart,” He hears y/n cooing softly, cleaning the baby boy off while she rubs him. Abbot feels relief as the baby boy uses his new lungs to shriek.

Abbot takes over as he notices Shen falter slightly, the amount of blood pouring out of the 15-year old’s cervix and the stab wounds to her chest overwhelming the new attending.

“Walsh, you better have an OR ready as soon as we stabilize her.” He’s gritting his teeth, doing his best to do everything he can.

The missing snark from Walsh makes his stomach drop, she can see the damage and doesn’t think the kid will make it.

“Walsh, I swear if I turn around and you aren’t calling an OR to have it ready, I will make your life a living hell.” Y/n says as her team keeps assessing the newborn. Abbot notices the tightness in her shoulders as she works. She knows the chances of the girl bleeding out in the next ten minutes are extremely high, the chances of her making it to an OR low.

Miraculously, they manage to stabilize her enough for Walsh and the other nurses to rush her to surgery, her baby boy already up in the NICU. 

No one has time to process the worst sides of humanity and a birth imaginable before his team is pulled into saving the lives of an MVA. He and the rest of the crew compartmentalize so they can continue saving lives.

He takes the elevator up to the roof to complete his end of shift ritual, to enjoy the new day and the early sunshine. He surprises himself, wanting to enjoy the sun; not to look at the gap between the ledge and the sidewalk below. 

His eyebrows furrow as he takes in her silhouette against the city landscape. He approaches slowly, watching her with her head down, her forearms resting on the guard rails.

“You’re in my spot.” He says softly as he joins her.

She laughs and he pretends he doesn’t see her wipe a tear away from her cheek.

“We saved everyone tonight, talk to me.” He tips his head up at her, giving her room to talk.

“She’s 15-years-old Abbot.” She breathes in shakily. “She came in, already in labor, with wounds from a domestic, and we’re releasing her. We’re releasing her to no housing, no support, no resources, and with a new baby. We barely had the funding, let alone the resources to help her…” She trails off, looking down at her hands as she picks at the skin around her nails.

“It’s just one of those cases that seems to be what’s breaking me. One that drives me closer to just… walking away.”

He lets out a breath as she confesses wanting to leave, maybe go into private practice. His chest grows tight when she mentions wanting to leave medicine all together.

“I know you. You work doubles when the ER dayshift needs an extra set of hands, and I’m sure you’d work a triple if it were legal.” She huffs out a pained laugh. “I’m not so sure you could just walk away.”

“Zip it, Jack Rabbit,” He smiles at her hearing his nickname. “You’d do the same thing. It just so happens I know you have a police scanner. You’re never truly off either.”

“Doc, if you leave…” He trails off, trying to judge whether now is the time to say something, “I know a lot of us are going to feel lost without you. Not just L&D, but also the ER. And… me.” She looks up at him suddenly, his confession catching her off guard. He’s studying the cityscape, avoiding her eyes.

“What?” She breathes, leaning up on her arms, her hands gripping the guard rails.

“You do good here doc, hate to see you leave.” He’s knocking his knuckles across the cold metal of the guardrails, still avoiding her gaze.

She breathes out in a rush, staring up at the blue sky as she feels the sun on her face. She closes her eyes tight against the rush of emotion. She barks out a laugh, Abbot turning to her suddenly, a confused look on his face.

She turns to him with a smirk, “I’m sorry. Did thee Jack Rabbit Abbot just admit he has enough emotions in his cold guarded chest, that he’d miss little old me?” She’s poking him in the chest, and he groans, laying his head down against the cold metal railing.

“I’ll admit it doc, you’ve grown on me. But like a fungus I can’t get rid of.” He pushes himself up, looking at the woman beaming up at him.

“Say it again,” she mutters, crossing her arms.

“Nope.” He turns and starts heading for the elevator, smirking as he hears her cackle behind him.

“Saaaay it! You find me endearing enough that you’d miss me if I left.” She’s jogging to catch up with him, hands in her pockets as he punches the down button on the elevator.

"Doctor y/l/n, if you leave this hospital, I will do whatever it takes to bring you back." He leans in, invading her personal space, his eyes boring into hers. He catches her eyes dip down quickly to his lips. 

He starts to lean down, about to seal their lips together; when she turns with a wicked smirk, bouncing on her toes as she waits for the elevator doors to open.

He lets his head fall against the cool wall, bracing his hands on the railings in the space she’d just taken up.

“You think I’m going to let you just kiss me at work?” She laughs, “Nah you gotta buy me breakfast first.”

“What’ll you let me do if I buy you three meals?” His voice dark, his mind fantasizing.

“Well Jack Rabbit,” she says as the elevator doors open and she starts to walk out. “I’d let you get down on those knees for me.” She briefly glances back at him with a wink as she exits on the second floor, observing his reaction as she proceeds towards L& D. 

The doors close and he sucks in a breath as he chuckles, leaning against the back wall of the elevator as it descends. Little does she know he'd buy her breakfast just to hear her talk. But the chance to get on his knees for her? Shit, he'd buy her the moon.

[frombookstoretobookstore]

Call Sign: Half Caff - Part Five

Reader comforts Abbot after a PTSD episode. Maybe they act on their feelings for each other?

TW: Mentions of PTSD, phantom limb pain, SPICE, there's some suggestive content at the end. 18+

Part Four : Masterlist

Jack doesn’t remember the drive to his apartment, or the elevator ride, or the first half of him and y/n entering his apartment. He comes to again on his couch, head against the back, his right leg iced and propped on the coffee table before him.

The police scanner’s volume is low, and he closes his eyes again and breathes deep, the static and low voices comforting. He shifts his right leg slightly, the burning sensation gone. It’s been replaced by a deep tingling. Phantom limb pain is going to him his bitch the next week. It always did after a PTSD episode.

The couch dips as y/n slips in beside him, a knee folded under her as she hands him a glass of water and a few pills.

“Doubling up with ibuprofen and acetaminophen. Drink that whole glass. Dinner’s almost ready.” She crosses her arms and leans back to watch him swallow the pills.

“So demanding, Half Caff.” His voice is still raw, but she chuckles slightly, shaking her head.

“I’m acting the same way you did last week.” She stands and he hears her rummaging in the kitchen.

“Go home short stack.” He calls out, letting his head fall against the back to the couch again. His stomach betrays him as it growls. He can’t remember the last time he ate.

“In your dreams Sarg.” She sings as she places a steaming plate of rice, chicken, and cooked carrots on the couch next to him. “You really need to go grocery shopping. I’ve seen broke college students with more food in their fridge.”

“You aren’t going to eat?” He asks as she joins him on the couch again, her elbow supporting her head as she leans against the back of the couch facing him.

“I ate at a normal mealtime like a normal person. Unlike you. Did you even eat before the meeting? Suppose it would’ve been breakfast for your owl looking ass.”

He raises an eyebrow at her as he chews. He’s exhausted and he wants nothing more but to sleep and forget everything that’s happened and to never leave his bed ever again.

“Go home y/n.” Her heart flutters as he uses her name. Not a nick name, not a weaponized sarcastic dig; but her name. She inhales at its use, and he smiles at her. That soft, comforting smile. That smile he gave her when she’d started to panic in the ER despite his own fear. The smile he gave her during vet meetings when she felt the emotional weight of a traumatic story. The smile he gave her before he left for his nightshifts. That smile was her everything.

“I’m not going anywhere, Abbot.” She smiles and stands to clean up the kitchen. To remove herself from this situation before she says something stupid. Before she tells him that she wants to be there for him if he needs someone.

She’s busy loading his dishwasher and as she turns back to the stove, she feels him behind her, caging her in. 

“You shouldn’t be standing. You can’t fool me, I know when your leg is hurting.” She’s staring at the space above the stove, trying to reign her heartbeat in as it flutters as she smells him. His laundry soap and cologne clouding her senses. He smells like comfort.

He sighs behind her, a hand trailing down her side before it grips her hip to turn her towards him. The oven door handle digs into her ass. She stares at his chest, afraid to look up.

“Look at me Half Caff.” He whispers, a blush creeps up her cheeks as her stomach flips.

Her breath catches in her throat as he tips her chin up, forcing her eyes to meet him. She hates eye contact with everyone. Everyone but him. She could look into his eyes for the rest of her life. 

His eyes show that he’s concerned, concerned for her. A laugh bubbles up and she places her hands on his chest as her head drops with a laugh.

“Jack, you almost tore a kid apart because he was the most likely suspect for whoever attacked me. You didn’t even think, you acted. You acted so hard and fast you had a PTSD episode...” He groans and starts to pull away, but she drags his gaze back to hers, mirroring his earlier movement. 

“And you’re here, caging me in to ask if I’m, ok?” She laughs and he drops his head.

“What you witnessed…” He starts as he raises his head and lets it fall back, his gaze on the texture of the ceiling.

“Was hard, because I watched someone I care about crack under the pressure. But the fact that you’re ok now, it’s why I’m here. I’m here right now for my own sanity, not because I don’t think you can care for yourself. Partially because I know what it feels like to want to recede and hide after breaking.”

He looks down at her again, concern mirrored on both of their faces.

“I’m here because I care, not because I pity you. I wouldn’t be able to sleep if I had let you come home alone.” Jack’s heart seizes as he notices her eyes are becoming watery.

“Shit Half Caff, if you cry on me, I swear.” He rests his forehead against hers as she huffs out a laugh and sniffs.

“I was scared, Jack. Not of you, but for you. I felt so unprepared I had to go back to Jeremey’s basics.”

She starts babbling about how she could have done better, been better for him; he laughs slightly as she starts spiraling.

“Half Caff?”

“Yeah?”

“Stop talking.”

She purses her lips, and he leans back slightly, her bottom lip trapped between her teeth as she holds back her words. She goes to open her mouth again, probably to mutter some comedy nonsense, and he does the only thing he can think of to silence her.

He kisses her.

At first, she doesn’t move, and he panics. Just as she relaxes into his embrace, her hands softly tracing up his chest to rest on his shoulders, he loses his composure.

He pulls her in by her waist with one hand while the other hand tangles in her hair just at the nap of her neck. She arches up into his and he groans, deepening the kiss. He has her practically bent over the oven, so he lifts and places her firmly on the stovetop. 

She pulls away slightly, chest heaving and lids hooded, “I swear to god if you set my ass on fire by making out with me on your stove, I’ll fucking kill you.” He doesn’t even answer, just reattaches their lips as his hands roam from her hips to her shoulders and across her back.

She trails a hand up and digs her hands into the curls at the back of his neck, tugging sharply. He moans and pulls away, trying to calm himself.

“I’m sorry did I…”

“Harder.” He groans, trailing his lips down her neck.

“Wha-What?” She sputters, her focus gone as he nips and sucks at her pulse point.

He groans and stands looking at her lust filled eyes and puffy lips. He chuckles as he moves a strand of her hair out of her face.

“If you’re going to pull my hair Half Caff, do it harder.” He growls before she’s pulling him back to her and arching up into him.

------------------

Hehe I made them kiss. Requests are open if anyone wants some Jack Abbot x Reader blurbs

Appreciate all of y'all!

[frombookstoretobookstore]

Call Sign: Half Caff - Part Four

Dr Abbot x Reader

TW: PTSD episode, war flashbacks, Abbot crashing out, violence

Part Three : Part Five : Masterlist

Y/n watches helplessly as Jack Abbot shatters. He’s got Ben by the neck and up against the door so fast she barely has time to react. She ignores the burn of her lungs and ribs and is desperately trying to pry him off the kid.

“Jack it isn’t him! He testified and willingly went in for questioning. It wasn’t him!” She’s desperately tugging at his arm, calling his name as she tries to pry him away.

He’s got the rest of the vets behind him letting Jeremy try to break through to him. “Let him go Abbot.” He’s stern and calm, two things that y/n can’t even try to be as she watches Jack’s forearm slide upward, limiting Ben’s oxygen intake.

“Jack, please, stop this!” She reaches up and caresses the side of his face, pleading with the powers that be to break his spell.

Jack stiffens slightly and turns to her; his brown eyes have gone dark as his chest heaves. His breaths come in shallow pants. She hopes he can see the pleading in her eyes, the panic. 

“Back down Jack.” She says softly, watching his eyes flicker to her lips. Can he even hear her?

Just as soon as she’s got him looking at her, he’s resuming his onslaught, his attention back to Ben. The poor kid’s hanging onto Jack’s forearm, trying to pry it away from his windpipe.

Y/n becomes desperate and glances around at the vets behind Jack, all picturesque soldiers as they wait for Jeremy to give them orders.

“To hell with your orders.” She hisses, suddenly remembering a meeting months ago where Jeremy had gone over what to do when a vet gets violent. What to do during a PTSD episode. Is that what this is?

Despite her ribs screaming in pain, y/n steals back and shoves with all her weight into Jack. She remembers this part from Jeremey’s speech. Get the vet away from who they deem a threat. Her chest flares as she does a better job at shaking herself than Jack.

“Abbot back DOWN!” She says sternly. The use of his last name coming from her startles him enough that Jeremy and another vet can pull Ben out from where Jack has him pinned. The kid falls to his knees sputtering and Y/n rushes forward. She doesn’t have a medical degree, but she’s been listening during the meetings. Her brain reels as she tries to remember basic emergency aid. Fuck, Jeremy never covered airways for situations like this. 

“Can you breathe?” She asks, keeping Ben sitting and he frantically nods as he gulps down air, clawing at the ground to keep himself upright. 

“Thank you.” He wheezes, a deep red mark already blooming where Jack had him pinned, GiGi’s next to her in an instant, looking after Ben.

Y/n turns suddenly to check on Jack and her heart plummets to find him on the ground, head between his knees, and hyperventilating. She quickly unlocks her phone and tosses it to Ethan, a vet who had only joined the weekly meetings a few months ago.

“Call the Pitt Trauma Center, get Dr. Robby here now!” Fuck it, if Jeremy isn’t going to give out orders, she will. “He works in the ED; tell him it’s Abbot. I want Ben moved to the ED as soon as possible to get checked out. Gi how’s he looking?” She calls over her shoulder as she kneels, remaining a foot away from where Jack is trying to anchor himself. He’s breaking.

“He’s fine, freaked out but fine, breathing is evening out.” Thank fuck GiGi is with it, the two women quickly getting control of the situation. 

Y/n looks up and finds Ethan talking on her phone. She looks up to another vet waiting nearby, “There are ice packs in the freezer in the back, top left. Grab three and a couple bottles of water from the fridge.” He nods and runs off.

Y/n shrugs her jacket off, leaving her in her thin tank top. She stands and tosses it over a nearby chair as she approaches Jack and Jeremy. She kneels slightly to the right of Jack. She remembers something about being too close can only intensify situations from back when she worked with kids in high school. She situates herself in front of him but off to the side, she doesn’t want him to feel caged in.

“He’s having a PTSD attack. I can’t promise he won’t get violent again.” Jeremey warns as she takes Jack’s freehand. “He’s deep in there right now and he isn’t going to be able to tell what’s real and what his brain is replaying.”

“You know I may have been the only one listening when you talked about intervention techniques.” She huffs. She looks up as the vet returns with two bottles of water and stack of ice packs. Ryan, Ryan’s his name.

“Ryan, I need you to place and hold one of those ice packs against his lower back.” She sees Jeremy offer her a small smile. Proud of her for listening. “Didn’t see you giving out orders. You said that’s one of the harder parts of civilian life. No one’s barking at you and telling you what to do.” Jeremy huffs a laugh as he focuses back in, worry still creasing his forehead as Jack start mumbling.

Jack’s hand responds to her touch, and he grips it, closing his fingers around her hand. “Motor skills responsive.” Jeremy nods, still holding Jack up with a tight grip on his shoulder.

“Ethan, I want you waiting outside the café. Have Dr. Robby enter quietly. Have him check out Ben first.” She says, Ethan nods and walks outside to meet Robby at the entrance.

Jack hisses on a shallow inhale as the cold meets his skin. He’s still muttering, oblivious to what’s real.

“Damn it Abbot, come on.” Y/n hisses, squeezing his hand again. “You’ve got everyone here, it’s ok.” Her own voice shakes as she tries to remain calm as she watches someone that’s been a constant strong point in her life break and succumb to his own brain.

“Abbot, you’re having flashbacks. You aren’t overseas anymore man. You’re here, with us.” Jeremy keeps repeating himself, hoping to get through to Jack. “Come back to us here soldier.”

Y/n inhales against the emotional pain in her chest, tears threatening to spill over her lashes.

“Sergeant Major of the god damn Marine Corps, you’re having flashbacks. We need you back here. I need you back here.” She’s gritting her teeth as Jack continues to hyperventilate and rock slightly. She rests her other hand on his thigh. “We’re right here Jack.”

She doesn’t hear Robby enter the café, but she hears him assessing Ben; he’s got the day shift charge nurse, Dana, with him. She stays with Ben as Robby joins the trio on the floor. Y/n turns away from Jack and Jeremy as a tear slips down her cheek and she grits her teeth. She’s starting to panic. This must have been how Jack felt but at least he understood this better, had a damn medical degree to pull from to treat her.

“Easy there Abbot.” Robby says as he kneels next to y/n, a supportive hand rests on her back as she starts to falter, her balance wavering as her emotions take over.

“Add another ice pack, see if the temperature difference can get his brain to react.” Robby says, nodding to Ryan.

“We’re running out of senses here.” She looks at Jeremy, and he grimaces.

“We’re going to have to let him ride it out then.”

“Fuck it, come on Abbot.” She brings his right hand to her neck, situating his fingers over her pulse point and carotid artery. He must be able to feel her heart pounding out of her chest and neck, she’s sure it would be fast enough to set off an EKG. 

Jack sucks in a breath and slowly raises his head, his eyes fixing on Robby. His coworker offers him a soft smile and a reassuring nod. Jack’s eyes dart around the café, trying to pinpoint any danger, his chest still heaving.

His eyes meet hers and he sucks in another breath as he feels her heart racing. Her hair has fallen into her face and her eyes are grief stricken as she holds his wrist to keep his fingers pressed against her racing pulse. She’s saying something again, but he still can’t hear, the echoes of gunshots and shouts still in his ears.

She shifts his hand from her neck and presses it flat against her chest just below her collar bone. She splays her hand over his, anchoring it. She raises her eyebrows to catch his attention and she’s breathing in deeply. He feels the rise of her chest and the fall of it. He realizes what she’s doing. She’s giving him a visual and tactile way to slow down his breathing. Something to match his to.

He drops his head again and uses y/n’s breathing as an anchor as he tries to slow his own, his throat raw. His eyes burn from the onslaught of memories still lingering in the back of his brain. He coughs against the ache in his chest, his brain still fuzzy from hyperventilating.

He feels like he’s underwater, but he can finally hear the room again. He can hear his ragged breathing but at least it’s slowed. He focuses on the warm, soft, anchoring skin of y/n under his finger pads.

“Get him on his back and elevate his legs. This adrenaline come down will be a bitch.” He hears Robby say and he chokes on a laugh, his lungs too overworked for comedy.

He feels himself being lowered to the ground, a jacket being placed below his head, and his legs being elevated. His stomach flips as he watches y/n expertly remove his prosthetic and set it to the side. She rolls his pant leg away from his stump, already knowing it’s irritated and anything touching it will burn.

“Both pupils responsive to light.” Robby mutters and jack squints at his pen light.

“I had a panic attack Robby; I didn’t fall and give myself a concussion.” Jack groans, his senses finally returning to him.

“Cut the crap captain.” Y/n huffs from his side, his right hand clasped in her own, grounding him further. He huffs and turns away as his right leg starts to burn. He grits his teeth and tries to ignore it. He breathes in deeply, the scent of y/n suddenly overtaking his senses. She’s put her fucking jacket under him, and it smells divine. Her shampoo fills his nostrils as he tries to breathe through the pain, he feels himself slipping again.

She’s squeezing her hand, calling his name. He squints against the light and looks up at her.

“Let’s get you home, Staff Sergeant.” She’s smiling but her eyes give her away. She’s just as exhausted as he is. Her hair has fallen out of where she’d secured it and it’s fanning over her face. He fights himself to not reach out and brush it out of her eyes.

Robby and Jeremey are righting him, and he groans against the pain in his leg. “Not sure I trust your driving abilities Half Caff.” He laughs slightly as he leans into Jeremy.

“Yeah well, I happen to be the only one who drove tonight. I mean, unless you want to crawl home.” She’s smirking at him, his prosthetic in her arms, leaning against her shoulder.

“Fuck off, Half Caff.”

“Never, Gunnery Sergeant.”

------------------------

Yeah I need them to kiss soon (says the person writing it). Hope y'all like it!

[frombookstoretobookstore]

Call Sign: Half Calf - Part Three

(Pretty sure I should apologize for the angst that's going to be the next three parts but meh)

TW: protective Abbot, violence, PTSD.

Part One : Part Two : Part Four : Part Five : Masterlist

Y/n sits on a stool the following Thursday. Glaring at nobody as she’s been relegated to sit still and do nothing like a shitty art installation. Jeremy and the other vets have been incredibly welcoming, and she’s earned a few new callsigns, ‘spitfire’ from Jeremy had stuck and she secretly loves it. However, after being bedridden for the last week with nothing to do, she’d convinced her cousin to drop her off at today’s meeting, promising to take it easy.

Her cousin had followed every instruction to the letter. Something that was probably great medically, but it drove y/n crazy. The first few days had been hell as her cousin (and her cat) had woken her up every few hours, blocked out any light, and removed any stimulus while her brain rested. She’d started going crazy by the end of it.

While getting discharged, Jack had indeed crept by and investigated the room. Y/n had raised both her hands to flip him off, something that he only smiled and laughed at as he walked away. If she still hadn’t been high on pain meds, she would have flown into a rage when she’d found his fucking phone number written on the plastic evidence bag her bloody and cut clothes had been put in for her to take home. She’d ignored it (even if she did save his number to his phone) only to learn a few days later that GiGi had shared her number with him. She’d sent him the middle finger emoji when he’d asked routine follow-up questions.

She was so busy watching her feet swing on the stool she didn’t notice Jack until he was closing in on her space, his presence imposing with her sitting lower. She did her best not to think about what his abs looked like under his black scrub top. She craned her neck to look up at him, her eyebrows raised.

“I swear if you or anyone else asks me how I’m feeling I’m going to swan dive off this stool.” She huffs, bringing her attention back to the room, watching Jeremy and a few others set up.

“Actually, I was going to ask why GiGi keeps you around since I clearly don’t need a volunteer to pour me my coffee.” He laughs as he dramatically pours coffee from the pot next to where she was leaning against the front counter. She hits him right in the stomach with a satisfying ‘thunk’ her stomach twists as her hand meets resistance. Yup, pure muscle under there.

“You never answered what were clearly medically inclined questions I texted you.” He laughs as she grumbles.

“You’re so full of yourself aren’t you.” She smirks up at him. “Gets promoted to Senior Airman and he thinks he’s top shit.” She blows a laugh out her nose as he mocks offense as he looks down at her.

“Someone finally learned the ranks of other military branches, congrats.” He laughs as he drinks his coffee. He savors the taste of the blend he knows she keeps warm for the two of them for these meetings.

“When I was really depressed last fall, I was desperate to stay home. As soon as work told me I had to stay home because of my injuries, I about damn near lost my mind. I’ve been out of work seven days, and it almost drove me nuts. Bless my cousin but her medical anxiety was wigging me out.”

“That wasn’t her anxiety that was yours don’t try to put it off on her.” He laughs into his mug as she fixes him with a glare, knowing he’s right.

“Fuck off.” She laughs, wincing at the effort it puts on her still sore ribs. She glances at him as he stills at her discomfort.

“I swear if you pull out your stethoscope on me right now, I will spill a very hot pot of coffee on you. You’ll be swinging into your place of work asking for the burn unit.” He groans as she deflects again.

“Do you ever drop the deflecting comedy act?” He asks, setting his mug down while he leans against the display counter with his arms crossed, fixing her with his own glare.

“Only during sex.” She smirks into her mug as he coughs and clears her throat.

“Careful Half Caff, you’re about to sail into some dangerous waters. I work with nurses, and they have just about the dirtiest comebacks you’ve ever heard of.” He clears his throat again as he watches her watch the room.

“So private first-class thinks he can play with the big dogs now huh?” She smirks and he scoffs at her.

“Ranking me so low, not nice.”

“Low is where I like my men.” She winks as she gingerly stands. She walks into the back room and throws him a smirk over his shoulder, his surprise no doubt blazing on his face. “You aren’t going to win this!” She calls over her shoulder. The doors into the back room swinging on their hinges.

He joins the rest of the group in their usual conversation circle. He has a hard time listening. He’s leaning forward in his chair, forearms on his knees, as he keeps glancing at the doors of the back room.

“We all no doubt, have heard about what happened last week to our favorite volunteer.” Jermey says tuning Jack back into the conversation. 

“Cops are still trying to find who attacked her, but I think it goes without saying that one of us should stay until close. I don’t like the idea of anyone being out and about alone, especially at night. Jack covers his smirk with his hand, knowing that both GiGi and Y/n would put up a fight to anyone staying to ‘protect’ them.

“Security footage didn’t help them identify who it was?”  Another Vet asks, Jack remembers him from past meetings.

“The angle wasn’t right, and it was dark. Plus, whoever did it had their hood up.” Jeremy says before bringing the conversation back to the usual things they discuss.

That night after the meeting, everyone stays to help clean up and put things back in order, GiGi smirking from the counter as the vets argue about where furniture goes. Y/n isn’t far away as she leans against the display case smiling as she watches the vets squabble amongst themselves.

The bell above the door rings and most of the group stops and looks up. Jack only turns to look when he hears murmuring from around him. He looks up and sees red.

There in the doorway is Ben, the hood of his blue sweatshirt pulled up against the drizzle outside. Jack is on him before he can think. He pushes his forearm into the chest of the kid and backs him up against the door he had just come in, his head hits the wall with a sickening thud. Jack is staring down at him with a snarl.

The silhouette of Ben when he’d just stood in the doorway looked almost the same as the one he’s seen in the security footage GiGi showed him a week ago. The same right down to the large hood pulled over the kid’s head.

He doesn’t hear anything but the high-pitched whine in his ears. He’s debating whether to turn the kid in or put him down himself while he has his hands on him. He can hear the shouting from his comrades in arms behind him, a few arms trying to tug him off the kid.

His forearm is dangerously close to cutting off all of Ben’s oxygen, something Jack doesn’t care about. 

“Let him choke.” He thinks, a dangerous smirk on his face as he stares into the terrified eyes of Ben. He isn’t going to let up anytime soon.

He flinches slightly as a soft hand settles on his cheek, dimming his rage and he glances to his left, finding y/n’s eyes wide, and frightened. His chest is heaving as he turns his attention back to Ben, he fully intends to hurt him. Payback for what he did to y/n. Her wounds flashing before his eyes.

A rough shove that jostles whoever throws their weight into him more than him has him turning again. Y/n’s mouth is moving but he can’t hear what she’s saying. His brows furrow as he tries to read her lips, the change in his focus enough for Ben to slip out of his grasp. No, Ben is pulled out from under him as Jack is pulled back.

The implications of what he was about to do hits him like a freight train and he stumbles back, Jeremy helping lower him to the ground. Jesus he was about to kill the damn kid. Jeremy helps him lower his head between his knees as his breaths become rapid and fast. He still can’t hear anything around him. Only his heartbeat whooshing through his ear drums.

Jack squeezes his fists tight, a few of his knuckles cracking as he feels an uncomfortable but familiar wave start to crash against him. A tear streaks down his nose and drops to the floor as Jack realizes he’s about to have a PTSD attack, something he hasn’t had to deal with in two years. His left arm seizes up and he tightly grabs Jeremy’s forearm where it rests on his shoulder in a sad attempt to anchor himself. His friend squeezes his shoulder firmly, understanding what’s about to happen.

Jack squeezes his eyes tight against the memories, the sounds, the smells, that cover his vision. The painful memories of losing his friends, watching his fellow comrades die before he can even begin to save them, the smell of the explosion as he’d laid in the desert, alone and injured.

He’s crying and shaking like a leaf in an autumn breeze, and he tries to fight his brain telling him how pathetic he is right now. Crouched on the floor, rocking, and being held by a grown man as he weeps. The memories keep coming. Every patient he’s been unable to save, the children that have died in his arms. 

He’s officially breaking, and he hates himself for it. He’s showing all his cards, all his baggage to people he considers strangers. He can’t breathe. He can feel the pain in his chest from breathing too hard and his head has gone fuzzy from the lack of oxygen. He grips Jeremy’s arm harder and tries to anchor himself in whoever is holding his hand. Someone’s trying to comfort him, and he can’t help but feel it’s all in vain. He’s breaking and he isn’t sure he can come back from it.

----------------------------------

Unfortunately I stayed up most of the night writing the next three parts as pure angst before it becomes fluffy again. I should probably apologize but nah. Lmk what y'all think!

[frombookstoretobookstore]

Call Sign Half Caff: Part Two

(Ok so y'all really liked that and I'm freaking flattered. I'll keep writing if you'd like. I do want to add maybe a small amount of spice later in the series.)

TW: Blood, punctured lungs, medical inaccuracies, broken ribs. Reader was attacked.

Part 1 : Part 3 : Masterlist

Jack’s right leg already throbs. He curses as he and Robby descend the last set of stairs and reenter the ED. They both need to stop starting and ending their shifts on the roof.

“Myrna’s back as well. She’s in a particularly bad mood so steer clear of her.” Robby says as they approach the main desk of the ED.

“Go. I’ll hold down the fort. Just don’t be late tomorrow morning.” Jack laughs as he nudges Robby towards the door. Before he can reassure Robby again, one of the newer med students, Dr. King, bolts past them towards one of the trauma rooms. She pushes aside the curtain, and the panic-stricken face Jack sees sends his stomach dropping.

GiGi, the owner of his favorite coffee shop, sends him a pleading look. Before he can even think, he’s running towards the trauma room, Robby following closely at his heels.

He freezes as he takes in the cursing and battered woman before him. He all but pushes Dr. Shen out of the way as he dodges the flying hands of y/n.

“Half Caff the fuck happened?” He growls as he tilts her head up to inspect her swelling and bruised eye. She coughs slightly and he notices the blood filling her mouth. He’s barking orders even as Robby asks him to stand down.

“Gunnery Sergeant I am fine!” She smacks his hands away, another cough makes her chest feel like it’s full of broken glass. “It’s just a black eye.” He grabs her wrists and pins them to her sides as Robby starts using his pen light to test her pupil reactivity. She squints and turns from the light.

“Female, late 20s, attacked in an alley. Suspected concussion, broken ribs, displaced nose...” Dr. Shen’s voice fades out as Jack doesn’t even see red, he sees the harm covering y/n’s body. He’s trying to swallow his panic and fear. With the damage done to her torso, she shouldn’t even be able to sit up, let alone fight him.

“I found her in the alley, and she fucking asked me to take her home. Said it was just a concussion.” GiGi says, as Jack forces y/n to lay down, her rattling breaths growing more forced.

“Abbot, stop, I’m fine.” She wheezes; her eyes panicked. 

His heart sinks. She never uses his last name. Always Jack or some form of army rank. Never Abbot. He doesn’t even need to pull his stethoscope from around his neck to know that one of her lungs is punctured.

She’s gulping for air as she tries to keep her comedy going. He knows as soon as she starts acting serious over her condition, she’ll break and panic.

“Hey, hey!” Abbot says sternly as he lets Robby take over. He’s got her hand clenched between both of his; he tries not to panic as he notices the blood on his gloves. Her blood literally on his hands.

“You’ve got quite a bit of damage there Half Caff.” She smiles weakly at her nickname. “You’ve got way more than a fractured nose.” He pauses as Robby shoots him a look after inspecting her ribs. He shakes his head no, not broken.

“It’s not that big of a deal I’ll be fine I just need to go home…” He’s shushing her as she starts to panic.

“You are not going home right now. In a bit, but not right now.” He tries to keep himself and her sanity anchored as he pulls her attention back to him as she glances around the room.

“You’re Robby.” She coughs out noting Robby’s badge, a sad laugh rattles her lungs. “You should be going home. Sorry to barge in.”

Robby smiles softly, still listening to her lungs battle for oxygen. “We’ll have some proper introductions later, stop talking you’re just going to make your lungs worse.”

Abbot glances up as Dr. King pushes morphine through y/n’s IV, her eyes becoming glassy as the pain med kicks in.

“Private here has told me a bit about you.” She spits the blood out of her mouth into the metal tray Abbot’s placed by her head.

“Still talking.” Robby raises his eyebrows at Abbot. “Someone’s a fighter.”

“Almost fought someone at the meeting today. Another person angry they missed all the action.” Jack says as he listens to Dr. Shen order a round of scans. “Add a CBC and an MRI.” Shen shoots him a look. 

“I got beat up, you aren’t looking for POTS, cancel the CBC.” Y/n mumbles, wrinkling her nose as the nasal cannula is placed, supplementing her oxygen. Jack scoffs as she uses her one piece of medical trivia against his orders.

“Respiratory rate is down with a higher oxygen percentage, pulse normal.” Dr. King calls, Jack feels a small amount of relief cool his body and mind. 

“Don’t.” He says sternly as he notices y/n about to open her mouth again. “Cut the comedy you’re fine.” She rolls her eyes and raises an eyebrow at him. He’s still got her hand clasped.

“Course of treatment for a punctured lung Dr. King.” Robby asks.

“Of course I’m a fucking teaching case. Don’t go into the abbey kids.” He squeezes her hand to silence her.

“If the CT scans show a small puncture, aspirate with a 14-gauge needle, provide pain medication, oxygen therapy if necessary, and ensure the patient rests.” Dr. King recites, her hands clasped in front of her.

“She’s stable, let’s get her to CT.” Robby says as he starts to remove his gloves, Dr. Shen and King begin wheeling y/n out.

“See you in a bit.” Jack says, finally releasing her hand. She gives him a watery smile, clearly feeling the full effects of the morphine.

He rubs the back of his neck as Robby looks at him and GiGi. He doesn’t think he’s showed this much emotion in the ED, or ever.

“What the hell happened?” Robby asks, the question pointed at GiGi.

“I don’t know! I was right behind her but by the time I was out with the recycling she was already on the ground. She wouldn’t let me call an ambulance; said we were only a block away.” 

“You have cameras pointed at the back door?” Jack asks, already noting in his head how he wants to police to handle this.

“I already handed the footage over to the sheriff posted outside. Once she’s back he’ll take a statement.” GiGi says, motioning back towards the ambulance bay they’d come in.

Jack’s normal nonchalance and composed demeanor is gone. He runs his hands through his gray curls as his mind starts reeling. Thinking only of Ben at the meeting earlier in the night. He tries to remember if he saw him leave before him.

He doesn’t realize he’s zoned out until Robby’s snapping his fingers in his face.

“You going to be able to work this shift? Or should I call someone else in.” He’s got his hands on his hips as he assesses Jack.

“I’ll be fine.” Jack nods.

“Are you sure?” Robby’s tone is stern. “Because I’ve never seen you come that close to breaking before. I’m not sure you can let this go and be competent enough for the next eleven hours of your shift.”

Jack fixes him with his signature neutral face. “She’ll kill me if I don’t.” He may not know all of y/n’s life story, but he knows her well enough to know she’ll be pissed at him if he tries to stick with her while she’s still here. Guilty even if he pulls himself off the shift and she learns he wasn’t out helping people.

Jack clears his throat, “I’ll be fine. After the CT and with the meds they’ll give her, she’ll sleep the rest of the night as she stays for observation. I’ll have someone take over for Dr. King. You both should have left long ago.” He crosses his arms and raises an eyebrow, daring Robby to call his bluff.

Robby rubs his hands over his face, digging his fingers into his eyes. “If I hear otherwise, I’ll rip you a new one. GiGi, go the hell home. It’s Thursday and you’re always there for bedtime with your nieces.” She nods, hesitant to leave her friend in the ER alone.

“Go, and tell your brother to pull his shit together, we need his expertise back as soon as we can get it.” Jack says. “Get out of here Gertrude.”

She smiles softly and points a finger at him, “I swear our parents picked the worst names. Frank and Gertrude. Last I heard he’s doing good and in outpatient. Either of you call me by my full name again, I’ll show you how I got my little brother to do my liking when we were kids”

As the elder Langdon leaves, Robby claps Jack’s shoulder. “She’ll be fine. That friend of yours is tough, she shouldn’t have been so talkative with the bruising to her ribs. My guess is the pneumothorax is small enough it’ll heal on its own. She’ll be in pain and probably has a concussion. I know we’ve seen worse.”

“She’s a friend though.” Jack only needs to mutter to make his point. Any other patient they’d have been in and out without a second thought. Now all he can think about is what she must have looked like, what she must have felt laying on the ground alone and scared. He knows it’s stupid, but he should have been there. Should have been there to protect her.

--

He keeps his promise. Sort of. He keeps his head in the game and deals with all the curve balls the night shift sends him. However, there’s that one part of his brain that keeps his worry for her active. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t check on her every so often. He trusts Dr. Ellis’s care, but this case is different. He doesn’t check on y/n because he doubts her care, he checks on her because he cares. And deeply at that.

“She’s awake and I guarantee she’ll kill you if you poke your head in. I saw you counting her breathing reps.” Lena, the night shift charge nurse, looks at him over her glasses. He grunts in response and sits down to chart. His nervousness given away by his left leg repeatedly bouncing.

“Heard she’s a tough one.” He turns to find Lena smiling.

“Don’t start.” He warns. He can smell the gossip and the potential of a new betting board.

“If she’s fighting against care and claiming she’s fine with six bruised ribs and a partially punctured lung, I think she can handle her few more hours of observation.”

“She’s getting discharged?” Jack asks, quickly scouring the board for her file number to glance through.

“Once her ride is here.” Lena’s got a smirk on her face. The news of how he reacted to y/n’s injuries (and the emotion he showed) will be the talk of the nurses’ station tomorrow.

He grumbles again as he tries to make himself look busy while pretending to chart. Once Lena walks away to tend to a patient, he’s up and pulling the curtain aside to check in on y/n.

“Get out of here Sergeant major.” She groans from the hospital bed, a hand raised to shield her eyes (eye) from the light. He closes the door and curtain behind him. He’s logging into the computer to look at her scans again while she continues grumbling at him.

“You were attacked, so sorry for caring short stack.” He smiles as she scoffs at him.

“Jack Abbot I will somehow manage to reach my feet and peel these grippy socks off to throw at you. I swear if you don’t get out there and do something other than watch me, I’ll make sure you never get coffee from GiGi’s café again.”

He only hums in response, his words failing him as he takes in her bruised form. Her eye has fully swollen shut and will probably still be once she’s discharged.

“Sheriff come in?” He asks as he peeks at her meds, fiddling with the saline bag to keep his hands busy.

“You’ve already asked me that. I’m concussed, not stupid.” She goes to cross her arms in defiance, a low whine makes it past her lips before she aborts the movement.

“Your ribs will hurt for the next few weeks. The puncture in your lung should heal on its own. Even though your concussion is minor you need…” She cuts him off her voice low but stern.

“To not sleep for too long and should have someone monitor me for the next few days. You know I was listening when Ellis was talking. I also happen to be able to read so I can peruse the discharge paperwork.” He shoves his hands in his pockets and shifts his weight to his left foot.

“Your leg is bothering you. Go eat something and take some meds. Also get the hell out of my face.” She has a soft smile on her face as she turns the concern back to him. His heart flips as she manages to turn the situation back to him while she lays there injured.

“I’ll try my best to check on you before you’re discharged.” He smiles, his pulse picking up as she winks at him.

“Don’t. Go do your job. Also stick with Half Caff. You call me a stack of short again and I’ll be sure to throw your leg at you at the next meeting.” He snorts at her attitude.

He reaches the door but stops and turns. His pulse thrumming in his ears.

“If you give me your fucking phone number to ‘call you with any questions’, I’m going to throw up.” She wheezes out a laugh as he launches a pen at her.

“I hope you have weird dreams you menace.” He says as he finally leaves the room, a stupid smirk plastered to his face.

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I'll try to set up my asks if anyone wants me to write some blurbs. Thanks y'all!

[frombookstoretobookstore]

Call Sign: Half Caff : Part One

(Alright I’m new to writing please don’t judge me. I HAD to start writing because of The Pitt. Mild spoilers if you haven’t finished the show)

TW: reader is attacked at the end. I had to make it dramatic sorry.

Part Two : Masterlist

She’s putting almost all of her focus into refilling her coffee mug, she hardly notices him entering the small cafe. It isn’t until he plops his travel mug onto the counter before her that she looks up from staring at the precious coffee falling into her mug. She raises an eyebrow at him as she sets her mug down and holds her hand out for his.

“Evening Half Caff.” He smirks, using his call sign for her. Her short stature and reliance on caffeine had only caused him to double down on the nickname. When she had first protested it.

She only grunts as she fills his mug from the coffee pot sitting on the edge of the counter. She hands it off to him as she grabs a tray of various baked goods sitting on top of the espresso machine and he follows her as she moves to set them up at the folding table that’s dragged out for these meetings.

Every Thursday night the local coffee shop closes its doors to customers and opens it for the local Veteran’s Affair office. One a week, veterans of all ages and branches gather. Part of the night is devoted to mingling, friends old and new talking about their week. The second part of the night has a darker hue. Chairs are dragged to the middle of the shop and set up in a circle. It reminds y/n of an alcoholics anonymous meeting: everyone sharing the tragedies they’ve witnessed, the fellow comrades they’ve lost both overseas and at home, and the struggle of integrating back into civilian life after having been in some of the toughest conditions the world has to offer.

It’s how her and Jack met. Not that she’d ever seen combat or boot camp. Not in terms of military service at least. After struggling with her mental health, her therapist had recommended volunteer work, something routine and low stakes that wasn’t another job. She’d offered to donate her time to her local coffee shop, setting up and taking down for group activities twice a week. A book club on Tuesdays, and the veteran meetings on Thursdays. She’d often help set up and take down for special events the café held; like when the middle school’s theater club had asked to borrow the space for brainstorming set design.

Jack’s eyebrows furrow as he looks at her, noting her usual cheery appearance gone and replaced with sharp sarcasm and deflection.

“Not enough caffeine?” He asks her, noting her usual grace being replaced with something that resembles stomping.

“You’ve got another one tonight. Blue sweatshirt on your six.” She nods over to where a newcomer has caught one of the older vets in conversation.

“Oh no. That’ll be the third one this month.” Jack groans as he notices the cocky behavior of the kid who must only be twenty. His army buzz haircut still fresh. He leans against the wall next to the table. Trying to hide his smirk behind his cup as she continues to grumble while setting out more muffins and scones next to the containers of coffee.

They referred to these kind of people as “OMBs” or ‘one-month babies’. These individuals got the wrong idea of war from obsessing over army video games as young kids and teenagers. Often coming from heavy right leaning families, these individuals joined the numerous branches of armed service not to serve their country, but to fuel their ego. These meetings had been hosts to numerous individuals who were more upset that they hadn’t had the chance to shoot someone, than they were over the small stipend they received once back on US soil.

“How bad?” Jack said, turning to her as she braces her hands on the table. She winces and sighs.

“Three weeks on a German base as custodial. I think boot camp has been the hardest thing he’s been through.” She turns and crosses her arms, glaring at the back of the kid.

“So, nothing compared to the rest of these guys.” He smiles and raises his coffee mug as a familiar army buddy of his passes to grab a seat.

“Oh, my fucking god.” She hisses though gritted teeth. Jack winces as he watches the kid toss a muffin wrapper on the floor as he continues talking, the two vets he’s dragged into conversation raise their eyebrows and share a look.

“Damn, if I didn’t work, I’d take you to dinner tonight to make up for his bullshit.” She laughs at his joke. They’ve made this joke for months; often joking about getting dinner after the meetings despite Jack working the nightshift at the hospital just down the road. Y/n gives him a once over, secretly enjoying the way Jack’s black scrubs look, his white badge a stark contrast to the rest of his outfit.

“Hit him with the one two guilt trip.” She all but sneers, causing Jack to laugh into his mug. He holds it out and she refills it.

“That bad huh?” He turns to her with a smile, she smirks up at him.

“He called me ‘coffee girl’. If you don’t take it off, I’m ripping it off and throwing it at him after a fat knuckle sandwich.”

“Alright easy Half Caff, go read your book behind the register and I’ll see what I can do.” He bumps her with his shoulder as he shoots her a smile and makes his way to gather with everyone else in the middle of the dining area.

The meeting starts as they usually do. Jeremy, a navy veteran who did two tours, opens the conversation with his usual story. How he lost three of his friends overseas to violence, and one here in the states as they succumbed to their PTSD and trauma.

Jack shoots a look over to y/n behind the register as the new kid, Ben, immediately starts a rant about how more violence is needed. Jack starts to see red as Ben goes on about using violence to thwart foreign governments and the need for additional troops to bring down resistance to US soldiers. 

Jack leans forward in his chair, rubbing at his calf. He interrupts Ben, “What’s the worst thing you saw while over there in Germany?” He doesn’t look up to see Ben’s reaction as he rolls his pant leg up slowly.

When he’s met with silence he looks up and finds the new kid staring at his leg as Jack slowly removes his prosthetic. He massages the spot where his mid-calf and the prosthetic rub, an irritant he knows will never go away. The new kid only opens and closes his mouth like a fish.

“That bad huh?” Jeremy says, covering a small laugh with a cough as he catches on to what Jack is doing. Ben clears his throat and looks away as Jack replaces the prosthetic, offering the kid a small smile. Another vet launches into a story on his struggles reintegrating into civilian life, having only been back from Iraq for two weeks. 

Jack glances back to the register where y/n offers a small smirk and mouths ‘thank you’ to him, he nods. He’s thankful for her, not many civilians understand the struggles of coming back, of facing the music. She’s dealt with OMBs almost as much as he has, something he struggles to accept. He often brings these individuals up to his therapist. How can someone who got so lucky in their overseas assignment get so angry they didn’t see the true horrors of war?

The meeting wraps up and he stands to stretch his back. He makes his way back to y/n for one last top off on his coffee mug. She fills his mug over the register and smiles.

“Be safe Lance Corporal.” She says with a smirk, he smiles. She often throws out whatever army rank she can remember when referring to him. Something he’s sure is payback for her Half Caff nickname. Something he considers her callsign.

“Always am Half Caff. See you next Thursday.” He secures the lid on his travel mug and raises it in thanks. He leaves the café and turns right, making his way towards the hospital to relieve the day shift workers.

She chuckles and shakes her head as he leaves. She begins to busy herself with clean up, gladly accepting help from Jeremy as she and the café owner, GiGi, start to put everything back into its rightful place.

Sometime later, the café is back to normal, chairs and tables back to their places, dishes washed, and coffee mugs stacked neatly and ready for the following morning rush.

“Can you grab the trash? I’ll take out the recycling in a bit before I lock up.” GiGi says, sweeping her hair out of her face as she jots down notes for the morning crew.

“On it!” Y/n calls as she grabs one of the bags and swings the other over her shoulder, backing into the back room to toss the garbage out into the dumpsters of the back alley. 

She’s too busy making a to-do list in her head to see it coming. She tosses one bag into the open dumpster from the top of the small staircase and is about to throw the other when she’s grabbed from behind and wrenched into the guardrails.

She groans as she’s thrown down the rest of the stairs, a well-aimed punch lands on her jaw, and she sees white as the pain burns through her body. She’s so out of it she barely feels the two kicks bash her ribs in, her breath becoming ragged.

She gasps on the ground, gravel digging into her side and cutting her face. Her vision swims as she sees the quickly receding footsteps as whoever attacked her runs off. She wheezes, her mouth gaping as she tries to call for help.

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Idk, y'all want part two?