Chapter Text
The sun was creeping up over the horizon, gleams of gold filtering through the city line as Dennis leant back against the ambulance bay wall, waiting for Jack. It was hard not to turn Sophia’s case around in his mind, inspecting and considering it from different angles. He had seen the bodies of many people in all sorts of states, but sexual violence to children was something that got carved into your brain.
However, Dennis had the gratifying knowledge that her and Katie were up in the pediatric ward, safe and resting. The older sister had joined Sophia onto her bed, the rails up so neither would tumble off in their sleep. It was a peaceful sight, rest that both girls needed, and Dennis felt that knot in his chest loosen, knowing there were in good hands. And if there was one good thing about the night shift, it was feeling the daylight on your skin, imagining it was washing away the aches and horrors that had occurred over the night. He was cleaned by sunlight.
“Sup, Huckleberry.”
Dennis turned his sightless gaze from the ground to where Trinity was stepping out of the ER into the bay. Straightening up, Dennis pushed off the wall to give her a smile, “Hey, Trin. Had a good evening?”
Coming to stand next to him, the woman nodded, “Yeah, not bad. There’s some left over soup in the fridge if you want some.”
A warmth flowed through him at her kindness even as Dennis shook his head, “No, I’m going to breakfast.”
“Shut up!” Trinity punched his shoulder, smirk appearing, “Who with? Hot patient?” At her waggling brows, Dennis scoffed.
“My patients are kids, Trin.” He deadpanned, making the woman grimace.
“Shit, that’s right. A parent?”
Dennis opened his mouth to answer her interrogation. However, he was cut off by Jack calling his name.
They turned as one to the attending, a bag slung over his shoulder as he approached him. It wasn’t correct to say that Jack had a swagger, but there was a certain confidence in the way he moved that had always made Dennis’ heart quicken in beat. And even after a long twelve hours, the older man still managed to look handsome, greying hair curled and glinting under the hospital street lights. He gave a nod to a speechless Trinity, “REBOA. Better get inside, you’ve got some fun cases today.”
Her eyes darted between Dennis and Jack, and the younger man knew he was going to be sat down later that evening and give the full report to her. Trinity’s eyes were glinting from how interesting that conversation was going to go, tossing a ‘have fun’ to Dennis as she hurried into the Pitt.
Biting back a smile, Dennis tilted his head up as Jack stepped closer. He loved the way his green eyes crinkled, the crow feet deep and making the freckles around them shift. God, this man was covered in freckles, Dennis had spent many daydreams wondering how far they went.
“Good rest of your shift?” Jack murmured, and Dennis ignored the fluttering in his stomach at how low his voice went.
“Mhm,” Dennis nodded, gripping the strap of his bag tightly in order to hold back the urge to drag Jack down into a kiss, “Sophia and Katie were sleeping when I last left saw them. And one of my teen patients had an asthma attack in their sleep. But they’re alright n-now…” He finished on a stutter, eyes widening as he glanced down.
A finger traced down Dennis’ forearm, a surprise of contact that made hims shiver, before a hand took his own hand. It was like a choir was singing, ‘YOU’RE HOLDING JACK ABBOT’S HAND’ in his mind as Dennis tried not to faint from how hot his face went.
“C’mon,” Jack murmured, guiding him to begin walking away from the ambulance bay, “I’m starving.”
Dennis probably would have tripped and fallen flat on his face if not for his hand being clasped firmly in Jack’s. He had thicker fingers, but was equally calloused as his own, just different placement. Dennis realised he could probably spend hours tracing them.
God, Trinity had been right. He’s down bad. Real bad.
Thankfully, the diner was not too far from the hospital, a five minute walk that was spent with Dennis enjoying the sunlight and internally screaming over being asked out by his crush. Was this the high school experience he had missed out on? And whilst Dennis was lost in this mental spiral of incoherent gibbering, Jack was commenting on his evening.
Apparently, there had been no patients that came in with objects up their ass, much to Doctor Ellis’ annoyance. The bets taken place in the Pitt were kind of ridiculous, and Dennis was a little relieved he wasn’t a topic on that board of doom.
Mentioning that, Dennis then added, “I think that record of seven scrub changes during the last week of my rotation was insane. I should have earned all those bets due to compensation.”
There was a smirk on Jack’s face as they approached the diner door, “Who said you’re not still on that board?”
Dennis’ brain froze and it was only because of his hand in Jack’s that had him stepping through the door instead of standing outside like an idiot. Tugged along to a both, Jack guided him to one as he took the other side. Amusement was still glinting in the other man’s eyes, forearms braced on the table as he leant in slightly.
It drew his attention to Jack’s biceps, and Dennis couldn’t decide if he was envious or lustful. Both were sins but Dennis had long since gotten rid of most of his religious hang-ups. Snatching up a menu to hide behind, Dennis tried to settle his heart as Jack began to initiate a game of footsie.
“What can I getcha?” The waitress asked, coming over.
Coffee was a terrible idea, something both him and Jack silently agreed on as Dennis requested a raspberry ice tea and Jack said just some water.
Once left alone again, Jack inquired, as he locked Dennis’ ankle between his feet, “So how long do you think you and Santos are going to roommate for?”
Shrugging, Dennis replied as he continued to scan the menu, “Until she kicks me out. Or murders me. Either one is possible.”
“Hate you that much?”
And here, Dennis faltered, darting his eyes up to Jack before back down. “No. I don’t think she hates me. We’ve had some very drunken heart-to-hearts, and for my own sanity I figured it’s best to believe some of the nice stuff she says when shit-faced.”
Chuckling, the attending finally got his own menu, assessing the offerings, “Now, that is more believable. Should hear some of the stories she talks about when we’re on shift together.”
Groaning, Dennis begged, “Please don’t believe anything she says.”
Jack pulled on a faux-disappointed look, “You saying you don’t cook a mean chili?”
“Okay, that’s true.” Dennis admitted with a pleased smile, “My mama made sure I knew everything she did about cooking and whatnot.”
“Oh?”
At the sudden interest and intense focus, Dennis stifled down his blush as he stumbled over his words a little, “Y-yeah. She uh, she wanted a daughter. After four boys, I gedit.” He laughed, shaking his head and reminiscing over those childhood days, “And I wasn’t like my brothers, not as rough’n’tumble, yknow? I-I mean, I learnt to hold my own with ‘em, but I enjoyed cookin’ with my mama.”
There was a soft smile playing on Jack’s lips. “You’re accent is coming out.”
Flushing, Dennis ducked behind the menu again, “Ughh, don’t. Trin gives me so much shit about the way I say some things.”
Thankfully, the man only chuckled, moving the topic onto food. Where Dennis declared the biscuits and gravy for himself, Jack hummed thoughtfully before choosing the french toast. When Dennis made a face at the amount of sugar before bed, Jack huffed and added a side of hashbrowns and bacon.
After the waitress returned with their drinks and grabbed their food orders, Dennis played with the straw of his drink as he said, “She’s my best friend, though. Never had one, growing up.”
“Really?” Jack inquired, brows rising, “Decent guy like you?”
Dennis felt his lips pull in a humourless smile, eyes skirting away from the genuine interest in Jack’s gaze. It was difficult to handle, having the attention of a handsome man. Even more-so, anyone showing interest in Dennis was weird. Many times he would make a comment, only for it to lead to people talking over him or just plain ignoring what he had said. It had just become easier to throw out a short line or two about himself, learning that no one really wanted to know Dennis in depth. Surface level was enough for them.
And now, Jack was giving him something he hadn’t ever really received: attentiveness. “I was a weird kid to others, I guess. I got along alright with the girls, but that gave the boys a lot of fuel to mess with me. A lot of name calling and shoving around. My brothers, though I say they tortured me growing up, they did make sure I wasn’t being picked on too much. But it still made me a loner.”
Jack frowned at that, a flicker of annoyance across his features, “What a bunch of dicks.”
Dennis huffed, smiling, “Yeah, they kind of were.”
“I was a jock,” Jack commented, shaking his head with exasperation, “I like to think I wasn’t too much of an asshole, didn’t target and pick on anyone, but I definitely had an ego. Military knocked me down a few pegs, disciplined me too.”
“Misbehaved a lot?” Dennis found himself asking, unable to stop a flirty look from escaping and cast Jack’s way. The man ducked his head, hiding a smile as he scrubbed at his neck.
“Got into the usual teenage shit but nothing bad. Nothing to go on my record and stop the military from snapping me up.”
Dennis hummed in acknowledgment, “They do like to prey on the vulnerable…” The younger man teased cautiously, relieved with Jack snorted.
“That they do.” The man took a sip of his water. After setting it down, his fingers played with the dark band on his left hand.
Dennis gazed at it thoughtfully. It wasn’t that he did not know that Jack was a widower, he had spotted it that first night shift together; Pittfest making it hard to noticing anything that wasn’t patient orientated. At first, Dennis was a bit disappointed that the man wasn’t single, but moved on until he saw some bets about newbies flirting with Jack. When defensive on the man – and his wife’s – behalf, Dennis had discreetly brought it up with Jack. The man had chuckled and shook his head, expression wry as he patted Dennis on the back. ‘Thanks, man, appreciate it. But I am a widower, so I guess they have free reign to gamble their paychecks away on stupid shit.’
Mortified, Dennis had avoided Jack for a few more night shifts before he was able to settle back into working alongside the man. He’d thought he had over-stepped but apparently his genuine concern made him like-able in Jack’s eyes, and relaxed gradually after receiving no reprimand or cold shoulder for bringing up the man’s deceased wife. Of course, after he graduated and began an internship in emergency pediatric medicine, Dennis didn’t think much about his little crush that stayed stubbornly in existence, thinking it would go nowhere.
Until today.
“What was she like?” Dennis quietly asked. A woman who had Jack carry that ring around even after her death must have been amazing.
Jack was quiet for a moment, turning the ring around on his finger before halting the motion. Leaning back in his booth, the man offered a sad, reminiscent smile, “A real firecracker. Didn’t take shit from anyone. Worst humour and timing you’ve ever seen.” Shaking his head, Jack grinned, “God, she could make anyone laugh at a funeral. So messy, too. Like you wouldn’t believe. Drove me nuts. Hated the ocean, loved to go hiking. Thought coffee was disgusting and Italian food was her favourite. Wanted two kids. Both girls.”
It was like he was reading off a list of facts he had memorised. Actually, that was exactly what Dennis could imagine Jack was doing. The man had been completely in love with her that years later, he never stopped remembering her. “She sounds phenomenal.” Dennis breathed out, his heart aching for Jack and the loss of a good woman.
“She was.” Jack murmured, voice a rasp and thick with emotion, “To me, she was. We met in high school, but didn’t start dating until after my first tour. Beth went to school for psychology, and then became a school counselor. I think that helped, y’know, when we found out I couldn’t give her kids. Still stayed with me, and we had even discussed adoption.”
Dennis could imagine it play out like a movie. Jack and this amazing woman, two daughters completely loved even without the blood ties. A home full of affection and laughter. It didn’t even hurt, thinking about how Dennis would never have been a blip in Jack’s mind; solely in love with Beth. And Dennis couldn’t even be mad about that. What could have been was always a painful game to play, but this time around, it only made him wish that the world was kinder for the good man across from him.
There was so much love in Jack’s eyes, talking about Beth. Dennis could only wish that someone looked like that when they talked about him.
“Beth would have liked you.”
Dennis startled from his thoughts, blinking wide at Jack, “Really?”
The man nodded, a pleased look on his face, “Oh, yeah. Would’ve loved to hear about how you kept me in line.”
“Wouldn’t have to if you stopped trying to steal my patients.” Dennis groused, good-naturally, gaining a chuckle from Jack as they fell into another lull of quiet. Under the table, Jack was swaying his feet back and forth, moving Dennis’ with them. A surprising amount of dexterity from the amputated foot, and he wanted to ask about that but figured not the best first date conversation. Then again, they were discussing Jack’s deceased wife.
Dennis ruminating over what to say in the melancholic silence. He had learnt saying ‘sorry for your loss’ rarely did anything to help. Thinking over the loss of his grandparents, the only people he had ever lost and grieved over, Dennis contemplated his next words before reciting hesitantly, “Weeping may stay for a night but rejoicing comes in the morning.”
Jack stared. “Did you quote a bible verse to me?”
Flushing, Dennis haltingly explained, “It was the uh, the verse that stuck with me, when my grandparents died. I know that doesn’t really compare to losing a partner, but uhm… sorry, never mind.”
Bowing his head, Dennis decided that he should just melt into a puddle and disappear forever. Way to ruin a fucking first date. Asking a man about his dead wife and then trying to relate to it? Holy shit, Jack was never going to talk to him again.
“It’s a good verse,” The man spoke up, Dennis whipping his head up with wide eyes. Jack was gazing out the window, thoughtful expression over his face. “I was raised Christian, but you either lose it or hang on to it tightly when you enter a battlefield. I lost it. Beth wasn’t religious, but she liked poetry and profound sentences and shit. There were a few bible quotes she liked too.”
Pursing his lips, Dennis offered quietly, “I lost faith for a long while.” Jack had exposed his own grief, maybe it would be a good distraction to offer some of his own. “Being um, abused, kinda does that to you.”
Jack turned his head toward Dennis once more. There it was again, that look Dennis had seen previously when he let it slip about his past abuse in the office. It was the look of someone who was dying to ask for more information but was politely refraining. His gaze was heavy, an intense singular focus that would make anyone shiver out of fear or desire. Dennis couldn’t help but wonder what that gaze would feel like in bed.
Then, he dashed the thought away as he cleared his throat, “You uh, you pray. And you beg, wondering why God would’ve let something like that happen to you. Beg him to make it stop. And when that goes unanswered, you either tell yourself it’s something that you deserved for being bad, or you have to contend with the fact that everything you’ve been raised on was false.”
“And what did you do?”
“I tried to kill myself.”
Jack’s eyes widened. A heavy tension dumped over them.
Grimacing, Dennis played with his straw again. In for a penny, in for a pound. Dredging up that dark part of his mind, the younger man explained as clinically as he could, “Found some pills in my parents’ medicine cabinet. Overdosed, or tried to. Fortunately, I suppose, my oldest brother Ethan found me. Got me to the hospital and I survived. It’s funny,” Dennis huffed, shrugging one shoulder, “I had to nearly die before my parents believed that my uncle raped me. They didn’t listen to me when I told them about it four years previously. Didn’t listen when I tried to steer clear from him when it was a family gathering. Didn’t listen when Ethan believed me and backed me up. But almost dying. That was when they finally started listening.” The bitterness, despite how much control Dennis tried to keep on his emotion, was too strong and it slipped through.
Jack’s ankles held close to Dennis’ foot. Somehow, he had gathered both feet during the ramble, and it was kind of nice. That comforting gesture. It wasn’t placating or condescending. Just a steady presence that said ‘I’m here’.
“What happened to your uncle?”
Pausing, Dennis decided that he had dug too much darkness for a first date, pasting on a smile as he answered, “Who knows. Never saw him again. I was fifteen.” Only a part lie. Dennis knew exactly what had happened to his uncle. It hadn’t solved his depression and suicidal tendencies, but it helped a little when the man died. At least Dennis stopped feeling like someone was going to creep into his room at night. The lock on the door Ethan installed helped too.
The food thankfully arrived not a moment later, and Dennis buried himself in eating as he scrounged around for a lighter topic to discuss. However, Jack was not one to let things go. Not completely, anyway.
“Tried to kill myself too.”
Dennis glanced over at him as he chewed, not completely surprised by that. Though he still politely offered an encouraging, “Oh?” Trauma dumping on a first date. Dennis felt like he read about this phenomenon somewhere, but hadn’t thought it was real. Guess he was proven incorrect.
Nodding, Jack stabbed a piece of french toast as he explained, “Oh, yeah. Lost my leg. And just when I felt like I was recovering and improving, I lost Beth. Was going to go the proper solider way. Gun in the mouth.” He mimicked that with his hand, and Dennis felt a shiver of fear crawl through him at the thought.
After finishing his bite, Dennis went for another piece of gravy smothered biscuit as he asked curiously, “What stopped you?”
“No bullets in the gun.” Jack snorted, dark amusement playing on his face. “Beth, that bitch, removed them before she was admitted into hospital. The second round of chemo hadn’t worked as well as we’d hope. So they just went for palliative care. But apparently, before she went in, she had gotten rid of all the bullets.”
He went silent for a moment, contemplative. Then, with a huff of laughter, Jack continued, “It’s funny, I hadn’t even been in a right state of mind to check if it was loaded or not. Just grabbed it from the safe, flicked off the safety and fired. Click. Nothing. When I checked the cartridge, there was a little sticky note from her.”
“What’d it say?”
“’Not getting off that easily, rabbit’. She added a smiley face too. Here,” And Jack sat back as he pulled out his wallet. Tucked in one of the pockets, was a fluorescent pink piece of paper, worn from frequent folding and unfolding. In beautiful cursive writing, it was the memory imprint of a woman who had saved her husband’s life from beyond the grave.
Dennis couldn’t stop the incredulous laughter at the doodled face. It was squiggly and awful. “She knew you well then, huh?” Handing the piece of paper back carefully, a touch reverent at having touched something that had been in contact with Beth. Was he half in love with a dead woman? Him? A gay man? Insane. Dennis needed to sleep.
“That she did,” Jack chuckled, slipping it and then the wallet, away. “Hated her for a time. Robby came over about an hour after I tried, looked about ready to burst into tears when he saw the gun. I let him get rid of it all. Now, when I’m feeling particularly low, I stand on the hospital roof to feel something.”
Deciding he really didn’t want to touch the inactive suicide risk topic this time around, Dennis wondered, “She called you ‘rabbit’?”
“Jackrabbit was her nickname for me.” The man explained, “Used it throughout high school. I was a ball of energy, so I guess it fit well enough.”
Dennis filed the name away as something he could never use, replying, “Didn’t have any nicknames. Or, well, none that weren’t mean.”
“Santos calls you ‘Huckleberry’.” Jack reminded him.
Dennis rolled his eyes fondly, “And she’s forever smug that I answer to it. But my mama would call me Den-Den until I was about seven. Denny is now the preferred one in the household. Though, Travis likes to call me Doctor Dumbass.”
Jack grinned, “Not bad.”
Thankfully, due to the conversation change, they managed to stay in light-hearted territory after that. They exchanged anecdotes from childhood, college, with Jack telling some insane stories from when he was in the military. It led to Dennis talking about growing up on a farm.
“Actually,” He defended, “It’s not as hard as you think.”
Jack shook his head in disbelief, grinning, “I don’t think you’ll find many people in the city agreeing with you.”
“It definitely takes some precision,” Dennis admitted, “But a lasso is easy. It’s just physics.” He held back on offering to show Jack, his mind wandering to what it would be like to bring the man back to the Whitaker farm. Show him the tricks he had learnt as a kid. Would that be impressive?
Scoffing, the older man went to answer, only to cover up a sudden yawn. Dennis couldn’t help but yawning in sympathy. His eyes had been aching for awhile, and he was definitely ready to crash. He just wasn’t ready to end the date here.
And Jack felt similarly, as he offered, “Want to go back to my place?”
Though he felt a flutter in his stomach, Dennis gave a sheepish smile, “I don’t think I have the energy-”
“Oh, no!” Jack rushed out, cheeks growing pink, much to Dennis’ surprise and enjoyment, “That wasn’t what I meant. Just to sleep. You’ve got tomorrow off, right?”
Dennis nodded, hopeful, “Do you?”
“Yeah. We could...spend the day together tomorrow? Maybe?” At the bashful question, Dennis could feel himself falling completely head over heels in that moment.
Biting his lip to halt a smile, Dennis gave a nod. “I’d want to check in with Trin, maybe you could come over?”
Smiling that eye crinkling smile, Jack agreed. “I’d like that.”