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Chapter Text

Dr. Michael “Robby” Robinavitch was ready for his shift to be over before the clock hit 0900. He’d already dealt with two overdoses, a psychotic break and a seventy-eight-year-old woman whose femur was so mangled he shuddered at the memory. A sharp scream ricocheted off the linoleum in one of the trauma bays. Robby shot a glance to Dana Evans, the charge nurse standing behind the counter at the hub. She shook her head. Not his problem then.

The ambulance bay doors slid open with a hiss. The clatter of gurney wheels clanged as the medics came in hot and Robby did a quick visual assessment of the patient. Middle-aged male, meaty build, the left half of his chest a grotesque tapestry of swollen purple flesh under what remained of his uniform shirt. Occlusive dressing in the field, IV in the left antecubital, breathing tube in place.

“Coming through!” shouted the medic, voice steady as steel. Defibrillator leads swung heavy from your neck. You were new. He would have remembered seeing you before. Robby caught the name stitched above your pocket: Sparks.

You guided the gurney with confident precision while your partner continued to bag the patient. “Fifty-year-old male, crushed under collapsed warehouse shelving. Probable sternal fracture and left flail chest. Open pneumothorax sealed with occlusive dressing. Field GSC eleven, dropped to seven enroute. O2 sat eighty-five on bag. Ten ketamine in transit, RSI completed five minutes ago. V-tach, cardioverted once, no sustained rhythm changes. Hypotensive despite twenty micrograms per minute dopamine infusion. Last BP was seventy-two over forty-five.  Tourniquet applied to right leg—open fibula fracture, absent distal sensation.”

Your words unfurled in a mechanical staccato, precise and unhurried.  Robby was halfway impressed and all the way annoyed.

“You left a tourniquet on for an open fracture?” His tone was more accusation than question.

You didn’t flinch. “Bleeding was heavy and continuous. Impossible to achieve hemostasis with manual pressure due to the break. Tourniquet maintained perfusion pressure proximal to the injury.”

Robby ran his eyes over the blood-soaked calf. “When was the last limb check?”

You didn’t look at your watch. “About two minutes ago. Still flowing.”

Your unbothered demeanor had a sliver of irritation crawling under his skin as Robby’s best Resident, Frank Langdon, fell into step beside him. He directed the gurney into a room. “Okay,” Robby said, “on my count. One, two, three—slide.” The patient’s body thudded onto the trauma bed.

“Vitals,” he demanded as one of the nurses swapped out on the bag. He flicked his gaze to you as you slid the gurney out of the way. “We’ve got it from here.”

You paused in the corridor, your voice drifting back over your shoulder. “He’s gonna crash without a chest tube and I’d stake money on a cardiac tamponade.”

Robby’s head snapped up with a glare, his chest going tight. Who the fuck did you think you were?  “I said we’ve got it.” He turned back to the patient, adrenaline sharpening his focus.

Frank flew through the chest exam. “Crepitus, paradoxical movement, sub-q emphysema. Air crackles up to the clavicle.”

“Shit. Prep for a chest tube. Get me two bags of whole blood on the infuser.” Reaching beneath the purpled tissues, Robby made his incision and guided the tube into the pleural space. A sharp hiss of trapped air escaped, followed by a dark, frothy gush of blood. He exhaled at last.

Frank leaned close, voice low enough that only Robby could hear. “Who the hell was that medic?”

Robby shook his head. “No idea.” He hated not knowing. Part of him wanted to scold you for stepping on ED turf. The other part felt gratitude he wouldn’t admit. He’d witnessed too many paramedics with god complexes that thought they knew everything. Yet with every move, every stat, every wound, the evidence stacked up. You had been right.

“Pulse up to ninety, pressure holding in the eighties,” Princess called. “Sats up and rising.”

A sharp, clinical voice piped in from the doorway. The trauma surgeon had arrived, eyes bright with impatience. “Chaos already?”

“As always,” Robby replied without a glance in her direction. His gaze flicked to the blood pooling in the suction canister, then to the leg. “Get an ortho consult. Langdon, EKG?”

Frank glanced at the readout. “Sinus with PVCs.”

“Ultrasound,” he ordered, not caring who obeyed as long as somebody did.

Princess handed it over to Frank. The screen flickered, dark pools of black swallowing the heart. “Tamponade.”

Robby glanced at the clock. Less than six minutes since roll-in and they were doing a pericardiocentesis in Trauma 3. Just like you had said. He tilted his head and huffed out a laugh of disbelief.

The surgeon stepped up then, finally willing to do something other than stare and bitch about perceived ED failings. “Watch and learn,” she said to the students that were in the room. She lined up the needle using the ultrasound and advanced slow and smooth until dark blood flooded into the syringe. The patient’s vitals bumped up a notch on the monitor. “And that’s how it’s done.”

“Get him stable, then get him to imaging for the leg and chest.” He glanced at the surgeon. “He’s got a bleeder in the leg according to the paramedic and the chest wound, plus multiple breaks.”

She nodded. “Yeah, we’ll take him once he’s stable. Ortho can join.”

Finally able to step back and take a breath, Robby took a moment to watch the stats for his patient steadily improving. He’d read countless reports and listened to thousands of handoffs from a hundred ambulance crews, but never had any of them called everything so accurately.

Frank caught his eye from the other side of the table. “You think she guessed all this or…?”

Robby shook his head. “Nobody guesses this. She knew.”

He turned to look for you then, hoping you’d stuck around for one reason or another, but the hall beyond the trauma bay was empty. For just a second, he felt like he was missing something, a critical piece of himself he hadn’t realized he needed until today.

The surgeon started to fire out instructions to get the patient transferred up to the OR. Robby backed away and peeled off his gown and gloves, throwing them in the bin. He drifted over to the hub, still looking for a glimpse of the paramedic at the corners of his vision. He knew the ambulance was long gone but found himself hoping anyway.

He’d just stabilized a dying man and was more annoyed by the missing medic than by the bleeding patient. He didn’t like mysteries. He especially didn’t like being outplayed in his own ED. Next time, he’d have your full name before the gurney even stopped moving.

Robby leaned on the counter watching Dana frown at the computer before hammering something out on the keyboard. She paused to sip her coffee and looked at him over the top of her glasses. “What’s up?”

“You catch the paramedic on the last run? Trauma 3?” He tried to sound as nonchalant as possible.

She tapped her fingers on the desk. “No, I was busy. Why? Trouble?”

“Nothing like that,” he assured. “She’s new.”

Dana shrugged, unimpressed. “They’re all new until they’re not.”

He snorted.

Dana narrowed her eyes. “She screw up?”

“Far from it. She was…” Impressive, he wanted to say but bit it back. “Sharp,” he said instead.

Dana raised a brow. “That’s high praise coming from you.”

She wanted more details, but he ignored the unasked question. “I was just curious if you knew anything about her.” He picked up a tablet and scrolled through it in an effort to get her to drop the topic.

He should have known it wouldn’t work. “You’ve got a tell, you know. When something rattles you.”

He shook his head in denial. “Not rattled,” he corrected, but she’d already turned back to her work satisfied with having scored the point.

Robby rubbed his eyes with a sigh. Maybe he was reading to much into this. Or maybe you really were that good. He stared at the tablet not focusing on it at all.

In the end it didn’t matter if you were new, old or a sleep-deprived hallucination. You’d either fuck up and be gone in a week or he’d have to get used to seeing you every day. He wasn’t sure which possibility bothered him more.

He raked a hand through his hair, the gesture betraying the irritation he would have denied. The next time you came through the doors he’d be ready. For now, though, all he had was half a name and the feeling that a clock somewhere had started ticking.  

 ***

Jack Abbot had worked a thousand nightshifts in the Pitt but tonight there was a sense of anticipation that thrummed under his skin. The Pitt didn’t sleep, not even on a Thursday at 03:17.

A screech of gurney wheels heralded the next arrival. He met the crew at the ambulance bay doors and scanned the patient in a blink. Young female, skin purpled from neck to midline, right chest bulging and rising uneven. There was blood everywhere, but Jack’s eyes locked on the clear tubing snaking out of the woman’s ribs.

Jack’s heart hammered. He didn’t believe it at first. Field chest tube. Fucking cowboys.

“Let’s move!” Jack ordered as he gloved up. The patient was surrounded, ready to be transferred on his count. His gaze found you as they completed the shift to the bed. Your partner wheeled the gurney out of the way leaving you to give the assessment.

“Twenty-two-year-old female, single-car MVA, roll-over. GCS six on scene. Obvious right chest wall instability, Needle decompression at scene—didn’t hold, so I placed a sixteen French in the fifth intercostal. Tube secured with sutures and heavy tape.” You didn’t blink.

Jack’s jaw clenched.  “You did a thoracostomy in the field? Are you nuts?” He didn’t hide his skepticism or the bite in his tone.

You shrugged absently as if his chastisement didn’t matter at all. “Didn’t have a choice if you wanted her breathing when we got here. Collapsed lung, mediastinal shift, O2 in the fifties. She needs blood and a scan.”

Jack bit down hard on his first reply. He wanted to dress you down. Lecture you about protocol and liability. About the kind of risks you only took when there were no other options. But you’d read the situation right. The chest was draining, the bubbling red-black evidence pooling in the collection canister.

He didn’t look at you, turning instead to one of the green residents that had been unlucky enough to end up on the night shift. “Rogers, two units PRBCs on the infuser. I want a portable chest, now. And page surgery.”

His eyes ran over the patient doing another assessment. Broken ribs. Faint blue on the lips though that was fading. His attention shifted to examine the chest tube, confirming what he already suspected. It was not just well placed, it was textbook perfect. Secured with two neat sutures and tape and running clean to the bag. The kind of work he’d expect from a senior resident or an attending.

The trauma surgeon arrived, and Jack stepped back to let them take over this mess. “You stabilized her enough for us to move her. Let’s get her upstairs.”

“Someone else did the hard part,” Jack said, meaning it.

He turned to thank you, or at least acknowledge you, but you were gone. Not in the room, not in the hall. He shouldn’t have expected anything else. You didn’t seem to be the type to stand around.

Jack found himself leaning on the wall, stripping his gloves. He flexed his right leg, the one that ached when he stood too long and let his mind wander.

There were rules. Protocols the paramedics were to follow. The system only ran smooth if everyone stuck to their part. But every now and then, someone showed up and rewrote the script. It could be a disaster or an ode to the profession.

He thought of that chest tube again. Of the precise cut, the perfect angle. The difficulty of doing that in the field and keeping it secured during the ride to the ED. Part of him still thought he should have reprimanded you for taking the risk, but the rest of him felt relief that the patient just might survive her injuries.

Ivy, one of the night nurses, stepped out of the room.

“Hey,” he said catching her attention. “Who was that paramedic?”

She shrugged typing on the tablet in her hands. “No idea. Never seen her before.”

He didn’t bother looking for you. You were long gone and if you wanted to disappear, you’d earned it. But he filed your face away, a bright point in the haze of the night shift.

His mind turned to Robby. Last week he’d ranted about a new medic who’d outperformed any of their residents. At the time, Jack chalked it up to exaggeration. But this felt different. Could you be the same woman? You had to be.

Jack exhaled. Maybe next time he’d get more than a nod and a disappearing act. Or maybe not. Regardless, he was certain he hadn’t heard the last from you.

Chapter Text

It took another week and a half before Robby saw you again, which was odd when he thought about it. He should have seen you at least once if you were on any sort of regular rotation. He’d almost convinced himself you’d moved on already, found another gig, or worse, been fired for your reckless behavior. Neither he nor Jack had reported you, but others might. Doctors worried more about their ego than their patients’ lives. And yet here you were, slipping through the bay doors just after shift change on a Tuesday morning.

You moved more slowly this time, every motion measured and precise. The gurney at your side bore an OD patient that had responded to Narcan but still needed a full assessment. Robby watched from a short distance away, hands fisted in this hoodie pockets.

You walked through the handover like you’d done it a million times before. Your voice was crisp, precise as you ticked off details without a stumble, your eyes locked on the resident making notes. When you finished, you helped transfer the patient to a trauma bed before stepping back and letting your partner wheel the gurney out of the way.

Robby stayed rooted, his eyes following your path as you trailed behind. Only when the doors closed behind you did he finally step forward, the rubber soles of his shoes squeaking on the freshly mopped floor. He drew in a breath and forced himself to follow. He needed to see you, to speak to you. He needed the name. The missing piece that had gnawed at him since the first run. He had to know if there was a chance.

You were halfway across the bay when he cleared his throat—once, twice—his hands still buried in his hoodie. When you turned toward him from the back of the rig, he said, “Hey.” His voice was softer than he’d intended but he had your attention regardless.

You waved off your partner, who trudged back to the driver’s seat, and stepped closer. Something in your stance, weight shifted to one hip, made his chest tighten. You gave him a quick once over and smiled. He swore his heart stuttered for a minute. Fuck. “Can I help you?”

“We haven’t had the chance to officially meet,” he blurted, stumbling. “Michael Robinavitch. Robby. Dr. Robby.” He hated the way he tripped over the words but it was already done. No taking them back now.  “I’m the head attending. Day shift, mainly.”

Your smile widened as you gave him a nod. “Katrina Sparks,” you said then cocked your head. “Kat’s fine, too.”

The name landed not the way he’d been expecting. Actually, he wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting. But he’d been hoping…

He shook the thought away and tried to recover his footing in the conversation. “Nice to put a name to the face. You’re good,” he admitted before instantly regretting it. “I mean, you handled that chest trauma better than most.” He winced. That sounded trite. God, why wasn’t he any good at this?

You shrugged, your smile slipping into a smirk. “Thanks. All in a day’s work.” Your tone was light, dismissive but he saw a flicker of something he interpreted as pride.

And you should be proud because it wasn’t all in a day’s work at all. No, what you’d done had gone far beyond the capabilities of the typical medic that came through the doors.

Your radio chirped, loud and piercing. You answered with a clipped, “Copy, ten minutes out.” You gave him another grin. “See you later, Dr. Robby.”

He watched you jog around to the other side of the rig, swing inside and shut your door before the lights on the ambulance snapped to life. In seconds, you were gone. Katrina. Kat. Not the name on his ribs, just above Jack’s. The one he’d traced with his fingers more times than he could count. It shouldn’t have mattered. He barely knew you. But there was this stupid hollow, the same feeling of a missing piece he’d had the first time he’d seen you.

He stood outside until the rig was no longer in sight then he shook himself and went inside, embarrassed by how much it bothered him. He’d wanted a name and now that he had it, he wanted more.

***

Two days later and hours before sunrise, Jack stepped into the ambulance bay to take a break. He just needed coffee and some air. Just a minute away from the noise, from the endless alarms.

One ambulance sat alone, parked at a lazy angle under the harsh bay lights. As he got closer, he saw you sitting in the back with your legs hanging out, a battered thermos in hand. You cradled it like it was something precious and maybe it was. Sparks. Katrina, Robby had told him. Kat.

 His gaze moved from you to your partner inside who was leaning against the wall flirting with one of the nurses. Their laughter drifted to him as he shifted his attention back to you. You looked different out here. Smaller, maybe, or just unguarded. There were lines around your eyes that he hadn’t noticed before. They said you were older than you looked and tired as hell.

He gave you a moment to yourself then crossed the distance to you. Coffee in one hand, the other deep in his pockets. At this time of morning, his limp was slight but noticeable.

When he was close enough, he let his voice drop low. “Katrina, right?”

You jerked upright, eyes widening in surprise. For a moment you seemed to gather your thoughts, then tilted your head, a half-smile curling your lips. “Depends entirely upon who’s asking.”

 He grinned but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Abbot. Jack. Night shift attending.”

You took him in, head to toe, then back up a serious expression on your face. “You looked taller on the other side of the gurney,” you said before flashing him a sly grin.

His own became more genuine as he shrugged. “I get that a lot.”

“You attendings are making a habit of chasing me out here. Are you even supposed to leave the ED? Doesn’t the hospital collapse or something if you’re gone too long?”

He huffed a laugh. “Guess we’ll find out. I needed the air. The company’s an unforeseen bonus.”

You let the silence settle for a beat before asking, “Did you save the MVC?”

He rocked back on his heels with a nod. “That was your work. Most paramedics couldn’t have done it. Would have stuck themselves or the wrong rib, but not you.”

Your face went neutral for a second, then you looked away, running your palm along the crease in your pants. “It’s the job.”

He almost said, Not the way you do it. But he let the thought die. Instead, he asked, “How long you been running with EMS?”

You glanced at the door where your partner was still nowhere in sight. “Couple months. Longer than I planned,” you said after a moment. “Keeps me busy.”

He wanted to ask what you were running from but he’d learned there were questions you didn’t ask. Not if he wanted to keep talking to you, anyway.

He traced the edge of his coffee cup with his thumb. “What were you doing before?”

There was that little smirk again as you arched a brow. “Different place. Same chaos.”

He studied your profile and the weary tilt at the corners of your mouth. He wondered how long you’d been working tonight. “Robinavitch was impressed with you, too, even if he won’t admit it.”

You smiled at that before sipping at your coffee, the steam curling into the air between them.

Jack wanted to tell you something honest, something real. Maybe that he’d already memorized the way your hands moved, or that your name filled both his and Robby’s heads and more than one of their conversations. He cleared his throat. “Nice thermos.” That was safer.

You quirked a brow and turned it so he could see the multitude of dents and scrapes. “I swear it’s bullet proof. It’s survived at least a hundred trips down the stairs. Never failed me yet.”

He almost laughed. He liked the quick, unvarnished way you had of speaking. Jack realized he was staring and looked away, tracking the glow of the streetlights on the wet concrete.

“You ever get tired of trying to save the world?” he asked, soft. He wasn’t sure what made him say it.

Your expression softened but you didn’t answer right away. Finally, you said, “Don’t you?”

He looked at his feet. “Sometimes. But I keep coming back, so I guess I’m not done yet.”

Your radio sparked to life. “Unit Six, return rig to base. You’re late for relief.” You straightened and hopped to your feet. “Copy,” you said into the mic. You looked at Jack as if weighing whether to add something more.

He beat you to it. “Get some rest and stay safe out there.”

“Will do, Abbot Jack,” you said with that same crooked smile he’d noticed the first time. You swung into the cab in one fluid motion, your partner already climbing in on the other side. In a heartbeat, the engine roared, and the rig peeled away.  

Jack stood in the quiet that followed, the bay lights humming overhead the only witness to the hollow ache in his chest. How could he miss someone he barely knew? How could a name hollow him out? He understood what Robby had been telling him now.

He finished his coffee, drained the last bitter drop, then flicked the cup into the bin. Then he turned and headed back through the sliding doors, straight into the rising tide of incoming patients and alarms, carrying with him the whisper of a name he couldn’t let go.

Chapter Text

When one spends their days immersed in PTMC emergency department, one day tends to bleed into the next—sometimes literally. For Dana Evans, the only way to mark time was by the faces that surrounded her. So, it only made sense that she was the first to notice that the new paramedic was around more often. You appeared at least once per shift, more often if the world was on fire, which it usually was. Lena, the nightshift charge nurse, reported the same. You haunted her the ED during night shift, too. Nobody could decode your schedule. You came in at all hours, rarely with the same partner by your side.

The first real winter storm dropped in during the early morning hours. By 07:18, you had already run six calls. You rolled in with a guy barely breathing and blood pooling in his boots. By 07:25 you’d handed off to Robby followed by a quick “possible DKA. Breath smells like my nail polish remover.” He didn’t even argue with you, just gave a quick, grudging nod. A resident opened his mouth to challenge you, but the attending held up a hand to cut him off.  “Just run the test.” Dana watched from the hub and saw Robby’s eyes track you as you walked away, phone to your ear.

The next time you showed up was during shift change before Dana had a chance to head home. Jack peeled away from the debrief to meet the gurney. You handed him a printout.  “Dropped at a bar, forty-eight-year-old male, two rounds epi, O2 sats in the low eighties, twelve-lead showed no artifact.” He scanned it. “Probable hyperkalemia, if you ask me.” Jack didn’t say thank you. He just cocked an eyebrow and the corner of his mouth gave the faintest twitch upward. Dana stored it away like a breadcrumb.

The next day you were back with a pediatric case—a feverish ten-year-old gasping through a mask. This time you stayed long enough to make sure the patient was stable before disappearing. By the end of the week, the entire day shift had decided they wanted you on speed dial, even if only Dana had the nerve to say it out loud.

Robby had just come from another handoff to lean on the hub. He seemed to be lost in thought. Taking a guess as to the subject, Dana said, “You’re right, she’s sharp. Almost too sharp.”

Robby snorted but didn’t disagree. “You ever see her hesitate?”

“Nope,” Dana replied.

The hospital’s charting system was a graveyard of CYA protocols. Dana could spot your notes amongst any other medic that came through the door. Every detail was precise, every dosage and diagnosis eerily accurate, your last name and badge number scrawled underneath. Other paramedics’ notes might as well have been hastily scrawled on post-its. The other nurses took to calling you ‘the oracle’ but never to your face.

At first, when the others attempted to build a rapport with the surprisingly quiet woman, you would make yourself scarce with an excuse of a loaded stretcher, another call or just an evaporating act so smooth no one could remember when you left. That was unless Jack or Robby cornered you. You always seemed to have time for the two attendings, even if it was just a few seconds to pass a greeting, share a smirk and disappear again.

Dana was working one of her rare night shifts, covering for an extended absence when you came in with an OD in the early morning hours. For once, you weren’t in a hurry to leave and helped yourself to coffee from the breakroom. You leaned on the counter at the hub talking to a couple of nurses during a brief lull in the chaos. Jack drifted by after checking on a patient, saw you, and froze. Dana caught a flicker of something on his face then watched him approach slowly as if he expected you to vanish if he moved too fast.

“Still trying to save the world, I see,” he greeted, voice low.

You nodded. “So are you. Have you figured out yet if the building will collapse if you and Dr. Robby leave for too long?”

Jack grinned and the skin around his eyes crinkled. Dana caught it—an actual, genuine smile.

Another afternoon, Dana heard you quizzing a resident on submersion injury protocols while he took a quick break. Robby strolled by and couldn’t resist inserting himself into the conversation. “That data’s five years out of date.”

You shot back with, “The guidelines were revised last month, Dr. Robby. Check your inbox.”

“Oh, she’s sassy,” Robby said with a chuckle before grabbing a tablet and moving to another room. The resident you’d been talking to nearly choked on his sandwich.

And Dana just watched it all. Her suspicions were only supported when Lena would fill her in on the interactions between you and Abbot during the night shift. “He laughed. He actually laughed,” Lena had told her just this morning.

The only strange thing about you was how you kept a practiced physical distance from everyone. You always stood just outside of arm’s reach, leaned away if anyone crowded you, and never accepted a handshake. The few times someone had encroached, you’d find a way to step back, or put something in your hands so the contact never happened. But Dana had been in the ED long enough to know when someone was avoiding touch. She filed that fact away along with all the others.

The days blurred as they always did, but the pattern held. One night when a string of frat party overdoses had most of day shift working overtime, Dana watched as you and Robby leaned against the wall, trying to give yourselves a chance to breathe. You had stuck around to help longer than you probably should have, but they’d needed the assist so no one was going to complain. Robby rubbed his jaw with the back of his hand. “I hate this part,” he said, nodding toward the half-conscious puking patients.

“You hate everything,” you replied, a teasing lilt to your tone.

Robby made a show of rolling his eyes. “You ever think about taking a break from all this?”

You snorted. “I’m not built for downtime.”

“Yeah. Me either.”

You fell into a comfortable silence. Jack wandered over, fresh from a trauma, and leaned against the wall beside Robby as he sipped a bottle of water. Dana was packing up to head home, but she watched the three of you from the corner of her eye, memorizing the way you seemed to hover around one another, like magnets just shy of making contact. The three of you seemed content to just be in each other’s orbit, the men sneaking glances at you when they thought you wouldn’t notice and vice versa.

Eventually, you straightened and said, “See you next disaster.”

Jack watched until you faded from sight, then said, “You think she ever sleeps?”

Robby grunted. “If she does, it’s standing up.”

***

It had been one of those rare days where everything seemed to run just a little slower, a little more peaceful. Fewer patients seemed to be demanding their attention. It was days like this that every little thing stood out. Like the way you were hanging around the hub every time you came in and Robby kept finding excuses to be there, too.

Dana settled into her post at the nurses’ station. From there she could track every drama from the ambulance bay to the trauma rooms. She logged notes on her patients but most of her attention was on her attending and you.

At 17:30 you walked in with a hypertensive elderly woman, roaring curses and clearly not on death’s door. Robby met you in the corridor to do the initial handoff. As you gave your assessment, Dana watched Robby’s face. This wasn’t the mask he wore for patients but the private face he wore for colleagues. Dana had seen it soften before in rare moments, but never like this. Not for anyone but Jack. When he reached past you to check the cuff on the patient’s arm, you stepped clear, careful not to brush his arm. It was subtle, but Dana was paid to notice subtle. She logged it away, then kept watching.

An hour later, Jack clocked in a few minutes early. You had returned with another patient and were in the hallway entering some notes on a tablet. Jack didn’t say hello when he found you there, just slid up beside you to scan over the chart. Dana watched him point at a line of numbers and say something. You replied under your breath and both of you smirked at a private joke. When Jack leaned closer to check a figure, you angled the screen just so to make certain there was no chance for your hands to touch. You handed it back and slid away.

Time after time, you distanced yourself during handoffs. If there was no gurney between you, you’d cross your arms over your chest or bury your hands in your pockets. But you watched Jack and Robby as though you needed proof they were real, that they breathed and lived.

The men noticed you, too, even if they pretended otherwise. Dana caught Robby glancing at the hub anytime you were there, pretending to be annoyed by your presence but never looking away for long. Freezing in his charting when he heard you laugh with a nurse. When you left, Robby looked up and saw Dana watching. “What?”

“Nothing,” she said, voice dry. “Just waiting.”

His gaze flicked from her to the spot down the hall where you had disappeared. “Well, keep waiting. She’s not ours.”

And that was just it, wasn’t it? Dana knew they were supposed to have another soulmate, the name ‘Angel’ scrawled along their skin. Obviously, you weren’t her. Your name didn’t match and no one had ever called you Angel, not even sarcastically.

So, what was this between you, then? Simple attraction or something else?

Dana decided she didn’t care as long as it didn’t fuck with her shift. But as she watched the three of you, she felt a tickle of curiosity that wouldn’t quite leave her alone.

***

It was the middle of another week and Dana was settling in to start her shift. Somehow, she was unsurprised to find you already at the hub, leaning against the counter, cup of coffee in hand. You looked like you’d been awake for a week straight.

“Rough night?” Dana asked.

You smiled in greeting then shrugged. “Could’ve been worse.”

Dana took a slow slip of her coffee and let her eyes drift to where Robby and Jack stood a short distance away getting ready for handoff. You followed Dana’s gaze. For half a second, your guard dropped. There was a softness to it before you clamped it down and turned away.

Dana let it hang then said, “You know, you’re here more than half the residents. You ever rest?”

You snorted. “Not if I can help it.”

The attendings’ conversation carried just enough to catch a word here and there as they argued about labs. You watched from the corner of your eye.

“You know Abbot well?” Dana asked.

There it was. The slight hitch in your shoulders. You didn’t turn, just shifted your focus to your cup.

“No more than Robby,” you answered, voice neutral.

“He’s a pain in the ass but he means well. Robby, too.”

You made a noise that could have meant anything. “They’re good at what they do.”

“You’re not too bad yourself,” Dana said, and was surprised to find she meant it.

That earned her a quick smile before you finished off the last of your coffee.

“You know,” Dana said, “we’re going out Friday after shift. Girl’s night. You should come.”

You blinked in surprise. “Who else is going?”

“Me, Perlah and Princess always go. The others rotate in or out. Collins is coming this week, I think. I’m not sure who else. Its casual. Cheap food followed by a few drinks while we bitch about our partners and the hospital admin.”

You didn’t answer right away, tapping a finger on the lid of your cup. Finally, you smiled. “Sure. Why not?”

Dana grinned. “That’s the spirit.”

“Alright, I’ve got to get the rig back and make someone else earn their living.” You tossed your cup in the bin catching the attention of the two attendings. Jack and Robby broke off their conversation and followed you with their eyes until you were out of sight. After, they gave each other a quick kiss before heading different directions.

Dana shook her head with a laugh. “Not theirs, my ass.”

Chapter Text

The girls’ night crowd was already two drinks in and nowhere near ready to quit. The neon sign over their table buzzed and flickered in rhythm with the bass from the speakers overhead. Seven women crowded around the sticky, ringed table along the wall. Their laughter echoed around them, drawing them more than one glance. The place was full and smoke wafted in from the patio anytime someone opened the door. The smell of cheap beer and bad decisions filled the air. It was perfect.

At one end of the table, two junior nurses traded hospital horror stories with a slim surgery fellow and Heather Collins who was nursing a margarita on the rocks. Every so often their voices dimmed below the din before rising again in laughter. At the other end sat Dana, Princess and you who looked like you’d rather be on the clock than drinking on a Friday night. But the truth was you’d been looking forward to this outing. Perlah had ducked out before the move from the diner.

You had just finished delivering the cliff notes of your backstory—the easy part anyway—explaining how you always seemed to know so much about the patients.

Princess tilted her head, straw aloft, eyes dancing with disbelief. “Nah. You’re making that up,” she said, stabbing her straw into the ice for emphasis. “There’s no way.”

You shrugged as your mouth curved into a half-smile. “Maybe I am. Who knows?”

Dana, who had been listening with her arms crossed and a faintly judgmental eyebrow, shook her head and let out a noise somewhere between a snort and a chuckle. “I believe every word of it. It explains a whole hell of a lot. Besides, you seem the type.”

The others at the far end, were deep in a story about a patient who’d bitten through their own lip. You were glad you’d missed most of that one. The surgery fellow was being rather graphic in the retelling. Every now and then, the two subgroups merged to share a common story or a punchline and then they’d drift back to their safe social orbits.

It was Dana who spotted the untouched glass in front of you first.  “What is that? Seltzer?” she asked, leaning in. “That’s criminal. Princess, order her something dangerous.”

“I’ll take a Braddock’s,” you said. “There’s nothing dangerous about it, but it’ll do.”

Princess rolled her eyes. “You are such an old man.”

Your eyes lit. “Oh, I’ll take a grumpy old man. Haven’t had one of those in ages.”

Dana snorted again, muttering, “I bet you would.”

Before anyone could ask what that meant, the waiter showed up. He wore a messy haircut and a too small t-shirt with a bad dick joke on it. “Ladies, what can I get you?”

Dana pointed at you. “She want’s a grumpy old man.” Another huff of a laugh. “The rest of us are fine at the moment.” She raised her mostly full glass in case he doubted it.

The waiter beamed at you. “I’m going to need to see some ID.”

You cocked an eyebrow. “Now you’re just fishing for a tip.”

“Company policy,” he said and shrugged apologetically. “We’re not allowed to guess.”

You dug into your pocket, came up with a battered leather card case and slid out your driver’s license. You handed it to Dana who was closer to the waiter. “No laughing at the picture,” you warned but already regretted the words as the charge nurse turned the license to see the front of it.

Dana glanced at it and stopped as she took in the name: Angel Katrina Sparks. For a heartbeat she stared, her lips parted in surprise and she sucked in a startled breath.  The waiter leaned over to peek at the date before giving a nod and stepping back.

“Thanks,” he said. “I’ll be right back with your drink.”

Dana placed the license face down on the table and looked straight at you. “Is that your real name?” she asked low enough that only you heard.

You hesitated. You could lie or play it off as a mistake, but the way Dana’s gaze pinned you, the way her knuckles whitened on her glass, made it pointless. You took a steadying breath.

“That’s what it says.” You watched Dana’s reaction, the way her mouth thinned into a line.

Her face went from shock to suspicion to something more analytical. She kept studying you like she was waiting for you to break. The rest of the table rattled on, one of the nurses launching into a tale about a patient with a broken femur who tried to escape the ER. But at that moment, none of it mattered.

Finally, Dana slid the license back across the table, her expression softening. She reached over and set her hand on top of yours, squeezing once, tight and deliberate. She held it a moment longer, then withdrew her hand and turned to Princess. The nurse frowned as she looked between the other two women.

“Why don’t you tell Sparks what happened with the guy in five yesterday? She’ll like that one,” Dana suggested.

Princess immediately launched into the story and the table’s attention shifted to her. Just like that, the conversation was back in the safe, gossipy groove. You flexed your hand under the table and found you’d been gripping your thigh hard enough to leave marks.

An hour later or so, Dana needed a smoke break. She slid her chair back, checked her phone and gestured at the glass door with her chin. “Anyone coming?” she asked.

You drained the last of your second grumpy old man and stood as well. “I could use some air.”

Outside, the bar’s noise and sticky heat fell away, replaced by the chill of the night. The Open sign flickered, turning everything on the sidewalk alternating shades of red and blue. You shoved your hands into your pockets and leaned against the rough brick wall beside the door, breathing deeply.

Dana shook her cigarette loose and flicked her lighter. The flame illuminated the worried furrow in her brow. She inhaled, held it, then exhaled in a soft plume away from you. “You want one?”

You shook your head. “Quit awhile back.”

“Smart,” Dana said, as though she respected the decision even if she had no intention of following suit. For a minute, neither spoke. You felt every breath of silence, every second where words should be and weren’t. You rocked on your heels and sucked in a breath.

Dana was the first to speak. “I didn’t mean—back there with the license. If you want me to keep it quiet—”

“I’m going to assume from your reaction that I’m right about who Jack and Robby are to me?” You cut in, nervousness making your voice tremble.

Dana’s mouth twisted, amusement barely covering her curiosity. “Either that or it’s a hell of a coincidence.” She dropped her cigarette and ground it into the cement with her heel.  She turned back to you, folding her arms but leaning in, curious.

Your shoulders slumped, your breath catching for a beat. You stared past Dana into the darkness. “My mom named me that. Angel,” you began, voice low and detached as though you were reciting patient notes. “She was obsessed with soulmates. She said if she made my name special, mine would be easier to find.” You paused, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Then my names showed up, so common and generic they matched millions.”

Dana looked at you, really looked, eyes narrowed in calculation. “What happened?” she asked, voice gentle.

You exhaled slowly. “She raised me alone. Her soulmate died before I was born. She made it her mission to make me perfect for mine. To find them anyway she could. If I didn’t build my life around them, she said I’d never be complete.  For a long time, she had me convinced I had no value, no identity outside of my soulmates. That I was worthless if they didn’t claim me.”

Dana’s brows lifted. “Jesus. No wonder you go by Katrina.”

“Yeah.” You looked at the woman you were quickly coming to consider a friend. “Well, that and fucking Angel? Seriously?”

You both laughed, the tension easing off. Dana reached out and put a hand on your shoulder—firm, anchoring. “I get it. Katrina fits you better, anyway.” She hesitated, thoughtful. “Jack and Robby are drawn to you, but they don’t have a clue who you are to them.”

“Why would they?” you said with a shrug. “I don’t know how to tell them. What if I mess everything up?”

Dana’s grip tightened. “You’ll tell them when you’re ready. But if you need help, or if you want me to shut up about it, just say the word.”

You smiled, the first real one in a while. “Thanks.”

Dana cracked a grin. “Don’t mention it. But if you take too long, I reserve the right to throw you at them myself.”

Your laugh was louder than you’d intended, echoing down the empty street. You could picture Dana doing it, no hesitation.

You lingered for a moment longer, then went back in together, letting the noise and heat swallow you once more. The world shifted, settling into something steadier.

You slipped back into your seat, but your mind was still stuck on the conversation you’d just had. Maybe you would tell them soon. Maybe fate would step aside and let you do it on your own terms. Either way, you knew you’d survive. For the first time in months, you were looking forward to what happened next.

Chapter Text

Robby spotted you weaving through the people cluttering up the ED’s corridors. You’d just dropped off a wheezing overdose and were already halfway back to your rig. He could’ve let you go. Should have, maybe. Instead, he stepped into your path, hands fisted in his hoodie pockets as he waited to see if you were going to talk to him or just keep barreling through.

“Hey, Doc,” you said, slowing but not stopping. “Busy day?”

“Busier than it needs to be,” he replied, falling into step beside you. “You keep bringing us the weird ones.”

Your lips curved. “Not my fault the city’s full of weirdos.”

He halted and turned to face you, his head tilted as he took you in. “You know, you’re incredibly intuitive. Ever think about medical school? You’d make a fantastic doctor. Or an ED nurse if that’s more your speed.”

You blinked, then laughter exploded from you—a full-on belly laugh that had you bending in half for a second.  

Robby arched an eyebrow, amusement lifting the corners of his mouth. “That was funny?”

You held up both hands in surrender, backing away toward the doors. “No, no. It’s just—” another burst of laughter stole your words. You called back toward the hub. “Hey, Dana!”

“Yeah?” Dana shot back, not even looking up from her charting.

You pointed at Robby with a grin. “Dr. Robinavitch thinks I’d make a great doctor.”

Silence, then the hub erupted in laughter. Dana’s laugh was low and full while Princess giggled behind her hand. Even Perlah shook her head in disbelief.

Robby, caught in the middle, looked from you to the nurses and back again. “What?” he demanded, grinning despite feeling like he was the joke.

You simply grinned again and stepped out the door, leaving him behind. He lingered in the corridor, nonplussed, until Dana’s smirk and the chatter between the other two lured him to the hub. Arms folded, he slumped against the counter.  “Okay. I’m obviously missing something. What is it?”

Dana’s lips curved, slow and deliberate, as she typed out a final note and hit enter. Only then did she grace him with a glance. “You really want to know?”

He gave her a deadpan stare. “Well, everyone else seems to be in on the joke. Why not me?”

She shrugged, her lips twitching in amusement. “She is a doctor.”

He snorted and shook his head. “Katrina? No.”

Perlah leaned in, voice pitched for privacy. “It’s true.”

“Bullshit,” he said but it came out sounding hopeful.

Dana pushed her chair back an inch to see him better and slid off her glasses. “She was on staff at Presby during the pandemic.”

That hit like a sucker punch. “So why is she running EMS?” Robby asked, turning to look at the doors you’d just vanished through.

“Some anti-vax shithead ambushed her in the parking lot after way too many hours in full PPE. He grabbed her shoulder and got in her face. Demanded to know what his dad ‘really’ died of because COVID wasn’t real. She laid him out. Presby put her on leave and she told them to fuck off. Her friend worked EMS so she signed up. Said it was less claustrophobic anyway.”

He flashed back to his days drowning in PPE and understood that intimately. Robby leaned back, whistled low. “Holy shit.”

“Yep,” Dana replied, almost fond. “She’s a legend even if she pretends otherwise.”

Robby ran a hand over his beard, piecing together every weird little exchange, every time you had known the answer before the rest of them. He felt stupid for not seeing it, but also a little bit delighted.

He grinned, turned on his heel and walked away toward his rounds, leaving them chuckling behind him. He barely slowed as he barked over his shoulder. “Dana, tell her if she wants back in, apply here. Gloria owes me one. Or twelve. I’ll put in a good word.”

Dana’s eyes widened but she was already pulling out her phone. “I’ll let her know, Cap.”

He could already picture you in a Pitt badge, running codes, bossing around the junior staff, and making Jack’s head explode at least twice per shift. It was beautiful. It was necessary.

He had to get Jack on board to help him convince you. Surely between the two of them they could convince you that they were so much better than Presby.  As he met the paramedics running through the doors, Robby felt lighter than he had in months at just the possibility.

***

It was after 1800 before you found yourself back in the Pitt. The guy on your gurney was all lean muscle. He’d been pissing in a fountain when the police caught him. He’d headbutted one of the cops hard enough to split his own head open in the process. It went well with the deep festering human bite mark on one arm that you weren’t entirely certain he hadn’t done to himself. Now, he wore a full set of soft restraints along with handcuffs on one wrist. He hadn’t stopped spouting off half-baked conspiracy theories, voice slurred from whatever his particular poison was.

You parked him in front of an empty bay, then hurried the few feet to catch Robby at the hub, leaving your partner and your police escort to watch the patient. The attending looked wiped but the smile he gave you took years off his face.

“Male, forties, violent psychosis, probable polysubstance. Soft restrained and cuffed. GCS fifteen, but minus about a hundred points for being a total dick.”

He grinned. “Medical history?”

“Best I can tell he believes the Clintons microchipped his colon. No ID unless he hid it somewhere I’m not looking. He came up clean when the cops ran his prints.”

Robby grunted, waving you off. “Park him in five. We’ll get him started. Next shift can take over. But if you have a second, I’d like to talk to you before you go.”

You turned and saw a figure slinking along the corridor wall. Your partner and the cop were deep in conversation about last night’s game, only paying cursory attention to the patient. Your steps quickened. The roaming man’s predatory gaze fixed on the gurney’s ankle strap. Before you could shout, he thumbed the Velcro loose.

Your patient flexed his leg and released himself. You lunged even as your partner yelled for help. The patient’s size ten army boot caught you square in the face.

Pain exploded behind your eyes like a flashbang. For a second you saw nothing, heard nothing but your own pulse in your ears. Then the world slammed back, too bright, too loud. Blood, warm and fast poured down your face and ran down your throat. You pitched forward onto your hands, the taste of iron on your tongue.

A roar of voices rose behind you. Robby’s shout loudest of all.  “GET HIM DOWN. Collins, give me four of Ativan, IV push—GO!”

Jack’s clipped voice cut in as he ran through the doors and dropped his bag to jump into the chaos. “Get that leg secure, damn it, before someone else gets hurt.”

 You blinked up at them. Robby and Jack were trying to pin the patient to the bed while others scrambled around them, giving meds and adjusting restraints. The man howled at Robby, “You’re not God!”

“No,” Robby replied, voice dry as a bone. “But I am the guy with the drugs.”

You tried to rise but your knees buckled and you ended up on your ass, hands covering your nose. Frank Langdon dropped to a crouch beside you, cold hands pressing gently at your wrists to peel them away from your face. He didn’t ask if you were all right, he already knew the answer.

The blood had run all the way down your chin, pooling in the hollow of your throat and soaking the front of your shirt. You coughed, spat a clot, then hissed, “Motherfucker.” You squinted as Frank pressed a gauze pad under your nose.

“You need to work on your poker face, Langdon,” you muttered, catching his grimace when he saw the carnage.

Frank started to say something but was drowned out by Jack, still working on getting the patient sedated so he could be moved to a more secure room. “She gonna live?” he didn’t sound concerned but his eyes flicked over twice in three seconds.

“I’m fine,” you said and Frank made a face that suggested you were a spectacularly bad liar.

Robby glanced over, brows lifted in skepticism. “Yeah, she’s great,” he said, voice loaded with sarcasm. “Langdon, get her vertical, then come help Abbot.” He checked the now subdued patient’s pupils with a penlight, holding his face steady with one gloved hand.

Frank helped you up by the elbow, easy and slow, then steered you to a chair just outside the hub. You sat, head tipped forward, gaze tracing a crack in the floor.

You lifted your head as Frank switched out the gauze for a fresh pad. You saw the mess and laughed. “At least red’s my color.”

Frank stood over you with a frown. “You good until Robby gets over here, or should I get the Foley kit now?” he teased.

“You’re a real comfort, Frank.” You tried to focus on something other than the pounding in your head.

Across the hall, Jack was dressing down your partner Rick, wanting to know what the fuck happened. Robby looked over at you again, eyes narrowed in concern and annoyance.

You watched Frank leave, then closed your eyes and counted your pulse, feeling it hammer against your temples. Dana appeared before you even finished counting to sixty, her presence a wall between you and the hallway’s chaos. She bent to eye-level and gave a tight smile. “Oh, honey. He got you good.”

“Just what I needed today. Free rhinoplasty.”

Dana’s eyes narrowed and she tilted up your chin, switching out the gauze once more. She stepped back when Robby jogged over, hands in fresh gloves. He looked down at you with a doctor’s concern and the lingering irritation that it had happened in the first place.

“Let me see,” he said, already reaching for you.

You jerked back, reflexive and sharp, fear spiking through you. “Isn’t there someone else that can look at it?”

Robby’s hand hung for a second, then slowly dropped. The hub went a notch quieter as everyone listened but pretended they weren’t. He took a step closer, voice lower. “You don’t trust me?”

The hurt in his voice, immediately had you backpedaling. “Of course I do,” you retorted, looking at his chest so you didn’t have to meet his eyes. “Just—” You couldn’t make the words form. Couldn’t come up with a viable excuse. Your hands trembled a little, whether from pain or nerves you had no idea.

Robby waited, arms folded now and when you dared to look at his face, you found hurt there and a flash of something else. Offense maybe. Or disappointment.

You pressed the gauze to your nose again and tried to think of a way to explain that didn’t sound insane. You failed. Miserably.

“Look,” you said, voice barely more than a whisper. “This wasn’t supposed to happen here. Not like this anyway.”

Robby’s brow furrowed. “What does that mean?”

You looked down at the mess that covered you. You closed your fist, squeezed until the knuckles went white. You guessed time was up. “Fuck it,” you said, then reached out and grabbed Robby’s wrist, hard enough to feel his pulse under your thumb.

The world snapped. It was like a live wire had been jammed into your spine. The skin on your left forearm burned as the black ‘Michael’ shimmered and turned gold.

Your eyes locked. “Show me,” he demanded, his voice rough.

You let go of his wrist and pushed up the sleeve that covered the names on your forearm. His mouth dropped open, eyes wide in shock.

“You’re—” he started but the words stuck. “You’re Angel.”

“Nice to meet you, Michael.”

***

The golden shimmer on your forearm seared into his brain—Michael, in his own handwriting, as if he’d branded you himself. He didn’t need to look to know the same had happened to your name on his ribs. The mark he’d carried since he was twelve, the one he’d traced a thousand times, flared up in a pulse of white-hot recognition.

He tried to speak but all that came out was, “Holy shit. Christ.” He was aware of the attention you’d gotten from those in closest proximity to you. He didn’t give a damn.

Angel. It all made sense now. The way he was drawn to you, the way they both were. He’d spent years wondering if they’d find their third, and here you were rewiring every circuit in his head. For half a second the world faded to the two of you. Then you hissed, pain bringing you back to the present and Robby’s brain snapped into clinical mode. He bent and gently probed your nose with his thumbs feeling for crepitus or instability.

You winced but didn’t pull away. Not this time. He tilted your head back and used his pen light to try to get a better look but there was still too much blood.

“Septum’s midline. No obvious break but you’ll need a scan.” He continued to feel along your cheek bones making sure there was no further injury. “Were you ever going to tell us?” he asked and the words came out smaller than he’d meant for them to.

You swallowed, a miserable smile twisting your lips. “I was building up to it.”

The moment was cut short by Dana, who reappeared holding a wet rag and handed it off to Robby. “Not the time, lover boy. Clean her up.”

“Right. Sorry,” he said with a nod. He wiped as much blood from your skin as he could, trying to be gentle with your face earning a ‘son of a mother fucking bitch’ when he got to the nose. When he finished, he handed it over so you could scrub what you could from your hands and arms.

Robby stepped back, hands locked behind his neck, pacing a small manic circle in front of you. He kept looking at the gold letters on your arm, then at your face, then at the floor. The urge to say something—anything—kept crashing against the inside of his skull, but the words kept failing him.

He settled for watching you as the Pitt rolled on around them. The soulmate he’d started to think they’d never meet was sitting right in front of him. Bleeding, but still alive, and looking at him with a wild, impossible intensity.

He stood there for a long time, waiting for the gold to fade.

It never did.

Chapter Text

Robby’s emotions slammed into Jack’s sternum like a fist, hot, raw and impossible to ignore. Anger, irritation, hope, hurt—they crashed into him all at once and he couldn’t sort through them. A concerned frown tugged at his lips. He’d learned a long time ago how to filter out Robby’s emotions. He only felt them now if they were particularly strong or he focused on them.

His gaze found Robby pacing the floor in short, brisk steps. His hands were laced behind his neck, shoulders curled forward. Jack looked from him to you slumped in your chair. Color was creeping back into your face, but it was all the wrong colors—streaks of crimson that hadn’t been wiped away and the blue-purple of rising bruises. Your eyes were fixed on Robby.

Jack moved toward you, his gaze flicking from Robby’s clenched jaw to your damaged face. “How you doing, sweetheart?” his voice came out warmer than he’d intended. Both your heads snapped to him at once. A smirk lifted the corner of his lips. His eyes rested on you, letting you know that you were the reason he was there.

Robby halted mid-stride, then pivoted to face you, arms locked across his chest. He was always tightly coiled, but tonight that energy crackled. Jack could almost taste it. Seconds ticked by in silence before Robby finally snapped. “Go ahead. Tell him.” The words came out brittle, almost a dare.

Jack’s brows rose. He stepped closer, kept his voice calm to defuse the situation. “Tell me what?”

Your gaze turned icy as you glared at Robby. Jack’s chest tightened. What the hell had he missed? “Seriously. What’s going on?”

Robby let out a frustrated huff. “Meet Angel.” The sarcasm was sharp enough to slice through bone.

Jack blinked, heart stuttering. He looked at you, searched your face and only found that same glare still directed at Robby. “Wait—really?”

You looked down then and nodded once, quick and shallow, as if the gesture cost you everything.

He let the news roll over him. He’d spent most of his life hoping for this moment, and now that it was here, it didn’t feel real. Warm relief flickered through him, mingling with stunned disbelief. His lips twisted into a lopsided smile before he could help it. “Fucking hell,” he breathed. “Small world.”

Nothing in Robby softened. If anything, he only became more tense.

Jack tilted his head. “Wait. Why are you pissed? God, we’ve been waiting, hoping...” It didn’t make any sense to him. Robby should be thrilled. They’d spent more time talking about you than was probably healthy, especially because they didn’t know you were their soulmate.

That’s when Robby cracked. “She knew,” he bit out. “She fucking knew and said nothing.” The words landed heavy and you flinched.

You stood too fast, swaying on your feet for a half second before catching yourself on the counter. “I can’t do this right now. I need to close out my shift.”

Jack’s heart sank. He saw it then, beneath the irritation—the way your gaze wouldn’t settle on either of them for too long, the flash of guilt in it when it did. He reached out and caught your wrist as you tried to move past him. The feeling of the bond connecting slammed into him, hot, sharp and unmistakable. The tiny trickle of doubt he’d still had evaporated in the wake of the sensation. The mark on his thigh burned, your name a searing heat before fading into a steady, pleasant warmth beneath his scrubs.

Your eyes widened, surprise and something softer shining in their depths. “What is it, Jack?”

“You’re not leaving like that.” His gaze roamed over your face, swelling and bearing steadily darkening bruises. “We’ll talk about everything else later. Right now, you need an x-ray.”

You groaned low in her throat. “I’m fine. I’ve had worse.”

He lifted a skeptical brow, the move so familiar he could do it in his sleep and probably did. “You took a boot to the face. Humor me.”

For a second, you just stared at him as if weighing the pros and cons of doing as he asked without fighting him on it. Then you exhaled a long, angry breath. “Fine. Let me talk to my partner for a minute. I can’t just ghost.”

Jack nodded and released your wrist, half expecting you to bolt. Instead, you squared your shoulders and strode across the corridor to the medic whose uniform said Stewart. You marched up to him and said something too low to be overheard. Stewart’s eyebrows shot up and he glanced over at Jack and Robby to find them both watching.

Your partner put his attention back on you. The two of you argued, quiet but animated, you gesturing back to the hub. Stewart shook his head and grabbed you by the sleeve, pulling you further away as if you could find privacy in the middle of the ED if he just tried hard enough.

It was impossible not the hear the way Stewart’s voice spiked on the words ‘serious?’ followed by ‘what the hell are you going to do?’ You shrugged as your partner raked a hand through his hair. The two of you were too close to be mere colleagues. He didn’t like it, but Jack was glad you had someone looking out for you.

He turned as Dana stepped up behind him. “There’s shit you don’t know,” she said, voice pitched for Jack and Robby alone. “Either of you.” Her gaze moved between them before settling on you across the room.

Jack hesitated. He didn’t like secrets, but they weren’t Dana’s to tell.

Robby apparently didn’t have the same hangups about privacy. “What is it?” he asked, his tone raw and vulnerable.

Dana huffed out a breath. “Hell, I hardly know any of it, but I know enough. Just—be patient. Listen more than you talk for once.” She jabbed a finger at Jack then at Robby. “You get one shot at this so don’t fuck it up.” She disappeared just as quick as she’d came, off to do one of the countless tasks that kept the Pitt running.

Robby ran a hand down his face. “Shit. It was just a shock, that’s all.,” he said, softer than Jack had ever heard him. “I thought…I don’t know what I thought.”

Jack placed a hand on Robby’s arm, anchoring him. “It’s a lot to take in and we’re not exactly great with change. Just don’t chase her off before we even get a chance to know her, baby.”

Robby nodded, shoulders sagging. His gaze drifted to the wheelchair Dana slid over from the far end of the corridor. “Think she’ll sit in that willingly?”

Jack managed a half-smile. “Not a chance. But we’ll ask nicely.”

When you came back, Jack could see a muscle twitching in your jaw. You barely noticed the chair at first, then frowned at it like it had personally offended you.

“You going to sit without a fight?” Jack asked. “Or do we need to beg?”

You eyed the chair then him. “Can’t I walk?”

“I’m sure you can,” he said lightly. “But it’s a trek to radiology and we try not to let possible concussions roam around on their own two feet. Bad for the insurance rates.”

Your shoulders sagged and you lowered herself into the seat with a sigh, wincing at the jolt that went through you at the action. You clenched the armrests, jaw tight.

Robby crouched in front of you, hands on the arms of the chair. His anger had evaporated, replaced by genuine concern. “How are you feeling?” he asked quietly, eyes sincere.

“Like I got kicked in the face,” you freely admitted. “Got an aspirin?”

“Where are you at on the pain scale?” Robby asked in full doctor mode.

You hesitated then shrugged. “Five. Maybe six. It’s not bad if I don’t breathe.”

Robby snorted. “Easy fix, then.” He stood and stepped out of the way so Jack could do a quick check of your pupils.

You tolerated it and even leaned into his hand a little when he cradled your head to feel your skull with his fingers. He met Robby’s eye over your head, having a full conversation about pain relief and dosage with just a look. Jack ducked out and returned in less than two minutes with an ampule, a syringe and a band aid dotted with rainbow smiley faces. He sat it all on the counter and gloved up.

“Any drug allergies?” he asked, tone clipped and professional.

You watched him load the syringe. “Penicillin, but try not to let that out. It’ll kill my reputation.”

He flicked the syringe once then swabbed your arm. He pushed the plunger in slow, watching you for any sign of reaction. When he finished, he placed the band aid over the injection sight. You didn’t need it but studies proved everyone felt better with a smiley face bandage. Especially the rainbow ones.

“What was that?” you asked, flexing her hand.

“Just enough morphine to take the edge off,” Jack said. “If you want enough to hallucinate, you have to ask nicely.”

Dana reappeared then, icepack in hand. She handed it to you.

“I love you, Dana. You’re my favorite,” you said, laying the cold against your nose.

“Hey,” Jack protested in mock offense. “We’re right here.”

You tilted your head with a smirk. “You haven’t earned it yet.”

Jack heard Robby chuckle behind him, sounding completely relaxed for the first time in the last hour. He’d take it as a win. “Let us do handoff,” Jack said. “Then Robby will take you for your x-ray. See if the damage is as bad as it looks.”

You closed your eyes and sighed as you sunk back against the chair. “Aye, aye, captain.”

Robby lingered until Jack nudged him with a shoulder. “The world won’t end if we leave her alone for five minutes.”

***

You watched your soulmates walk away and tried to quell your inner panic that screamed that this was all too easy. That they were only pretending to accept you because they were in the middle of their work and didn’t want to cause a scene. Once they were away from here, they’d reject you, never want to see you again.

Dana leaned next to you. “How you holding up?”

You lifted one eye to peer at her around the icepack in disbelief at the question.

Dana smirked. “Your nose will be fine. I meant how are you doing with the two idiots that just discovered they’re your soulmates.”

“Still processing,” you admitted.

“No, you’re waiting for the other shoe to drop,” Dana countered.

You swallowed past the lump in your throat. “I can’t help it.”

“Give them a chance. They might surprise you.”

You nodded, hoping your friend was right but fear still churned in your gut.

“So,” Dana said with a dramatic pause, “should I point out that Robby was wearing gloves and wouldn’t have triggered the bond if you hadn’t touched him? Or would you rather I not?”

Your eyes went wide before you squeezed them shut in irritation with a groan. Dana moved away, her cackles trailing behind her as she went.

Chapter Text

Dana checked on you one more time, giving you a fresh ice pack before gathering her things to go. She patted Robby’s shoulder on the way by. “Take care of the doc,” she said and disappeared before he could roll his eyes.

Jack looked from Robby to Dana’s retreating form and back again. “Why do I need to be taken care of?” Jack asked, looking genuinely confused.

Robby bit back a laugh, realizing Jack had yet to be filled in on their soulmate’s other secret. “She was talking about Angel.”

Jack frowned, now looking from Robby to you. “She’s the one bleeding. Shouldn’t we be taking care of her?”

At that, he couldn’t bite back the laugh any longer. “I mean Angel is the doc in question. She’s a doctor.” Robby savored every word as it landed, seeing Jack just as off kilter by the information as he’d been earlier.

His eyebrows shot up as his jaw dropped. “No way.”

They moved back in your direction. Robby nodded. “Yep. Dana told me this morning.”

You glared at them over your icepack. “You two done gossiping?”

“Never,” Jack protested. He shook his head. “You seriously never thought to mention it?”

You shrugged, the movement making you wince. “It didn’t seem relevant.”

“Didn’t seem—” Robby broke off, almost laughing. “You’re something else, you know that?”

“Would you believe me if I said I was trying to be humble?” you asked without looking up, just keeping the cold pressed against your face.

Robby considered it. “Not for a second.”

Before Jack could add his own two cents, Lena’s voice broke across their conversation. “Three car MVC, four victims. ETA three minutes.”

“Shit,” he said. “I’m up, but I’m getting this full story later.” He shifted focus to Robby. “Take care of her.” Then he was gone.

Robby grabbed the handles of your wheelchair and steered you toward the elevator. “Shall we, Doctor?”

You huffed a laugh. “You don’t sound so mad anymore.” Your voice was softer around the edges, less charged as if you’d lost some of your irritation as well.

“Still deciding how I feel,” he said, decided to be honest. “But I figure I’ll reserve judgement until I know the whole story.”

You twisted in the chair to look back at him. “That’s very mature of you, Dr. Robinavitch.”

He snorted. “Isn’t it? Feels weird.”

The elevator was freezing as it usually was. Robby pushed the button with his knuckle then leaned against the wall, one hand on the chair.

“You’re really not mad?” your voice was quiet.

He took a second before answering. “Not at you. Fate, maybe. Or myself for not seeing it.”

You didn’t reply, but your shoulders relaxed, just a fraction.

When the door opened, the waiting area outside radiology was empty except for one guy in scrubs scrolling on his phone, probably waiting for a patient. He parked you in the hall and checked in with a tech. That done, he leaned on the wall beside you and waited for your turn. The silence stretched between you until Robby finally broke it.

“So, when did you know about us?” he asked.

You fiddled with the now warm icepack lying in your lap. “Girl’s night. Dana saw my license, recognized the name.”

Robby blinked. “That’s it? Two days?”

You nodded but then hesitated. “Well, I suspected before then but didn’t know for sure.”

The corner of his lips lifted in mild amusement. “Of course you did.”

“I hoped, maybe,” you continued. “No one ever really…did much for me, you know? I dated but I was never gone over any of them like my friends.” Your thumb traced over your band aid. “Then I met you two and wow. I knew your names matched the ones on my arm, but what if I was wrong? Or what if I wasn’t and you were disappointed?”

Robby snorted. “You think we’d be disappointed? In you?”

You shrugged again, smaller this time.

He studied you for a moment, the way your leg bounced, the restless way you kept looking anywhere but at him. “Not disappointed,” he said. “Promise.”

You looked up in surprise.

“Let’s wait and have this conversation with Jack.” He reached over and squeezed your hand, the contact sending a subtle thrill up his arm, as if the soulbond was a live wire just under the skin. “Then you don’t have to do it twice.”

You didn’t say anything but he could see the relief in your gaze.

“We’re also going to need the full story on you being a doctor,” he said to change the topic. “I want the full uncut version. Ethics violations. Every time you made a resident cry. Every time you made your attending cry.”

“There’s a lot of crying in your version, Robby.” You rolled your eyes.

“It’s medical school.,” he said as if that explained everything, and it kind of did.

A door opened and a tech stepped into the hall and said your name. You pushed yourself up before Robby could protest and walked over to the man. You glanced back at the door as if making certain he was still there. “See you in five.”

He let his head fall back against the wall behind him with a sigh, running this crazy day through his head. Jesus. He ran a hand down his face and chuckled to himself. This fucking day, man. When you stepped back into the hall, the tech trailed behind. He passed the tablet with the scan on it to Robby.

He pulled on his glasses to get a better look. No breaks other a thin hairline along the bridge of your nose. You’d be fine with some tape for support. “Thank you,” he said, passing the tablet back. He put his glasses away and turned to you to deliver the verdict. You blinked at him with an unreadable expression.

“What?” he asked, suddenly feeling very self-conscious.

You blinked and cleared your throat. “I don’t think I’ve seen you in glasses before. That’s all.”

He arched a brow not quite believing you. “Hmm. We’ll tape your nose and you’ll be good to go.”

He wheeled you back to the hub. The previous trauma seemed to have already been dealt with, the board lit up with four new admits, three for observation and one for the ICU. You slumped in the chair as he finished taping your nose, obviously exhausted. “Can I go home now?”

Robby folded his arms and did his best Chief Attending impression. “Discharge instructions: No driving until the morphine wears off, ice the face, ibuprofen as needed. Call if the pain gets worse or you can’t breathe through it. How are you getting home?”

“Uber?” you said hopefully.

His lips pulled into a frown. “Absolutely not.” When you opened your mouth to protest, he cut you off. “You’re covered in blood. Even if they are picking you up at the hospital, it will raise some eyebrows. Let me take you home. Then we’ll know you made it and won’t worry so much.”

You sighed but agreed with no argument. You really must be tired. “Let me give Jack an update and we’ll go.”

He found the man in question hovering at the edge of a trauma bay watching the residents do their work. He glanced over when he felt Robby’s presence. “She good?”

“Hairline. I taped her up. I’m going to steal the truck to take her home. I’ll bring it back,” Robby told him.

Jack shook his head. “Just bring it in the morning. It’s not like I’ll need it before then.”

Robby nodded, squeezing his shoulder before he left. He found you where he’d left you unwrapping a sucker with your teeth. “Want one?” you asked.

He wrinkled his nose. “I’m not five. Where’d you get that anyway?”

“Lena gave it to me.”

He glanced at the charge nurse who shrugged. “What? She was a good patient.”

Robby shook his head and helped you stand. “You head toward the bay. I’ll grab my crap from my locker.” He pointed at you. “And so help me if you leave without me…”

He trailed off and you just grinned at him. “Relax, doc. You’re so high strung.”

Lena snorted a laugh but her face looked the picture of innocence when he glanced at her. He just hurried off to get his stuff, stealing Jack’s keys from his locker. He found you waiting for him just inside the ambulance bay doors, and some tenseness faded from his shoulders. You left the Pitt together. Robby helped you get settled in the passenger seat, then got behind the wheel and started the engine.

The truck was clean as it always was and smelled faintly of the coffee Jack had drunk on the way into work. The drive was quiet, but not awkward, both of you just decompressing from the day. He followed your soft directions to a street lined with duplexes and pulled over where you indicated. He killed the engine and waited.

“Thanks,” you said, your voice so quiet he barely heard it.

He hesitated, then said, “I don’t like leaving you alone.”

You huffed a laugh. “Oh, I’m not alone.” You pointed to a building a bit down the block overflowing with people. “I got injured on shift. They’ll be here to check on me. Plus, Rick probably told them all about you being my soulmates. I won’t be getting rid of any of them until after a thorough interrogation.”

Robby relaxed a little. “Get some rest. And let us know if you need anything.”

You smiled, tired but sincere. “Sure, doc.”

He watched you walk to the door, watched it open and swallow you up. When the door closed, he waited a moment longer before heading home.

Sleep evaded him that night as he tossed and turned with worry. The sheets twisted around his legs. He thought about texting you just to check in but realized that he didn’t even have your number. He was an idiot. “Fuck.”

His phone buzzed and he fumbled for it before sliding it open.

Dana: She says to quit worrying and go to sleep. She’s fine.

He barked out a laugh then typed back. You sure?

Dana: As sure as I am that you’re an idiot. You didn’t even get her number? I taught you better than that.

Robby: You taught me to get women’s numbers? Jack will be so disappointed in you. Give me her number.

Dana: Nope.

Robby: Give her ours.

Dana: Already did. She’ll call you if she needs something.

He sat the phone down, stared at the ceiling and finally drifted to sleep.

Chapter Text

The next morning Jack and Robby had already completed handoff but both were still huddled at the hub in front of Dana, waiting for her to crack. She looked at them unimpressed over the top of her glasses as she sipped her coffee.

“Come on, Dana,” Robby pressed as he shifted his weight on his feet. “Just give us the number. It’s not like were going to prank call her, for fuck’s sake.”

He offered her a winning grin but she didn’t even blink. “You want her number, get it off her chart.” She drained the rest of her coffee as she skimmed over something on the computer. “That’s what patient charts are for.”

Jack grunted, crossing his arms. “That is the exact opposite of what they’re for, actually.” He raised an eyebrow and exchanged a glance with Robby.

Dana just gave him a deadpan stare for even insinuating she’d been serious. “It is not my job to run your social lives, Abbot. Should have asked the girl for her number when she was here. Or anytime since you two first saw her and about tripped over yourselves.”

Robby shot a desperate look to Jack seeking backup. Jack just shrugged. They weren’t going to get anything out of the charge nurse she wasn’t willing to give. And she liked Katrina—Angel, they all did. Dana’s fierce protectiveness was legendary. If she wasn’t giving, no amount of charming or bargaining would budge her.

Robby leaned forward on the counter. “Please. I’m not above begging. I just want to check on her.”

Dana’s lips twitched. “Wild idea, why not just wait for her to show up? She always does.” Her tone was laced with amusement.

Jack was amused, despite himself. There was something satisfying about seeing his unflappable soulmate thrown into chaos by a medic with steel gray eyes and a riot of curls. He was enjoying every second of it until a voice cut through the chatter of the hub.

“Quit pestering the poor charge nurse. She has enough to do without you two harassing her.” The voice was soft but confident and tinged with humor.

Jack turned and there she was. Angel had traded her EMS gear for a pair of black scrubs and a gray cardigan a touch lighter than her eyes. Her face was mottled in shades of black, blue and purple and she wore a single strip of tape across the bridge of her nose. He found himself smiling at the spark of mischief in her eyes.

Robby spun around, hands already reaching for her arms, but Jack stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. They closed in around her, not crowding but shielding her from the rest of the hub.

“What are you doing here?” Robby asked, words tripping over each other. He swallowed. “Shit, are you even okay to work?”

Jack nudged him with an elbow. “Calm down, Mike, and let her talk.”

Dana snorted and Jack caught Princess and Perlah at the end of the desk, both pretending not to listen but very much hanging on every syllable.

Jack reached out with slow, deliberate care and tilted Katrina’s chin, coaxing her head gently from side to side to examine the bruising. “How you feeling, Angel?”

She blinked and then smiled wide. “Like I got kicked in the face.”

Jack said the last four words with her and grinned. “That’s because you did.”

She snorted, then winced when the movement tugged at the tape.

He let go, though it was the last thing he wanted to do. “Why are you in scrubs?” he asked even as he scanned the rest of her outfit for clues.

Robby’s eyes widened just now noticing her attire.

Katrina let the silence stretch, the hub going quiet as all the eavesdroppers awaited her answer. She grinned again. “I’m the new floating attending for the ED.”

As soon as she said the word attending, Jack felt something loosen as a little of the perpetual tension eased. Robby’s smile lit his face. “Are you—are you serious?” Disbelief colored his words.

She shrugged. “Dana knew. Asked her to keep it quiet until I walked in. I wanted to see your faces.”

Dana who’d been the master of the poker face until then, finally smirked. “Best prank in years. I approve.”

Jack tried stifle the grin that spread across his face. “It’s about damn time. And I’m fucking thrilled it’s you.” The words came out in a flood of gratitude and relief.

Katrina quirked an eyebrow. “Because I’m your soulmate or because you need the help?”

Robby hummed, eyes bright. “Not because of the soulmate thing. We know you know what you’re doing. The bond is just…” He shrugged, cheeks coloring.

“A bonus,” Jack finished for him.

She nodded, approval in her eyes. “Good answer.”

Dana still chuckling, shook her head. “This is better than a daytime soap. Things are going to get a lot more entertaining around here. You two done falling at her feet or do you want to kiss in the supply closet next?”

Robby turned scarlet and Jack felt heat rise in his neck. “That was one time, Dana,” Robby muttered, voice dropping an octave.

“Yeah, we make out on the roof now,” Jack added and was rewarded with Angel’s laughter while Robby uttered a quiet ‘Jesus’ beside him. He finally tore his eyes from their newfound mate and glanced to Dana. “I think that’s enough drama for now.”

Dana raised her mug in a mock salute. “Then get the hell out of here. Some of us have to run this circus without a full support staff.”

Jack gave a two finger wave and Robby rolled his eyes, but the smile never left his face. It was good to see. “Mind showing me the locker room?” Katrina asked, brushing a wayward curl behind her ear.

“Happy to,” Jack said and started down the hall. He tilted his head to get a better look at her profile. He felt a surge of protectiveness that he shoved down. “Impressive bruising,” he observed, only half joking.

She huffed a laugh. “I’m not one to do things halfway, Jack.”

He liked the way she said his name. That she’d used his first name at all, even if he had been calling her Angel almost exclusively since he’d discovered the truth.  He opened the door. “It’s not much to look at.”

“I’ve had worse,” she said with a shrug. He didn’t ask even though he very much wanted to. He filed that away with all the other things he had to ask her about.

It was a small room with lockers lining the walls and a bench running down the middle. A counter with a sink sat to one side and he went over and grabbed a roll of masking tape and a marker out of a drawer. “Pick a locker, any locker. Tape your name to the front. Helps the janitors know what to throw out when we die of exhaustion.”

She took the tape from him and ripped off a length of it. Instead of slapping it on the nearest empty spot, she paused looking thoughtful.

Jack watched her. “What is it?”

She shrugged. “Feels weird to pick one at random. Like I’m trespassing or something.”

Jack pursed his lips, eyes shifting between her and the bank of lockers. Then, before he really registered what he was doing, he peeled the tape off his own locker and moved it one slot to the left. “There. Now you can be between me and Robby.”

Katrina watched him do it, a slow smile creeping across her face. “Thanks, Abbot Jack.”

He wiped his hands on his pants and motioned for the marker. “Let me?” She held out the tape and he slapped it on the locker before writing Sparks and underlining it twice. “There. It’s official.”

She smoothed the edges of the tape down with her fingertips. “Not a bad place to land, all things considered.”

He liked the way it looked, the three names lined up. As if the universe was finally making sense.

He set the code on his new locker, then opened the old one and started transferring things over. “What’s your schedule?” he asked as he worked, darting her the occasional glance.

“I have to do all the admin crap today, then I have a meeting tomorrow. After that, I’m on nights with you for three, then swing to days with Robby for two.”

Jack ran over the calendar in his head and frowned. “Damn it. I’m off the next two nights. I wanted to be there when you started.”

The corner of her lips curled. “I know. I meant what I said. I’m on when you come back.”

He studied her face for a minute. “Come home with Robby tonight? We can talk. Have dinner.”

She tilted her head considering, that spark of mischief in her eyes again. “I’ll consider it.”

“That’s just fine, Angel,” he said, but couldn’t help the disappointment that settled in his gut. Hopefully, he’d kept it out of his voice.

He helped her set a new code on her locker and waited while she hung her cardigan inside after pulling a purple stethoscope out of the pocket and draping it around her neck. He arched a brow. “Thought you were doing admin today?”

“Better to be prepared.”

Jack nodded as he grabbed his bag to head home. They walked together until she peeled off at the hub while he continued toward the bay. She paused just long enough to look back over her shoulder and give him a wave and a smile.

He returned it, watched until she settled at the counter to talk to Dana, then let himself breathe. He almost made it to the exit before his phone buzzed in his pocket. He slipped it out and blinked at the screen.

Unknown: See you tonight

He laughed and typed back: Looking forward to it. He slid his phone back into his pocket and headed for his truck, already counting down the hours until he saw her again.

Chapter Text

By 1100, the regular chaos of the Pitt was in full swing. Robby hadn’t seen you since you’d disappeared into the administration labyrinth upstairs. He didn’t envy you even if he was up to his ears in flu cases at the moment. He honestly didn’t think he’d see you again today at all. New hire paperwork was its own special circle of hell.

He squinted at a lab result on the tablet that made no sense. He scrolled back to the patient information making sure he was thinking of the right case. When he confirmed, he switched back to the lab results that still weren’t coherent. He was reaching for the phone to call the lab when a voice spoke right next to his ear.

“Are you normally the only attending on your shift?”

Robby jerked, his elbow knocking into the counter. He hissed and rubbed it as he turned to find you standing beside him. Your arms were crossed, your brows drawn together in concern though you couldn’t hide the trace of amusement at having startled him.

“Jesus,” he said and rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “How long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough to watch you frown at those lab results like you could scare them into changing.” You gestured at the tablet. “You’re not crazy. There’s no way that sodium is right unless the patient is actually a pickle. Better have it redrawn and resubmit. You know they’ll never admit it’s their error.”

Robby supposed that was universal for all hospitals. He nodded and glanced at Perlah. “Redraw a rainbow in 8, please. We’ll just have them rerun the lot.” He set the tablet down and turned back to you. “You sneak up on everyone or am I just special?”

You shrugged. “You didn’t answer my question about being the only attending.”

He sighed. “Yes, usually. I have two R3s who aren’t totally useless and a handful of med students who are.”

“No senior residents?” You peered at the board, scanning through the names.

“Lost my R4 to Presby last month.” He tried to keep the bitterness out of his voice but failed.

You snorted. “Idiot.”

The corner of Robby’s mouth twitched upward. “They’ve got better parking.”

“And worse mortality rates,” you said, eyebrows arched. “Plus, half the senior staff are assholes.”

Robby shrugged. “We’re a level one trauma center. Not everyone can hack it. Besides, rumor has it you might be a bit biased when it comes to Presby.”

You narrowed your gaze but didn’t rise to the bait. “So you are the only senior staff when it comes to doctors on the day shift?”

“Well, not now that you’re here. Langdon and Collins are due to move up to R4 in a couple of months. Dr. Lodecker covers for me on my days off which aren’t many. It’s just the way it is,” he said, not liking it but there wasn’t much he could do about it besides complain to Gloria who didn’t give a shit.

“I suppose coverage is why you and Jack are on opposite shifts.”

Robby nodded. “Jack likes nights. It sucks not seeing each other much but I try to make sure our schedules line up. Gloria tried to put a stop to that and we threatened to quit.”

You pursed your lips but didn’t say anything and Robby wondered what was going through your head. Your gaze drifted over the ED taking in everyone doing their jobs.

“You done for the day?” he asked.

“No,” you said. “Well, yes but you’re my ride so I thought I’d stick around.”

He furrowed his brow in confusion. “I’m your ride?”

You hummed in agreement.

He blinked at you. “Well, then we have a problem because I walked.”

You grinned. “Then I guess we’re walking. Jack invited me over for dinner.”

He found himself genuinely smiling now, the first real one in hours. “He did?”

“Yeah. I hope that’s okay.”

“Of course.” The words came out too quick, too eager. Robby cleared his throat. “I mean, yeah. We should talk.”

A look passed between you and Robby found himself studying your face. Not just the bruising, but the faint lines at the corners of your eyes, the crooked smile twisting your lips, the way you always seemed to be ready for the next adventure.

You were the one that broke the silence. “You going to put me to work or do I just stand here looking pretty?”

Robby huffed a laugh. “You on the clock?”

“Technically, no. But I am an official employee of the hospital as of 0700, so consider it pro bono consulting,” you said.

“In that case, let me introduce you to everyone. Properly this time.”

“Sounds like a plan, Dr. Robinavitch.” Your voice was teasing and your gaze remained steady on his.

Something warm settled in Robby’s chest. He stepped back from the counter and gestured to the floor with a sweeping arm inviting you to follow. He moved the short distance to the cluster of nurses at one end of the hub. “This is most of our day shift support staff though I’m sure you already—”

“Yo, Kat, you really a doctor?” Mateo asked with a grin.

A muscle in Robby’s jaw twitched. “Dr. Sparks is our new attending and will be splitting her time between day and night shift.”

“Thank god,” Princess said. “Maybe now we can finish a report without someone coding in the hallway.”

Robby shook his head and sighed. “I’m sure you already know everyone but this is Donnie, Mateo, Perlah and Princess. Jesse is around here somewhere. Get back to work,” he instructed.

Perlah came up to you instead of going to a patient room. “Hey you remember that MVC you brought in last Thursday?”

“The one with the shattered leg?”

Perlah nodded and you two immediately fell into conversation. You spoke in the shorthand of people who’d worked the same case, referencing details and moments he hadn’t been a part of. It struck him then how much of your life he’d missed while you’d been circling his orbit. How many times had you been in the ED saving lives and building relationships while he’d been too focused on the work to see the person behind it?

You made your way around the department, stopping to speak with techs and the security guard along with a couple of the med students. Everyone greeted you as an old friend rather than a newcomer. Once you’d met everyone you could without ducking into patient rooms, you ended up back at the hub. Dana was sitting at the computer typing something.

When Robby picked up a tablet you piped up. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to the charge nurse, Dr. Robinavitch?”

Robby blinked. “No. No, I am not.”

Dana’s snort of laughter had you both smiling. “Smart man. I might steal her from you.”

“Too late, I’m afraid,” Robby said, voice lacking any heat.

Dana pushed her glasses up into her hair. “Hey, new girl, want to get some air? I need a smoke and you look like you could use a break from our domineering Chief Attending.”

“Yes, please,” you said. “Your name was Dana, right?”

Robby rolled his eyes. “You two are hilarious. Go. Find me when you get back,” he instructed.

***

Dana lit her cigarette the moment she’d stepped far enough away from the door. The bay was quiet for once. She exhaled a plume of smoke upward. “So, how’s it going?”

You crossed your arms over your chest and tapped your foot. “Interesting.”

“Interesting good or interesting bad?”

“Interesting like there are some major administrative failings at this hospital.” Your voice had lost its warmth, replaced by a clinical sharpness.

Dana wondered what you had encountered this morning to already see what the rest of them did. She huffed a humorless laugh. “You don’t say” She took another drag. “Where do you want me to start? Chronic understaffing? Shit pay? Security issues?”

“All of the above,” you said, watching an ambulance turn into the lot, lights off, no rush.

“We’re down eight nurses and at least two attendings even taking you into consideration. Turnovers high because Gloria won’t approve the budget for competitive wages so we keep losing people to Presby and UPMC. Meanwhile, we have boarding issues because they don’t have the beds upstairs but we have entire floors not being used because we don’t have the staff.”

You nodded, listening with the focus of someone filing away every detail.

Dana continued. “Wait times can be upward of ten hours on bad days. Patient satisfaction scores are in the toilet. Gloria blames Robby, says he needs to manage flow better, whatever the hell that means.”

“It’s not a flow issue if you’re parking beds in the ED. That’s a systemic issue,” you said.

“Try telling her that.” Dana flicked her ash onto the pavement. “She’s got the board convinced its because the staff is lazy rather than there not being enough of us.”

You looked at her then to the building behind her. “How long has this been going on?”

“Three years give or take. Getting worse every year. But in the last six months we’ve lost three attendings and six nurses and that’s just in the Pitt. Jack and Robby are holding it together with duct tape and pure spite.”

Your face hardened, eyes narrowing. “And nobody’s done anything?”

Dana shrugged. “What can we do? Strike? In this economy?”

You were quiet for a long moment while Dana finished her cigarette. Then with a suddenness that startled Dana, you straightened up. “I’ll be back. I need to see to some things.”

“What things?” Dana frowned.

“Things,” you repeated, already moving toward the door. “Tell Robby I’ll find him later, okay?”

Dana watched you disappear into the building, concern etching deeper lines into her forehead. There was something in your expression she recognized. It was the face of someone about to do something either very brave or very stupid. Maybe both.

She stubbed out her cigarette and sighed. She sure as helped you didn’t get yourself fired on your first day. Your soulmates would never let Dana hear the end of it.

Chapter Text

Dana Evans tapped her fingers on the edge of the desk, eyes narrowing as you slipped through the double doors at the far end of the ED. You had a legal pad and were scribbling furiously with a pen as you walked. You were definitely up to something. She just wished she could figure out what. You moved like you’d worked there for years, not hours, always knowing exactly which paths to take and which to avoid. You were making yourself suspiciously at home for someone that had just signed their paperwork that morning.

She watched your movements over the top of her glasses. “You see that?” she asked as Robby stepped up to the counter beside her.

Robby followed her gaze, brow furrowing. “What the hell is she doing?”

“No idea.” Dana shook her head slowly once. “It’s the third time I’ve seen her loop through here. Sticking her head in doorways. Taking notes. She doesn’t stop to talk to anyone. Just walks through like she’s memorizing the place.”

They watched as you opened the door to the medication room, glanced inside then continued toward the back hallway. Your steps were almost leisurely, but your eyes never stopped moving and you never stopped making notes.

“Maybe she’s just getting her bearings,” Robby offered, but his voice was heavy with doubt.

Dana snorted. “Please. If that’s all she was doing, she would have stopped by now. She’s looking for something.”

You disappeared around the corner.

“Maybe she’s avoiding something.” Robby tried to sound nonchalant but failed miserably.

“She’s not avoiding you, Robby. This is something else.” Her frowned deepened and a line appeared between her brows. “She’s been up those back stairs more times today than you have in a week.”

A gurney clattered past, drawing their attention. Once they registered the patient was on the way to radiology. They shifted their focus back to the enigma that was you.

“Look,” Dana said, sounding surprised. She pointed with her chin toward the elevator. “How did she get over there? We only looked away for a minute.”

You were standing near the elevators, notepad tucked under your arm. You caught Dana’s eye and lifted your hand in an easy wave before ducking inside the car with the gurney.

Robby swore under his breath with a light chuckle. “She’s like a damn ghost drifting in and out.” He shook his head and left to do patient rounds.

When he made it back to the hub, it was clear his mind was still on his soulmate. “What do you think she’s up to?”

Dana shook her head. “Trouble. Or maybe she’s gathering ammunition.”

Robby’s eyebrows shot up. “Against who?”

Before Dana could answer, her attention was caught by a commotion near the trauma rooms. Frank was demonstrating something to the junior staff and Robby went over to supervise.

And there you were, materializing at Robby’s elbow as if you’d been there all along. Dana couldn’t hear the exchange but she did see Robby startle at your sudden appearance. His face did that thing it always did when he was irritated but trying to be professional. A tight smile that never reached his eyes, the muscle in his jaw flexing.

As the two of you stepped away from the trauma bay, Robby looked down at you. “Where did you disappear to?” Irritation threaded his words.

You shrugged, the picture of innocence except for the knowing light in your eyes. “Just had some stuff to see to.”

“Stuff,” Robby repeated flatly. “In my hospital.”

“Well, I mean it’s not really your hospital. You don’t own it,” you corrected, voice mild. “And if you’re saying it’s yours because you work here then that would make it our hospital.”

Dana suppressed a smile. You were certainly going to give Jack and Robby a run for their money and she was going to enjoy every bit of it. The residents looked like they were watching a tennis match, heads swiveling from you to Robby and back again.

He studied you for a long moment his expression unreadable. Then he seemed to make a decision and turned back to the residents with a brisk nod. “Langdon, find me when you’re finished.”

Frank’s gaze shifted from Robby to you, where it lingered with undisguised curiosity. “Sure, Robby.” He nodded once and turned back to the patient.

Whatever game you were playing, Dana had to admit you were good at it. She just hoped Robby knew what he was getting into personally and professionally. Dana had seen enough trouble stirred up in this hospital to know you were just getting started.

***

Robby guided you to the triage board, hyper aware of your presence at his side. He was surprised you didn’t disappear on him again. The board loomed before you, divided into neat columns. Name, complaint, location, wait time. Too many of those times were edging past the six-hour mark, a fact that gnawed at him every time he glanced at the screen.

You studied the board, your eyes scanning over the color-coded entries. “So, they handle what they can in triage and send the other stuff back here?”

Robby nodded. “Yeah. Stitches, basic illnesses can all be handled there for the most part.” He gestured in the direction of the triage rooms. “Usually have a resident or two and a nurse assigned there.”

“ENPs?”

“We don’t have any,” Robby said shaking his head. God, he’d give a kidney for even one nurse practitioner to take over triage.

You hummed and he had no idea what it was supposed to mean. You frowned at the board and tilted your head. “Why are your wait times so long?”

Robby’s shoulders stiffened immediately. He’d fought this battle with administration, with Gloria, with the board. It always ended in an argument about resources and efficiency. The implication that it was somehow his failing, his mismanagement, never failed to get him heated. He did not need this shit from you, too.

“We’re chronically understaffed,” he said, the words clipped. “And—”

You placed a hand on his arm, your touch light but firm enough to interrupt his building tirade. “That’s not what I meant.”

He glanced down at your hand, then at your face, surprised by the contact and the earnestness in your expression.

“I meant that this is a trauma center,” you explained, your voice low enough the passing staff couldn’t overhear. “Why are people coming here for basic care? Why are they not informed when they arrive of the wait and given other options for care? There are how many hospitals, urgent care and family care centers in this city? Why aren’t they being rerouted?”

The tension in Robby’s shoulders eased as he realized you weren’t criticizing him but identifying the core issue he’d been fighting for years. “Because they show up in our lobby and we can’t legally turn them away once they’re here. And because the system is broken.”

He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “People don’t know where to go. The uninsured come here because they know we’ll treat them. Half the time, patients don’t even know what constitutes an emergency.”

“This should be addressed before they’re even registered as a patient.”

Robby huffed out a long breath. “I have this argument with Gloria frequently. She thinks we should just process them faster, as if we’re deliberately being slow.”

“And how are you supposed to do that with only two triage rooms and no staff?” Your gaze narrowed and something dangerous flashed in your eyes. A calculation was being made. Then it was gone, replaced by a thoughtful nod.

“I have noticed less of that shit coming here by rig though,” Robby added. The ambulance arrivals had shifted over the past few months. They were getting fewer case that should have gone to urgent care, more genuine emergencies.

You nodded, a small smile playing at the corner of your mouth. “Yeah, they did a bit of restructuring. No more dumping at the nearest facility unless it was emergent. Patients were being routed to the appropriate ED. Trauma centers don’t get ear aches and dehydration.”

Robby stared at you and the pieces clicked into place. “That was you.”

You shrugged but didn’t deny it. “I may have made some suggestions. They liked them and implemented what they could.”

“Thank fuck for that.” He didn’t bother to hide his relief. “It’s made a difference.”

“Glad to hear it. But there’s a lot more that could be done.”

He studied your profile, appreciating the strategic mind of his soulmate. You weren’t just a skilled doctor, you saw the systems beneath it. The flow of healthcare through the city. It’s successes and more importantly, the failures.

“Like what?” he asked curious.

“Oh, I have a list,” you said with a glint in your eye that he found both exhilarating and terrifying. “But it’s nothing you can do. It has to come from the top.”

Robby shook his head with a bitter smile. “Gloria won’t listen to any of it. Even if she did hire you, you’re new. She won’t listen to me and I’m the Chief Attending.”

The corner of your mouth curled into a smile. “Oh, Gloria didn’t hire me. I’ve never met her.”

He blinked once. Twice. “Excuse me?”

“Never met her,” you repeated.

“That was not the part I was referring to and you know it. What do you mean Gloria didn’t hire you?” he asked.

You simply grinned, showing all your teeth.

He shook his head and pointed at you. “Nope. That’s not going to work. Gloria is literally the only one with the authority to hire you to work in the ED without consulting me.”

“I was recommended to the board. They hired me.” You said it so casually as if that wasn’t the most insane thing he’d ever heard. That…that just wasn’t done. Who the fuck were you?

He almost asked the question out loud before he caught Langdon approaching from the corner of his eye. His face was set in that familiar neutral expression that Robby recognized as Frank’s professional mask. The one he wore when he was reading a situation trying to determine how to act.

“What’s up?” he asked. His gaze flicked between Robby and you, lingering on the latter.

Robby straightened. “I want to officially introduce you to our new floating attending even though you already know her. Dr. Katrina Sparks meet Dr. Frank Langdon, one of our R3s.”

Frank stared at you, his eyebrows rising slightly. “Weren’t you an EMT two days ago?”

The question was tinged with enough disbelief to have Robby feeling defensive on your behalf. Before he could respond, you nodded solemnly.

“I was. Got bored and decided to become an attending. How hard could it be?” You shrugged and Robby resisted the urge to facepalm.

Frank just stared at you.

You flashed a grin. “Just kidding, Langdon. I’m fully certified and everything. Took a break post-pandemic.”

He processed this information. “Ah,” he said with a nod. “Welcome, I guess.” Without another word, he turned and walked away.

Robby frowned as he watched the other man retreat. That wasn’t the reaction he’d expected. It was, in fact, the coldest reception he’d seen you receive all day. “Well, that went well,” he muttered more to himself than you.

“He’s worried I took his spot,” you said as you leaned against the counter.

He turned to you, surprised. “What?”

“He’s probably expecting to be considered for an attending position when he finishes his residency. He knows you guys haven’t been hiring and I show up and take what he’s afraid is the only position.”

Robby’s eyes widened as he realized you were probably right. “Shit.” He hadn’t even considered that. Frank had been dropping hints about wanting to stay at PTMC after graduation even asking about the hiring process and mentioning how much he’d learned here.

You shrugged. “It’ll be fine. He’ll get over it. Besides, if he’s good there’ll be a spot for him.”

He studied your face, struck by your confidence. “You sure about that?” he asked. “Gloria’s been cutting positions, not adding them.”

“Gloria doesn’t make all the decisions,” you replied, a hint of something flickering across your face.

Before he could press you on your cryptic comment, Dana announced an incoming trauma. He glanced at you. “You up for it, Dr. Sparks?”

“Always.”

***

It was nearing handoff and Robby was leaning against the hub updating a chart, half-listening to Dana talk to one of the nurses about upcoming plans. He glanced up when the bay doors opened and spotted the EMT you’d talked to the other night—Stewart, Robby thought his name was—walk through the doors.

Stewart was imposing for lack of a better word. Tall and solid with a build that suggested frequent trips to the gym. His blond hair, blue eyes and easy smile had more than one nurse giving him a second glance. Unlike most EMTs that entered the Pitt, he moved with an easy gait, running his gaze over the department as he went. He wasn’t here on a call. There was no gurney, no equipment bag. He carried only a dark backpack slung over one shoulder, his free hand shoved into his pocket.

When he spotted you moving in his direction, a wide grin split his face. Robby watched over the top of his glasses, chart in his hand still awaiting his signature. “Pretty,” you called in greeting as you reached Stewart and he wrapped you in a hug, lifting you off your feet. You shoved at his shoulder. “Put me down, you brute.”

Stewart laughed and set you on your feet before handing you the backpack. The conversation continued for another moment, too low for Robby to hear. He forced his attention back to the chart, signing off with more force than necessary. It wasn’t his business who you spent your time with outside of the hospital. Your bond didn’t immediately grant him access to the rest of your life.

He couldn’t help glancing up again as Stewart prepared to leave. He glanced at his watch, nodded at whatever you were saying then backed away with a casual wave. Robby watched him go, then deliberately put his attention back on the tablet in his hands.

“Busy?” you asked sliding up beside him.

“Never not busy,” he replied and glanced up with what he hoped was a neutral expression. “What’s that?” he asked gesturing to the bag.

“I asked Rick to bring me some clothes so I could change at your place,” you said with a shrug.

Robby’s brow furrowed as he processed that information. “Did you leave a bag in the rig or something?”

“Nah. He’s my roommate.”

And oh, Robby didn’t like that at all.

Chapter Text

The two of you didn’t talk much on the walk home. Robby’s brain was too busy contemplating everything that had happened that day from you showing up unexpectedly to you having a pretty boy roommate. If he’d thought working with you would answer any of his multitude of questions about you, he was sorely mistaken. He decided to hold off questioning you until he had Jack for backup. Though Jack was just as likely to tell him to let it go.

You turned onto a quieter street lined with mature trees. The buildings here were older, closer together. “It’s just up ahead,” Robby said, pulse getting faster the closer you got. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been nervous to bring someone home. He stopped in front of one of the few brownstones left in the city. It sat a floor higher than the buildings around it.

“This is it,” he said and led you up the walkway to the three-story structure. Three stone steps led up to the heavy wooden door, wrought iron railings on each side.

“How long have you lived here?” you asked as you followed him up the steps.

“Ten years, give or take. Jack’s been here longer. He bought the place when he moved to Pittsburgh.” The keys jingled as he pulled them from his pocket.

The door swung open to reveal a foyer with a soaring ceiling and a staircase that curved gracefully up to the second floor. Warm light spilled from deeper inside, a welcome contrast to the harsh lighting they had to work under all day. The scent of garlic and tomatoes filled the air.

“We’re home!” And god, how he loved the sound of that we.

“In the kitchen,” Jack’s voice called back.

Robby helped you take off your cardigan and hung it on one of the hooks just inside the door. He kicked off his shoes and pushed them under the bench with his foot. You followed suit. Then he led you down the hall to the kitchen.

You paused in the hallway to take in the photos lining the wall. He stopped and watched you, just happy to have you in their space. “Who’s this?” you asked.

He looked and saw you pointing to one of the many pictures of Jake. This one showed him standing between Robby and Jack at a festival they’d taken him to a couple of years ago. Robby rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. “That’s Jake. I was dating his mom when Jack and I met. His dad was never really in the picture. Janey was kind enough to let us maintain a relationship after the split.” He shrugged. “He’s my kid. I love him.”

When you just ran your gaze over the pictures again instead of saying anything, his gut tightened with anxiety. “I hope that won’t be a problem.” He really fucking hoped it wouldn’t be because as much as they’d longed to find you, have you a part of their lives, Jake was nonnegotiable.

You glanced over your shoulder, eyes wide with surprise. “Of course not. I think it’s sweet. It’s great that he was you.”

Relief flowed through him as Jack stepped into the hall. “Here you are. Thought you weren’t going to say hello.” He leaned up to give Robby a kiss. “Hey, baby. How was shift?”

Robby shot a glance in your direction. “It was interesting.”

Jack looked between the two of you, brows lifting and hummed. Finally, he settled on you. “You want to get cleaned up, Angel?”

“That would be great.”

“Give her the nickel tour, Mikey. Have her use our shower. The guest bath is on the fritz again.” Jack stepped back into the kitchen before Robby could ask him ‘what the fuck?’ because they literally have never had a problem with the guest bath.

He shook his head. “Well, come on then, I guess I’m your tour guide.”

You grinned and looped your arm around his. “Lead the way.”

He showed you the powder room and main floor laundry but bypassed the kitchen as you’d end up there in the end anyway. The living room was basic and they’d turned the other room on the level into a library with floor to ceiling shelves and comfortable furniture for reading. He could tell you wanted to explore every nook and cranny. “You can look to your heart’s content later. If I know Jack we’ve only got about half an hour until dinner’s ready.”

You nodded but he didn’t miss the longing look on your face as you turned toward the stairs. The second level had four rooms and another staircase going up. He showed you the room they’d converted to an office where they stashed all their medical journals and the like.

“I feel like this room doesn’t get used much,” you observed as you looked around.

“Not really. If we need something from in here, we’ll grab it and take somewhere else to read. It’s really just to keep the work clutter away from our daily lives.”

“Makes sense.”

He stopped at the next room, the only one with a closed door. “Jake’s room. We don’t go in there without his permission.”

Next was a simple guest bath in shades of gray and pale blue. And last the guest bedroom with soft gray walls and a queen bed with a dresser. He headed up the stairs. “The best part is up here.” When he reached the top, he stepped to the side so he could watch your reaction.

Your eyes widened as you took everything in. The entire third floor had been transformed into one expansive room. Floor-to-ceiling windows lined one wall, offering a stunning view of the city lights spread out below them. At the far end sat their king-sized bed flanked by nightstands, the bedding a mix of dark blues and grays. The doors to the closet and bathroom were on the wall opposite the windows. At the other end of the room, closest to the stairs, sat a comfortable sofa and chairs facing a large television mounted to the wall. Underneath sat a wet bar complete with minifridge and microwave.

“We spend most of our time up here,” Robby explained. “We added the wet bar after too many days off when we didn’t feel like going all the way to the kitchen to get a drink or popcorn for a movie.”

You moved into the room, taking everything in, pausing as you caught sight of something in the corner.

“Elevator,” Robby said. “Runs from here, through the office on the second floor and into the living room. Jack put it in for when his leg is bothering him, or if he’s got it off and doesn’t want to deal with the stairs on his crutches. I’ll admit to using it more than once myself when I’m just too tired to be bothered with the stairs.”

“This is incredible. You guys really thought of everything. And you kept so much of the original features and wood,” you said, turning back to him.

“Jack had some of it done before I moved in, but he waited for a lot of it. He said he wanted to wait for his soulmates, to make it a home for all of us.” Robby swallowed and looked away. “We waited another five years or so to go ahead with the work. We, uh, we weren’t sure we’d ever find you.”

Instead of responding to his confession, you walked over to the windows and looked out at the view. “The view alone is amazing.”

Robby came to stand behind you and hummed in agreement. “The bathroom might be more impressive than the view. It’s ridiculous really.”

You stopped in the doorway as you took in the insane bathroom. Robby knew it was over the top, but when you spent your days wearing other people’s body fluids sometimes it was tempting to just live in the shower. Jack made sure they could if they wanted. What they called the bathroom was more a luxury spa. The vanity held three sinks in the hope that one day Angel would be here with them. A linen closet and the toilet all sat at this side of the room. Two thirds of the room was a wet room with an enormous free-standing jetted tub as its centerpiece. It was large enough for two. The shower boasted multiple heads of different heights including a large rain head on the ceiling and several on adjustable arms. Slip resistant tiles lined the floor. Recessed lighting glowed softly from the ceiling.

“Holy shit, this is huge.”

Robby resisted a ‘that’s what she said’ comment. Barely.

He leaned against the doorframe, watching your reaction with undisguised amusement. “Jack said if we were going to remodel, we might as well do it right.”

“This isn’t right. This is obscene,” you said, but your voice held no judgement, only appreciation as you ran your hand along the edge of the tub.

“There’s a sound system.” Robby gestured toward the nearly invisible speakers on the ceiling. “And you can change the lighting.”

He watched you trace your fingers over the grab bars scattered around the space for Jack as well as the three fold-down seats placed along the walls. “Jack’s prosthetic isn’t water proof. We designed it so he could move around in here without his crutches.”

You turned back to him. “I’d never leave if this was my bathroom.”

He smiled. “It can be a problem.” He gestured to the door on the wall to his right. “That goes into the walk-in closet. Stacking laundry machines in there as well. No point in hauling it from floor to floor if we don’t need to.”

“Here let me show you how this works.” He ran you through the basics of the shower, promising to show you every setting another time. He placed a towel on the counter for you from the linen cabinet. “Feel free to use any products or whatever.”

With a wave, he left you behind and quickly changed into a pair of sweats and a t-shirt before heading back down to Jack. He found his mate peering into the oven checking the garlic bread.

“Since when are we having trouble with the guest bath?” he asked.

Jack left the oven to return to the cutting board on the counter where he was making a salad. The corner of his mouth twitched. “Since now.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He paused his chopping to meet Robby’s gaze. “It means I want her comfortable using our space.”

Understanding dawned on Robby’s face. “You’re making room for her.”

“We’re making room for her. If she even wants that.” Jack resumed slicing the cucumber. “This is our space, Mike. We designed it for us. We can change things for her sure, but I want her to be comfortable here.”

***

After the most incredible shower of your life, you dried off and wrapped yourself in the oversized towel. You unzipped your backpack and reached in to get the clothes Rick had packed. You frowned at finding less fabric than you were expecting. Much less.

“Goddamn it, Rick,” you muttered as you stared at what he considered appropriate dinner attire. Shorts that would barely cover your underwear and a tank top with a plunging neckline that was at least one size too small for you. Where the hell had he even found these clothes? They weren’t in your regular wardrobe that was for sure.

A piece of paper floated out from the folds of the tank top and you snatched it up. Have Fun Bestie. You were going to kill him. Maybe someone somewhere would miss him but they’d understand if you just explained your reasoning. You shoved the ‘clothes’ back in the bag along with your scrubs. You’d be damned if you wear that to dinner with two men you were still getting to know.

You padded into the closet, eyes widening at the array of clothing. There were a lot of options for men that wore scrubs most of the time. It didn’t escape your notice that the third of the closet sitting along the back wall was empty. It felt intrusive to go through their clothes but the alternatives were unacceptable.

Once you were dressed in a pair of Jack’s sweats and Robby’s t-shirt, you padded back down the stairs. You left your bag on the bench at the front door and headed into the kitchen. Jack stood at the stove, stirring the sauce. Robby leaned against the counter beside him, beer in hand, saying something that had Jack smiling. They looked so natural together, so comfortable, that you hesitated at the threshold, suddenly uncertain of how you would fit into their narrative.

Then Robby glanced over and saw you. His sentence died mid-word, beer bottle frozen halfway to his lips. Jack turned to see what had interrupted him and his spoon stilled in the pot. For a moment, no one moved. Heat crawled up your neck as both men stared, their expressions a mix of surprise and something you couldn’t identify.

You cleared your throat. “I hope you don’t mind if I borrow some clothes. My roommate thinks he’s funny.”

Jack recovered first, setting the spoon aside and running his eyes over you from head to toe. “I don’t mind,” he assured, voice sounding lower than usual. “Robby?”

Robby shook his head still staring. “Not at all. Looks better on you anyway.”

You stepped into the kitchen and Jack turned to dish up the food. “What was that about your roommate?” he asked.

“He packed me the skimpiest clothes he could find, I swear.” Irritation flared through you again.

“He?” Jack asked again, looking over his shoulder with a raised brow.

“She calls him Pretty,” Robby grumbled before taking a sip of his beer. There was something in his tone that had you biting back a smile.

You leaned forward, lowering your voice as if sharing a secret. “So does his boyfriend.”

Both of their expressions shifted from confusion to understanding followed with something like relief.

“Boyfriend, not soulmate?” Robby asked.

You pursed your lips and shook your head with a shrug. “They’ve been together three years. They’re happy. I guess technically they’re both my roommates but Rick and I have known each other for ages. When I joined EMS, he offered me their extra room.”

Jack grinned and handed you your plate. “So what exactly did he pack for you?”

You rolled your eyes and took a seat at the table. “A tiny pair of shorts that wouldn’t even cover my underwear and a tank top that was basically just straps.”

Robby huffed a laugh. “I’d have paid to see Jack’s face if you’d come down in that.”

“Shut up,” Jack muttered but there was no heat in it.

***

Once everyone had their food and drinks, the three of you settled at the table. You were two bites in before Robby’s first question. “So, you going to tell us what you were up to today?”

Jack looked between the two of you in surprise. “What did I miss?”

Robby pointed at you with his fork. “Little miss soulmate here spent half the day running around the hospital taking notes. It was unnerving. I’d see her and look away for half a second and she’d be gone.”

“Oh, don’t exaggerate.” You waved a hand through the air in dismissal.

His deadpan stare was his only response. You just stared back until he said, “I’m not.”

Jack’s lips twitched in amusement as he watched the dynamic between the two of you. Robby took another bite of his food, eyes never leaving you. “She has a list.”

Jack blinked once. Twice. “What?”

“She has a list of things that she thinks need to change in the hospital,” Robby said, voice a mix between amused and annoyed. “Ask her what she said when I told her that Gloria wouldn’t listen to her even if she did hire her.”

Jack looked at you expectantly and you just kept eating as you looked back. He gave up on fighting the smile and let it curl his lips. “Angel, what did you say to our soulmate that has Michael acting like he wants to strangle you and kiss you at the same time?”

“Gloria didn’t hire me. I’ve never met her.” You continued to eat.

Jack’s smile fell as he glanced to Robby with wide eyes. Robby met his gaze and nodded his head before gesturing to you to indicate there was more.

A glance in your direction found you wearing a smirk, eyes shining with mirth. Jack cleared his throat. “If Gloria didn’t hire you, who did?”

“The board.” You said it casual as could be like you hadn’t just said the most ridiculous thing Jack had ever heard.  He put down his fork and leaned back in his chair.

His mouth opened and closed a couple of times as he processed. “I…I mean…Michael?”

Robby huffed. “This was my whole day.”

Finally, Jack leaned forward and put a hand on top of yours where it wrapped around your glass. “Sweetheart, the board doesn’t hire people. It’s just not done.”

You blinked at him with a small frown. “They do though.”

It took Jack approximately five seconds to decide you were giving them shit.  He rubbed his forehead. “Anything else I should know?”

“I mean, I’d tell you but I’m just as confused as you are,” Robby said.

Jack just stared at you while he ate. You glanced at him twice before just staring back. Finally, you laughed. “I promise I’ll fill you both in on all my secrets soon.”

Jack didn’t believe you for a moment.

Chapter Text

Dinner had gone well, better than Robby had expected really, even if he hadn’t gotten any answers out of you. You had fit into their space so naturally, as if you’d been there all along. He let himself imagine what it might be like if this became routine. Three plates at the table, three voices filling the rooms, three lives intertwined.

The three of you migrated into the living room. You were curled in the corner of the leather sofa, a glass of wine balanced on your knee. Jack sat at the opposite end of the sofa, his prothesis removed for the night and his crutches leaning against the side table within easy reach.

“Sit, baby,” Jack said, patting the middle cushion when Robby hovered uncertain. “I was about to suggest we take turns asking questions. You can pass if you don’t want to answer.”

Robby settled between the two of you. “I’m in.”

You took a sip of wine and nodded. “Sounds fair. Who starts?”

“I will.” Jack turned to face you more fully, his expression gentle but serious. “How long did you know you were our soulmate? And why didn’t you tell us?”

Your lips twitched as your eyes flickered down to your wine glass then back up to meet Jack’s steady gaze. You looked between the two of them. “I don’t know when I first really started to suspect. A month after I met you maybe? I knew your names matched my mark but there was something else. A pull, I guess.”

You sighed and bit your lip. “I didn’t know for sure until girls’ night with Dana. She saw my license with my first name.”

“That was what, Friday?” Robby asked.

“Yeah. I was going to tell you, but I needed time to figure out how.”

“You could have just introduced yourself as Angel,” Jack said. “I would think that would be the default anyway. Didn’t you want to meet your soulmates?”

Something shuttered in your expression. You sat your wine glass on the coffee table with deliberate care, but Robby noticed the slight tremor in your fingers. “I’m going to need something stronger than wine for this conversation.”

Robby leaned forward, concern overtaking curiosity. “You don’t have to answer. That’s the rule, right? Pass if it’s too much.”

You looked at him. “No. I think it’s important you understand. Both of you.” You took a deep breath. “It’s just not a story I tell often. Or ever really.”

Jack reached across Robby to touch your knee, the gesture so unexpected that both Robby and you stilled. “Take your time. We’ve got all night.”

You nodded, drawing your legs up closer to your chest. Making yourself smaller on the sofa. Robby wanted to wrap his arms around you, shield you from whatever memories were bringing that look to your eyes.

Instead, he stood. “Bourbon?”

The corner of your lips curled up in a half smile. “Yeah. That would be great.”

He nodded and crossed the room to pour you a glass. He hesitated before deciding to pour himself one as well. From the look on your face, he was going to need it. “Jack?” he asked without looking at the man in question.

“Why not?”

Robby returned to the couch, all three glasses in hand. He passed over yours and Jack’s before sitting back down. You sipped at your drink and closed your eyes with a sigh. When they opened you looked more determined than you had been.

“My mother is the reason I go by Katrina and why I didn’t tell you right away.” You looked between them. “It’s not a nice story.”

“We’re doctors, sweetheart,” Jack reminded gently. “We’ve heard plenty of not nice stories.”

You hummed in agreement. “But it wasn’t my story.”

Robby watched you gather yourself, shoulders straightening. The protectiveness he’d felt since seeing your bloodied face in the ED surged again, stronger now, mixed with dread at whatever you were about to share.

You sat your glass on the side table and wrapped your arms around your legs. “I was raised by a woman that was obsessed by soulmates. Completely, pathologically fixated on the idea.”

Robby reached for the hand closest to him and pulled it into his lap, lacing his fingers with yours.

***

Jack watched your fingers curl tightly around Robby’s. Your eyes were fixed on some distant point as if you couldn’t bear to watch their faces as you spoke. He recognized the technique. The deliberate disconnection patients used when recounting trauma. It made his chest tighten in a cold anger. He kept his face neutral, a skill honed through years of delivering bad news to families.

“Her soulmate name wrapped around her calf in a faded gray that meant he was dead. She would sit for hours with a drink in her hand tracing the letters over and over again until her skin was raw while I was forced to sit in the corner and watch.”

You took a deep breath. “Shiela named me Angel specifically to make it easier for my soulmates to find me.” Your voice was flat, emotionless. “A unique name would stand out, make me more…findable.” Your laugh was brittle and without humor. “She used to tell me that it was my destiny to be found, that I was born to serve my soulmates.”

Jack’s jaw tightened but he kept his expression neutral. He knew interrupting now would only make it harder for you to get the story out. His left hand curled into a fist against his thigh, out of sight.

“She was absolutely giddy on my twelfth birthday. She made me stand in front of her in nothing but my underwear for hours, waiting for the mark to appear. I was so cold.” Your voice trailed off as you got lost in the memory.

Robby shifted, leaning closer to you, thumb tracing small circles on the back of your hand to ground you.

“I watched them form on my arm and I was so excited. Two names. I knew that was rare. Thought it made me special.” A single tear ran down your cheek. “But when my mother saw ‘Michael’ and ‘Jack’ on my forearm, she slapped me so hard I fell against the kitchen table.”

Jack heard Robby’s sharp intake of breath, felt his own pulse quicken with anger.

“She was furious. Said I had the most common names in America. That I’d never find my soulmates with names like that. She said the universe was punishing her through me for never finding her soulmate and letting him die.”

You took another sip of your drink, keeping it wrapped in your hand this time. “Until she said that, I had no idea her soulmate wasn’t my father. She’d told me repeatedly how he’d died when she was pregnant. I would come to discover that she blamed me for his death. She thought he died because she got pregnant with someone else’s child.”

“Jesus,” Robby muttered.

“She only got worse after that. She asked people their names constantly. Any Michael or Jack we came across, she’d force me to touch their hand or arm to check. These men were my teachers, elderly men at her church, strangers. She’d invent reasons to talk to them, to get me close enough to touch them. It wasn’t enough to give them my name, to hope they’d recognize it. ‘What if they lied?’ she’d say.” Your voice broke. “I was so embarrassed, so humiliated. And when nothing happened, she’d be angry for days. Tell me I wasn’t trying hard enough.”

Jack’s stomach turned. He’d seen soulmate obsession before, people who spent their lives chasing that connection, building their entire identity around the name on their skin. But this was different. This was abuse plain and simple.

“You were a child. She was supposed to protect you.” The words came out harsher than he’d intended but he wouldn’t take them back.

Your eyes met his, surprise flickering across your face at his tone. “I know that now. Of course, I do. But all I knew then was that I was a failure. That my only value in life was finding and serving my soulmates and I couldn’t even do that right.”

Jack watched you take another swallow of your drink, using the moment to compose yourself. Your hand trembled slightly as you set the glass down on the table again. He fought the urge to reach for you. To offer comfort beyond Robby’s grip on your hand.

“As I got older, she got more desperate. Started drinking more. The touching strangers thing got worse. She’d drag me into bars with her, announce my soulmates’ names and offer to let them touch me. Some took advantage of that.” A muscle ticked in your jaw. “By the time I was fifteen I hated my name. Hated the marks on my arm. Hated the whole concept of soulmates.”

Robby leaned forward, his posture protective as if shielding you from an invisible threat. Jack had seen it before when Robby positioned himself between patients and potential danger. The realization that he felt the same instinct toward you settled something in Jack’s chest. It was a confirmation of what he already knew, that the three of you were already a unit, whether you’d planned it or not.

“Shiela died when I was fifteen. Car accident. She was drunk, hit a tree. I was in the backseat.” You looked at them then, eyes haunted. “When they told me they hadn’t been able to save her, the first thing I felt was relief. That’s a horrible thing to admit, isn’t it? That I felt relieved when my mother died?”

“No,” Jack said firmly. “It’s not terrible. It’s honest. And given what you’ve told us, it’s understandable.”

You gave him a small, grateful nod before continuing. “They contacted my aunt as next of kin—my mother’s sister. I didn’t even know she existed. When she showed up, she was shocked to see me. Said she’d tried to find Shiela for years but she kept moving, changing numbers. She apologized for not finding me sooner, said the family always knew my mother wasn’t quite right.”

Jack’s jaw clenched tighter. Not quite right. The euphemism felt inadequate for the harm that had been done. “Your aunt took you in?”

You nodded and smiled at the memory. “For a little while. Maggie was the one who found my birth certificate at the house. She hired someone to find the man listed as my dad. He didn’t know I existed. My mother just disappeared one day.”

Your face softened slightly at the mention of your father. The first positive note he’d seen. Watching you now, in their living room, wrapped in their clothes and sharing the darkest parts of yourself, Jack felt something shift inside him, a certainty he would do whatever it took to ensure you never looked that lost again.

“One paternity test later and I had the best dad I could have ever asked for. He was furious with Shiela. Still is. Says if he’d known about me, he would have moved heaven and hell to be in my life.” You smiled, small but real. “He’s the complete opposite of her. Patient, kind. I just wish he’d gotten to me sooner.”

***

The simple statement hung in the air, heavy with all it implied. Robby swallowed against the tightness in his throat. Resisted the urge to pull you into his arms and promise nothing would hurt you again. He knew better than to make promises he couldn’t keep. The world was too unpredictable and brutal for such certainties. Instead, he gave your hand a gentle squeeze, offering the only thing he could—his presence and understanding.

You straightened, adjusting yourself on the couch. “Okay, that’s enough of my bullshit for one conversation,” you declared. “How did you two meet?”

The abrupt change of subject might have felt jarring if Robby hadn’t recognized your need to retreat from vulnerability, to regain solid ground after exposing so much of yourself. He exchanged a glace with Jack and saw the same understanding, the silent agreement to follow your lead.

Robby huffed a breath. “It’s been more than ten years now.”

Jack nodded, his mouth quirking in that half smile that still made Robby’s chest tighten after all these years. “Yep. I’d recovered from losing my leg and was ready to get back to work. Got hired at PTMC as an attending.”

“Gloria introduced us in her office. We shook hands and that was it,” Robby finished.

Jack laughed. “Gloria was not pleased. We had to spend another hour in her office going over protocol.”

You hummed, something about the tone catching Robby’s attention. “Is that so?” you asked with a raised brow.

Jack glanced at Robby who just shrugged. He had no idea what you were thinking. The conversation shifted to lighter topics, as if by unspoken agreement. Funny stories from residency were shared by all three of you. You all laughed more freely as the night progressed.

Eventually Jack glanced at his watch and frowned. “It’s late,” he said sounding surprised. “After midnight.”

“Shit, really?” You straightened and reached for your phone. “I didn’t realize.”

Robby felt a pang of disappointment at the thought of you leaving. “You could stay,” he offered. “The guest room is made up.”

“We’d like you to,” Jack added. “If you’re comfortable with that.”

You smiled but shook your head. “I appreciate the offer, but I need to go home. I’ve got a meeting tomorrow and nothing appropriate to wear.” You typed out a quick text. “Rick says he can be here in fifteen minutes. Him and Marcus were out anyway.”

“Will you come back tomorrow after your meeting?” Robby asked. “We’re both off.”

“I’ll let you know. Depends how my meeting goes.” Your expression was softer than it had been all evening, the sharp edge worn down by hours of conversation. It wasn’t a commitment to return, but it was enough for now.

***

You stepped into the elegant beauty of Grand Concourse just before noon the next day. Immediately, you felt the weight of curious gazes ogling on your bruised face. The host’s gaze lingered a beat too long before his professional mask slipped back into place. You gave your name and he led you through the tables to one in the back.

Richard Montgomery stood as you approached, his frame impeccably clad in a charcoal suit that probably cost more than most people’s monthly salary. His silvering hair was freshly cut and his features were still sharp despite his advancing years. When he smiled the resemblance between you was unmistakable.

“Katrina,” he greeted, leaning down to kiss your cheek. He froze mid-motion as he took in your injuries up close. The warm welcome in his eyes changed to shock, then something darker. A simmering anger at whoever had harmed his girl.

“You didn’t tell me it was that bad,” he said quietly as he pulled out your chair.

You settled in your seat. “It looks worse than it is. Hairline fracture. No concussion. Could have been much worse all things considered.”

Your father studied your face with focused intensity and his fingers twitched on the table as if he was suppressing the urge to reach out and examine the bruising himself. Knowing him, he probably was.

“Still,” he said, a world of concern in the word.

The waiter appeared and poured water into their glasses before disappearing again.

“I’m fine, Dad. Really.”

He pursed his lips and nodded once. “Very well. So, tell me more about the soulmates,” he said to change the topic.

“They’re good men. Dedicated doctors. The junior staff respect them. Jack was in the military, honorably discharged after he was injured. He’s more regimented, controlled. Robby is the emotional one. Cares with his whole heart. They balance each other out.”

“And where do you fit?” your father asked, watching your face carefully.

You considered the question before answering. “I’m not sure yet. It’s early. But they made space for me last night. Made dinner. Listened while I trauma dumped.” Your voice softened as you recalled the night before. “They didn’t push.”

“Where do they live?”

“In an old brownstone. They’ve fully redone it. It’s awesome.” You paused and bit your lip. “Robby has a kid, kind of. Ex-girlfriend’s son that he’s kept up a relationship with.”

He tilted his head, eyes running over your face. “How do you feel about that?”

You shrugged. “It doesn’t bother me if that’s what you’re asking. I just hope he likes me when we finally meet.”

He made a sound of agreement. “Well, at the least they’ll understand the hours.”

The waiter returned to take your orders. You’d been coming here for years and your father ordered for you as he always did. Once you were alone again, your father leaned forward, his expression softening. “I’m glad you found them. And I’m glad you’re giving them a chance. Your mother—”

You cut him off. “Let’s not talk about Shiela today. I did enough of that last night.”

His eyebrows rose. “You told them?”

“Most of it.” Your fingers traced the rim of your water glass. “About the obsession and everything that entailed. About her dying and Aunt Maggie taking me in.”

“And me?”

“They know you exist. That’s all so far,” you said.

He nodded, his expression neutral but eyes calculating. “I don’t want to cause any problems between you. You tell them whatever you want. Just make sure they understand the importance of discretion for the time being.”

You narrowed your gaze, gaging his sincerity. “Are you sure? Because I actually think they could be a big help.”

“Then by all means tell them. I don’t want our secrets to cause any problems between you.”

The waiter arrived with your food. You ate over quiet conversation about your days since you’d seen each other last. Once the meal was consumed, your father wiped his mouth with his napkin. When he set it down, his expression changed. The warmth remained in his eyes, but his posture straightened, his jaw set with the focus of the business man he was. “So, what do you have for me?”

You reached into your bag and pulled out the legal pad you’d been scribbling all your notes in. You’d taken time when you got home last night to organize the chaos with colored ink and sticky note flags. It was still kind of mess but your father had learned to follow your trains of thought ages ago.

“It’s not great. But it’s fixable,” you said simply.

He pulled a pair of reading glasses from his inner pocket and scanned through your notes a page at a time, paying special attention to your colored scribbles in the margins. Everything you had observed at PTMC from both yesterday and when you were working with EMS. Staffing problems, patient flow issues, security deficiencies. But you hadn’t stopped at cataloging problems.

The second half of the notebook outlined how to implement the solutions you and your father had discussed over many late night sessions. What would work, what needed to be looked at further. There were no numbers. The money was his end of things.

He glanced up from the pages, his gaze sharp with pride and appreciation. “You have a complete restructuring plan here.”

You shrugged. “We talked about most of this already. This is just how I think it will work best. I think we can easily have two of the best hospitals in the state.”

Your father tapped a finger on the table. “Are the wait times in the ED really over six hours?”

“Sometimes eight. They can’t clear the beds because they can’t move them upstairs because there’s no help. They’ve got behavioral health patients spending their full 48 in the ED.” You sighed in annoyance thinking of all the issues that needed to be addressed again.

“And your solution?” he asked though you knew he’d just read it.

“They have one attending per shift. Rarely two. That’s a priority. Then we need to get those floors opened up. Open the clinic to take the non-emergent cases. Administrative consequences for the departments that delay accepting transfers.”

He nodded and jotted a note under one of yours. “You have security underlined three times.”

You pursed your lips in thought. “Yeah. You’re better at that part than me, but they’re stretched thin. Staff is breaking up fights and getting assaulted in the process. It’s not great. Alert buttons attached to badges maybe?”

He leaned back in his chair and put away his glasses. “It’s a start. When’s your first shift?”

“Technically yesterday but I was in admin and running around taking notes,” you said. “Tomorrow night is my first real shift.”

Your father frowned. “I don’t like you working nights.”

You huffed a laugh. “Better than me running a rig at whatever hour.”

“Well, I didn’t know you were doing that or I would have put a stop to it.” He sounded exhausted by your antics and it only served to make you grin.

“I feel like that’s the story of your life.”

He rolled his eyes. “It certainly is.” He ran his gaze over you again. “Are you sure PTMC is where you want to put the time and money?”

You met your father’s gaze without hesitation. “Yes. Their admin is questionable but their people are good. I watched them when I worked the rig, now I’m working with them. Just start working on it. I’ll let you know if I change my mind.”

“And you’re sure this isn’t about your soulmates? That you’re thinking clearly?”

The question would have grated coming from anyone else but you understood the concern behind it. You’d made your career working alongside your father, proving yourself based on merit not nepotism. Your judgment was your most valuable professional asset.

“I’m sure,” you said firmly. “They deserve better than what they’re getting. Give them the tools and they’ll prove themselves. Jack and Robby being there is a bonus, not a reason.”

He studied you a moment longer then nodded once. “Okay. We’ll get started. Keep me updated on anything else you find.”

You nodded, relief washing through you. The Pitt had a chance now and your soulmates didn’t even know it yet. Well, there was no time like the present to tell them. They did invite you over after all.

Chapter Text

You clutched your overnight bag as you stood on the stoop of your soulmates’ home. You could have texted before you came over. Should have probably. Yeah. You pulled out your phone and texted Robby. So is that invitation still open?

His response was immediate. Absolutely.

You put your phone away and rang the bell as you shifted your weight. You’d swung by your place to change into more comfortable clothing and grab a bag in case you decided to spend the night this time. You even packed it yourself so you could actually wear the clothes.

The door swung open and Robby’s surprised expression melted into a smile that crinkled the corner of his eyes. His hair was damp and he wore a soft gray t-shirt with navy sweatpants riding low on his hips.

He leaned against the doorframe. “This is a surprise.”

You shrugged. “Yeah, I probably should have given you more than a ten second warning but I kind of forgot, so…”

His smile widened. “You’d be fine even with no warning. Come on in.” He stepped back, gesturing you inside with a sweep of his arm. “Jack’s still in bed.”

“I would hope so.” You stepped past him into the foyer.

Robby closed the door, his eyes tracking you as you sat your bag out of the way against the wall. “Shouldn’t you be trying to flip your schedule? You’re on nights tomorrow, right?”

“Had that meeting at noon. Slept until eleven. I’ll stay up as late as I can tonight, then crash. Caffeine and company will help.”

“Say no more.” Robby motioned you to follow him to the kitchen. He was barefoot and relaxed in a way you’d seldom seen him. “Jack buys the good stuff. The swill at work about kills him.”

“Yeah. Your coffee sucks,” you agreed as you entered the kitchen.

Robby paused in the act of reaching for the coffee canister, turning to face you with an arched brow. “It’s your coffee now, too.”

A look of horror crossed your face as the implication sunk in. “Yeah, that won’t do at all.”

You pulled out your phone, fingers flying across the screen as you sent a message to your father’s assistant. Need a high-end coffee maker and decent coffee delivered to the breakroom at PTMC ED please and thank you.

The reply came quickly. On it. Anything else?

Make sure it’s easy to use and make sure it’s there before 7 pm tomorrow.

Got it.

Thank you.

Robby watched with amusement as he leaned against the counter waiting for the coffee to brew. “Secret texts about the horrible coffee at the Pitt?”

“Exactly,” you said with a smirk and tucked your phone away.

He just nodded, lips twitching. “Make yourself comfortable.” He gestured toward the barstools at the island.

You settled onto one, watching him move around the kitchen. “Milk? Sugar?” he asked.

“Sweetener?”

Robby grimaced. “No. Sorry.”

You shrugged and told him sugar was fine. It wasn’t like you used much anyway. He put both on the counter before turning to pour you a mug of coffee. He slid it in front of you and watched carefully as you made it up the way you liked.

He leaned on the counter across from you, waiting for you to taste your coffee. Once you had and seemed satisfied, he put the milk away then jotted ‘sweetener’ on the grocery list on the fridge. He leaned against the counter again, mouth working as he tried to decide what to say. Finally, he settled on, “Thank you for trusting us last night. For telling us your story.”

The sincerity in his voice made your throat tighten. You weren’t used to someone just acknowledging the vulnerability without judgment or pity. Most people you told about the darker parts of your past didn’t know how to respond. But Robby and Jack had listened without flinching. Honored your pain without trying to minimalize it or fix it.

“Thanks for listening,” you said finally, voice soft.

He nodded once then poured his own mug of coffee and slid onto the stool beside you. The two of you settled into easy conversation. Mostly about the work they’d done on the house with you asking questions about the areas that caught your attention the most.

You were only interrupted when Robby’s phone buzzed on the counter beside him. He glanced at the screen, brow furrowing in confusion as he read the message. He looked at you then back to his phone as if trying to make sense of what he was seeing.

“Everything okay?”

Wordlessly, he slid his phone to you. On the screen was a text from Dana along with a picture.

Did you know about this? Brand new coffee maker just delivered along with what looks like half a coffee shop’s inventory. Fancy shit. Note just said for the ED staff. No signature.

The corner of your lips kicked up. “Well, that was fast.”

Robby’s eyes widened. “That was you?”

“I told you I was sending secret texts about the horrible coffee at the Pitt.”

“That was a joke.” He laughed but it sounded more exasperated than anything.

You shrugged trying to come off as nonchalant when really your stomach was twisting up in knots. You were used to just being yourself, to doing things the way you always had. But now you kept wondering what the thing would be that pushed them too far. “The coffee situation needed addressing.”

“And you just what? Called in a favor on a Tuesday afternoon?”

You sighed and bit your lip. You placed a hand on his arm, the gesture surprising him. “I promise that I will tell you both everything as soon as Jack wakes up.”

His brows went up. “Everything? Like coffee, Gloria, you running around like a madwoman yesterday, everything?”

“Yep.”

Robby glanced at the clock on the microwave. “It’s four. He’s not working tonight. He’s had enough sleep.”

You laughed. “You can’t just wake him up because you want answers.”

“I absolutely the fuck can,” he countered, his voice firm but his eyes dancing with mischief.

You shook your head. “Then let me wake him up at least. You’re likely to push him out of the bed to make sure he gets up.”

Robby tilted his head, studying you. Something warm and considering passed over his features. “I have a better idea.”

He stood and refilled your mug before preparing a fresh cup, black with a half teaspoon of sugar. “He’s in a better mood if I have coffee ready when I wake him.”

“Let’s both go,” Robby said picking up his mug along with Jack’s. “Bring yours.”

“Lead the way.”

You climbed the stairs in silence. As you reached the second floor landing, he paused and turned to you with a serious expression. “Before we go up, I should tell you why I didn’t want you waking Jack on your own. Jack has PTSD from his time in the service,” he explained carefully. “Usually it’s not an issue, but if he’s had a bad night I don’t wake him. I let him come out of it on his own.”

“What do I need to know?”

“Look for tension in his jaw, him white-knuckling the sheets, making himself as small as possible. Those are all signs he’s in a bad place.” He adjusted his hold on the mugs.

“And if I don’t see any of that?”

“Then gentle touch is best. Nothing sudden.” His mouth quirked in a half-smile. “You’ll learn what to look for.”

The casual certainty that you would learn sent a wave of warmth through you. Here was another small assumption about your future, offered without hesitation or doubt. Robby spoke as if your place in their lives was already settled, a question of when rather than if.

“Let’s go,” he said and continued up to the third floor.

The loft was bathed in afternoon light at one end. Blackout curtains had been pulled across the windows near the bed. Jack laid sprawled in the center, one arm flung above his head, the sheet twisted around his hips. His prothesis rested beside the nightstand within easy reach.

Robby set the coffee mugs down on a bedside table then studied his sleeping partner with practiced eyes. After a moment he nodded slightly. “He’s good.” He moved to the far side of the bed and climbed in. Jack turned to face him but didn’t wake.

You hovered hesitantly. “Can I sit?” you asked, gesturing to the edge of the mattress closest to you.

Robby looked up from where he’d settled on one elbow, an amused expression crossing his features. “Angel, you can do anything you want.”

Well, that opened up a lot of possibilities, didn’t it? Instead of commenting, you gave a little shake of your head and sat carefully. The mattress dipped slightly beneath your weight but Jack didn’t stir.

Robby laid his free hand against Jack’s face, his thumb moving back and forth across the cheekbone in a tender caress. “Jack, time to wake up, baby.”

You found yourself holding your breath, mesmerized by the intimacy of the gesture. This wasn’t just about waking someone, this was a private ritual you were being allowed to witness.

Jack’s eyelashes fluttered, then opened. He blinked slowly, focusing on Robby with a sleepy smile. “Hey,” he muttered, voice rough with sleep.

“Hey yourself,” Robby replied, thumb still tracing Jack’s cheek.

Jack squinted toward the light at the other end of the room. “What time is it?”

“Four-ish.”

Jack’s brow furrowed. “What are you waking me up for?”

“Because he’s an impatient bastard,” you answered before Robby could.

Jack flipped around in surprise, nearly dislodging Robby’s hand as he twisted to face you. For a moment, he simply stared at you then his face broke into a wide, warm smile. “Hi.”

You were unable to stop your answering smile. “Hi.”

“Angel promised answers once you were awake,” Robby said.

Jack’s attention sharpened, sleep falling away completely. “Well, fuck. Let me get up then.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you. “You two are ridiculous.”

“Pretty sure that’s you, sweetheart,” Robby countered, passing Jack his coffee as he sat up.

Jack took a grateful sip, then glanced at Robby with a raised brow. “What did I miss this time?”

“I reminded her that she would have to drink the shit coffee at work,” Robby explained. “She sent a text. Less than two hours later, Dana let me know we had a new coffee maker and fancy coffee in the break room.”

Jack crossed his arms over his chest, coffee mug balanced carefully in one hand as he studied you. His gaze was penetrating, focused as if he was trying to figure you out. “I may just love you for that, but explain.”

You rolled your eyes and patted his leg through the sheet. “Get up and going and we’ll talk.”

You stood, retrieving your own mug, and retreated to the other end of the room. They joined you several minutes later, Jack in lounge pants pinned up on one leg and a tight t-shirt. Robby started a pot of coffee at the minibar and Jack tilted his head in question.

Robby gestured to you with his chin. “She’s trying to stay awake to flip her schedule for tomorrow night.”

You turned one of the chairs to face the couch so you could look at both of them while you talked. “Alright,” Jack said taking a sip from his coffee. “Let’s hear it.”

You inhaled deeply and ran your palms over your thighs. The words you’d been rehearsing in your head seemed suddenly inadequate. Maybe you should have brought your dad with you, made him explain it. That would go over well.

“Before I begin, everything I tell you right now cannot be repeated to anyone,” you said.

Jack nodded, expression serious. “Okay.”

“Including Dana,” you added, pointing at Robby.

“Why…why would you think we’d tell Dana?” he asked.

He may be confused now but you knew he would absolutely want to tell her once he knew everything. “Just promise.”

“Okay, sweetheart,” Jack said. “We won’t tell anyone.”

“And no mentioning it to Gloria.”

Robby snorted. “You don’t have to tell us that.”

You shook your head leaning forward. “No, you’ll be so tempted, but you can’t. Not yet.”

The intensity in your voice seemed to register with both men and they exchanged a glance. Jack straightened slightly, his full attention focused on you.

“Honey, what—”

You held up a hand, cutting him off. “This is really important.”

Jack’s expression softened. “We won’t tell anyone unless you give us permission.”

“Promise,” Robby added.

You took another deep breath and wrapped both hands tightly around your coffee cup as if it might anchor you. “My father is Richard Montgomery.”

Your soulmates blinked at you for a moment, expressions frozen in identical masks of confusion tinged with astonishment.

“Montgomery Medical, Richard Montgomery?” Jack finally asked, voice neutral.

“Yes.” You studied their faces, watching for any signs of what they were thinking.

Robby’s expression shifted first, confusion giving way to comprehension. “But what does that…” he trailed off, eyes widening as understanding hit. “Montgomery Medical bought PTMC?”

“They have,” you confirmed. “It hasn’t been announced yet, though I would assume that is coming soon.”

You stayed quiet, giving them time to process. The silence stretched and you fought the urge to fill the void with explanations and justifications. You’d dropped enough on them for now, they deserved time to absorb it.

Jack was the first to speak, that same neutral tone that told you nothing still present. “So, when you said the board hired you?”

“Technically they did. Dad’s the board at the moment.”

The trepidation that had been building in your stomach all day intensified. You’d lied, by omission perhaps, but it was still a lie. What if this was too much, the thing they couldn’t forgive?”

Jack broke the tension, laughing as he ran a hand down his face. “Holy shit.”

The sound caught her off guard, not tinged with anger or disappointment but something that almost sounded like relief.

“So, it’s actually your hospital,” Robby said, referencing your conversation from the day before.

Your lips twitched. “Again, technically, it’s my dad’s.”

“Holy shit,” Jack said again, shaking his head.

Robby leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Why were you running EMS?”

You sat your mug down and scrubbed your hands over your face as you gathered your thoughts. “The very simple version of my background is that once I completed my degree, I started working for my father. Except for my brief stint at Presby, all of my assignments have been because he put me there to research, to help him fix things.”

You paused to make sure they were following. Both men watched you with intense focus.

“I only worked at Presby because I felt the need to do more during the pandemic. But I had the benefit of being able to tell them to fuck off when they pissed me off.”

Jack’s expression was difficult to read.

“You okay, Jack?” you asked.

He licked his lips, his gaze sharpening. “What is the plan for PTMC? Should we be worried about our jobs?”

The question was exactly what you’d expected from him, focused on concrete realities instead of feelings.

They wouldn’t like your answer, but you weren’t going to hide the truth anymore. “First of all, you never need to be worried about your jobs. Dad would hire you if it came down to it.”

“Because you’d ask him to,” Robby interjected, bitterness in his tone.

You met his gaze steadily. “And because you’re competent doctors.”

A flicker of pride crossed his face quickly masked by skepticism.

“But the Pitt’s not going anywhere.”

Robby’s expression soured, his lips pressing into a thin line. “This could be very bad,” he said clearly thinking of all the things you’d overheard and picked up while you were running EMS as well as whatever you’d discovered running around the day before.

You recognized the signs of his building anger and rushed to say, “Before you get upset, let me explain the plan. Please.”

Jack reached out and grabbed Robby’s hand, using his calming influence to steady Robby’s quicker temper. “We’re listening,” Jack said, his voice level, but not cold.

You took a steadying breath and shifted to the clinical efficiency you depended on when discussing plans with your father and his team. Your fingers itched for your notebook, but you’d already handed it over so you’d just have to rely on your memory instead.

“Montgomery Medical has purchased three other hospitals besides PTMC. All of them struggling, all of them underperforming. Four hospitals bleeding money, none operating at full capacity.”

You had your soulmates’ undivided attention, their expression a blend of wariness and curiosity.

“Riverside will be transitioned into a behavioral health facility. That department at PTMC will become almost nonexistent,” you explained.

Robby’s brows shot up. “You’re getting rid of psych?”

“Not entirely no, but boarding and holds will be sent to Riverside from the Pitt.”

“And the other two hospitals?” Robby asked.

This was the part they weren’t going to like. “They will be closing.” You held up your hands to stave off any arguments. “Let me finish, then you can scream at me if you like. We’ll be reopening PTMC in its entirety. Staff will be reassigned from the other two hospitals depending on need and specialty.”

“You mean they’ll be forced to transfer?” Jack asked, voice sharp with concern.

You shook your head firmly. “No one will be forced to finish out their contract. There will be incentives to move to Riverside and PTMC but they’re free to leave if they choose.”

After pausing a beat to make sure they were still with you, you continued. “We are adding a clinic adjacent to the ED, staffed by emergency nurse practitioners and PAs. Non-emergent cases that currently clog your department will be redirected there.”

“Like an urgent care?” Robby said, leaning forward with growing interest.

“Similar, but integrated with the ED itself. The triage rooms will be expanded from two to four. Patients who don’t need emergency services won’t be taking up beds needed for traumas and critical cases.”

They exchanged glances, the skepticism in their expressions gradually giving way to cautious interest. These were solutions to problems they’d complained about for years, issues that had been dismissed by Gloria and the previous administration as unfixable due to budget constraints.

“There will be improved pay, benefits and working conditions across the board,” you added hoping they didn’t ask about specifics. You left that up to your father.

“Security?” Robby pressed, clearly thinking of his most pressing daily concerns.

“Increased security at the doors and in the ED is a priority. Dad’s better with that part than me, but I believe he’s looking at integrating personal alert buttons for all staff. And from previous experience, more guards and better training.”

You paused, watching their reactions. The tension in the room had shifted, morphing from suspicion to something closer to stunned disbelief. Neither man spoke, both seemingly processing the cascade of information you’d just delivered.

“More attendings,” you added, voice soft. “More nurses. Better equipment.”

“This is mind blowing.” Jack’s voice cracked slightly on the last word. “Why us? Why PTMC? Why focus the resources there and Riverside?”

“Because two profitable, fully functioning hospitals are better for the bottom line and the city than four bleeding ones,” you explained. “None are running at full capacity. All are understaffed and underpaid. Montgomery Medical will fix it. It’s what we do. Dad hates inefficiency in the medical field.”

You hesitated, then decided to offer the full truth. “He asked me which hospital to save and I said PTMC.”

Robby’s gaze sharpened. “Because of us?”

Jack ran a hand down his face again. “Who gives a shit if it was?”

That got him a small smile, but you kept your gaze locked on Robby. “Yes, because of you. And Dana. And Perlah. And Princess. And everyone else that works there. As I told my dad, you’ll prove yourselves if you have the tools. You already have the MCI training and procedures in place. It makes sense.”

Jack and Robby looked at each other again, some silent communication passing between them.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Robby finally exhaled, the words full of wonder.

Jack shook his head slowly. “I knew you were keeping secrets, honey, but holy shit.”

You watched them, uncertainty still roiling in your belly. You’d laid it all out but you couldn’t read whether they felt betrayed by your secrecy or just relieved at the changes coming to the hospital.

“Are you angry?” you asked, voice smaller than you’d meant for it to be.

Robby laughed, the sound startled and genuine. “Angry? Angel, you just told us that everything we’ve been fighting for, everything we’d though was impossible, is actually happening. How could we be angry?”

“Because I didn’t tell you sooner. Because I let you think I was just another new hire.”

“Honey, you could never be just anything,” Jack said. “And I’m not sure we would have believed you if you’d told us sooner.”

“Definitely not,” Robby added. “We needed to see you in all your odd behavior to believe it.”

“Gee, thanks.” The tension in your shoulders began to ease, relief washing through you. “So you’re not mad?” you asked needing the reassurance.

Robby’s expression softened. “Sweetheart, you just handed us everything we’ve been fighting for on a silver platter. Mad is the last thing we are.”

“Shocked, yes,” Jack added. “Trying to wrap our heads around the fact that our soulmate is apparently hospital royalty, also yes.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress the smile that tugged at your lips. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

“Your father owns half the medical facilities in Pennsylvania,” Jack pointed out dryly. “If that’s not royalty in our world, I don’t know what is.”

You shrugged, uncomfortable with the characterization. “It’s just work. Important work, but still just work.”

Robby studied your face, expression thoughtful. “You really believe in this, don’t you? It’s not just about helping your dad or us. You actually care about fixing the system.”

“Of course I do.”

Jack nodded slowly, as if seeing you in an entirely new light. “Well, I think I speak for both of us when I say we’re in.”

“In?”

“Whatever you need, whatever your father needs to make this work. We’re in,” he clarified.

Robby nodded. “Just tell us what to do, sweetheart.”

You smiled. “For now, just keep doing what you’re doing. The rest will come together in time.”

Jack laughed shaking his head in wonder then repeated what was apparently his favorite phrase. “Holy shit. Our soulmate is going to fix the Pitt.”

“Our soulmate is going to fix PTMC,” Robby said, reaching out to pull you from the chair to the couch, settling you between them as if you’d always belonged there.

Chapter Text

The smell of dinner filled the kitchen, making your mouth water as you finished up the dish. You stood at the stove cooking while Jack cut up tomatoes for a salad at the counter beside you, your shoulders occasionally brushing. Robby moved around you, grabbing plates from the cabinet and setting them on the island. The rhythm between you felt increasingly natural as if you’d been doing this for years.

“Almost done,” you announced.

“Smells good, sweetheart,” Jack said and Robby hummed in agreement.

You smiled in thanks. “I’m a decent cook when I have the time.”

“A woman of many talents.” Jack’s voice was warm with appreciation. “Doctor, hospital fixer, EMT, chef…”

“Don’t forget coffee savior,” Robby added. “Dana sent me a raving text after she tried the coffee this afternoon.”

You laughed as you dished up the food and passed their plates over. “The bar was criminally low there.”

The three of you settled into your meal, conversation flowing easily between bites. Jack swallowed and turned to you. “So, are you planning on staying over this time?”

You nodded. “That was the plan, if the invitation’s still open.”

“Always,” Robby replied immediately, mouth half-full.

“Jesus, chew your food,” Jack muttered and nudged him with his elbow. “The guest room is yours whenever you want it. Or—”

Your phone buzzing interrupted whatever he’d been about to say. You glanced at the display, expression tightening at the name displayed. “Fucking hell. What does she want?”

Both men straightened in their seats looking at you in concern. “Who is it?” Robby asked.

“Gloria.” The name came out like a curse. You tapped the screen to read the message, getting more irritated with every word.

“Well?” Jack asked.

Your eyes narrowed as you read the text aloud. “We need to have a discussion before your shift tomorrow. Be in my office at four.” You shook your head. “I’m not spending fifteen hours at the hospital because she wants to get off at five.”

You typed back a response and glanced up at your soulmates. “Sorry. I know this is rude. I just want this taken care of.”

They both shook their heads. “Don’t worry about it,” Robby assured. “What are you going to tell her?”

“That there is no way in hell I’m coming in three hours before my shift.”

The response came back almost immediately. I get off at 5 so it has to be 4.

I can meet at 6 or this can wait until I’m on days. You hit send with more force than necessary then slammed the phone on the table and took a bite of your food.

Jack glanced at the screen after looking at you for permission then turned it for Robby to see as well. “Good for you, Angel,” Jack said.

“She can’t be dictating what I do in my off hours because it’s convenient for her. And I guarantee you she’s going to try to get out of paying me for it as well.” Your voice was tight with irritation. “That’s the shit that needs to stop.”

“And it will,” Robby reminded you.

The phone buzzed again and you read the message. “Six it is, but she’s disappointed in my lack of flexibility. Also asked if this was really how I wanted to start my career at PTMC.”

Jack and Robby exchanged glances of shared exasperation and understanding. Obviously, they were used to this.

“Her entire management style is making others bend to her convenience and blaming anyone but herself when it goes bad,” Jack said.

“And taking all the credit when it doesn’t. She once scheduled a mandatory staff meeting at noon then wrote up the night shift staff that didn’t show up,” Robby said. “I’m the one that told them to stay home and sleep. Said I’d back them with the board if it came to it.”

You shook your head. “God, she’s a piece of work.”

You finished your meal, Jack and Robby sharing Gloria stories, each more ridiculous than the last, laughter replacing the temporary tension. By the time you migrated to the living room and took up residence on the sectional, the annoyance was all but forgotten.

Jack found a baseball game on the TV for background noise as you continued talking, meandering from hospital politics to favorite movies to childhood pets. You tucked your legs underneath you, feeling the day’s tension gradually unwind. Occasionally one of your soulmates would watch you with expressions that made your heart beat a little faster.

Around ten, Robby stretched and yawned, his t-shirt riding up to reveal a sliver of stomach you found yourself unable to look away from.

“I’m done,” he announced, running a hand through his hair. “Some of us have to be at work at seven.”

Jack tilted his head back to look up at him. “Get some sleep, baby.”

Robby leaned down and kissed Jack’s lips. He paused before squeezing your shoulder gently, fingers lingering. “Night, Angel.”

“Night, Robby,” you said, resisting the sudden, inexplicable urge to turn your head and press your lips to his hand.

The baseball game gave way to the evening news then Jack flipped through the channels and found a movie that had already started. Something filled with car chases and explosions. You settled more into the sofa, leaning slightly in Jack’s direction. He draped his arm across the back of the couch, his fingers just inches from your shoulder.

“You sure this is okay?” he asked, nodding toward the screen. “We can find something else.”

“No. This is perfect. I’m too tired for anything that requires actual thought.”

He chuckled. “I know that feeling. You mind if I put my leg up on the couch?”

You glanced to him in surprise. “Of course not. Do you want me to move?”

He gave you a shrug and a crooked smile. “You don’t have to. Just lean forward for a minute.”

You did as instructed, and he shifted so his back leaned against the arm of the couch and his leg rested along the back behind you.

“Now,” he started with a grin. “You can lean back, move to the other end of the couch or…” He trailed off but opened his arms in invitation.

You glanced between him and the opposite end of the sofa and back before shrugging. You shifted and curled up against him so your head landed mid-chest.

He hesitated before wrapping his arms around you as his body relaxed beneath you. “Didn’t think you’d take me up on it if I’m honest,” he said and squeezed gently.

“Never offer me cuddles unless you mean it,” you said.

He chuckled, chest moving beneath your cheek. “Noted.”

You laid there for awhile, just enjoying the moment. Your eyes found your forearm where his name peeked out from under your pushed up sleeve, the golden sheen catching the light.

“I remember the first time your name turned red when I was college,” you said, voice quiet. Soulmate names didn’t change color often. Gold with the first touch. Gray with death. Green for serious illness. Blue for severe emotional distress. Purple for serious injury. Red for mortal danger. All extreme situations. Some people never saw the color change from the initial black. The lucky ones saw it go gold and never saw it shift again.

Jack’s breath hitched and his hand rubbed your arm but he didn’t say anything.

“It never stayed that way for long. A few hours at most. It wasn’t hard to figure out you were in the military or something.” Your fingers traced random shapes on his chest. “Then it went red and stayed that way for more than a day before shifting to purple. I thought I was going to lose you before I ever met you. I kept waiting for it to go back to black, terrified it was going to go gray.”

He cleared his throat and covered your hand with his. “It was an IED. Lost my leg and three men from my unit.”

“I was happy when it finally went black and stayed that way, but I’m sorry that was why.”

His fingers tightened around yours and he lifted your hand to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss to your knuckles. The touch was brief but electric.

“Hey, I get it,” he said, breath warm against your skin. “Michael said pretty much the same thing. I didn’t think about how my serving would affect my soulmates, if I’m honest.”

You tilted your head back to look up at him. “I’m really glad I got the chance to meet you, Jack.”

He smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Same here, sweetheart.”

You fell into comfortable silence, attention drifting back to the movie you weren’t really watching. Jack’s thumb traced small circles on the back of the hand he was still holding. You found yourself relaxing more against him, fatigue swamping you.

Jack kept nudging you anytime you dozed off. It would be easier to stay awake if you sat up, moved away from him, but you didn’t want to leave the warmth of his arms.

***

Hours later, you woke slowly, still laying on Jack’s chest, the murmur of the TV still in the background. You were momentarily disoriented until the sounds of movement drifted in from the kitchen. Robby must be getting ready to leave for work.

You glanced up at Jack to find him watching you with amused eyes. “Welcome back.”

“What time is it?”

“Quarter after six. You’ve only been asleep about half an hour. Figured you’d stayed awake long enough.”

Robby walked into the room in his scrubs, travel coffee mug in hand. His eyes ran over the two of you and he smiled. “Good morning. Looks like someone had a slumber party without me.”

Jack shrugged. “We lucked out. She’s a cuddler.”

“Well, she looks exhausted. You should go up to bed, Angel,” Robby said. “You’ll get a sore neck sleeping like that. Trust me.”

He leaned down and kissed Jack goodbye, a quick but tender press of the lips. Then, in a moment that seemed more instinct than deliberation, he placed a soft kiss to your forehead.

The second the contact registered, he froze, color flooding his face as he straightened abruptly. “Sorry,” he stammered, eyes wide. “I shouldn’t have done that. I just—”

“It’s fine,” you said cutting him off with a smile. “Promise.”

Jack watched you both, his expression caught between amusement and something softer. Robby’s shoulders relaxed at your words, the panic in his eyes subsiding.

“Okay, good.” He hesitated, then leaned down and pressed another kiss to your forehead, your face heating at the action. “See you tonight.”

He grabbed a hoodie from the hook by the door and slipped it on. With a last goodbye he ducked out the door.

The house felt different almost immediately, quieter. Maybe a little colder. You sat up and stretched. “I should probably try to get some real sleep if I want to function tonight.”

Jack nodded and got up as you stood, taking a minute to balance on his crutched. “I’ll go up with you. Guest room’s ready for you.”

You grabbed your bag on the way by and the two of you climbed the stairs in companionable silence. When you reached the second floor, Jack stopped outside of the guestroom door. “Let me know if you need anything.”

You nodded, suddenly feeling awkward in the formal guest space. It was so different from the casual comfort you’d shared on the couch. Jack hesitated, weight shifting.

Finally he said, “You know, not for nothin’ but Robby and I have a very comfortable king size bed upstairs.”

You blinked, surprise momentarily cutting through your exhaustion. Cuddles on the sofa was one thing, sharing a bed was quite another.

You weren’t certain what expression he saw on your face but Jack shook his head. “Just to sleep, I swear.” He waited a beat then added, “And maybe cuddle a little if you want.”

“I appreciate the offer, but I think I’m good here.” You softened the words with a sincere smile.

Jack’s expression didn’t change, no disappointment visible in his features. “Of course. Invitation’s open, Angel. Sleep well.”

“You too, Jack.”

He turned and headed up the stairs. You watched until he disappeared from view then closed the door to the guest room with a quiet click.

Despite your exhaustion, sleep eluded you. The bed was comfortable. The temperature in the room was perfect. There were even black out curtains to keep out the light. Yet, you found yourself staring at the ceiling, listening to the sounds of the house. An hour passed before you admitted defeat.

With a sigh, you pushed back the covers and grabbed your bag. The house was quiet as you climbed the stairs to the third floor. The loft was lit by the soft glow of the television. Jack was stretched out on the sofa and he looked up when you reached the top of the stairs, surprise and happiness washing over his features.

“Change your mind?”

You nodded, heading to the closet and putting your bag on an empty shelf before returning to your soulmate. He lifted the blanket he was covered with in invitation.

You settled beside him on the couch, tension melting away as he wrapped his arm around you. You curled into the warmth of him, head finding the same spot where you’d laid it earlier.

“This okay?” he asked.

“More than.” Sleep was already tugging at the edge of your brain.

You stayed that way for a while, drifting in and out of consciousness. Finally, Jack nudged you awake. “Come on. Bed’s more comfortable.”

Half-asleep, you let him guide you to the bed. You crawled under the covers vaguely aware of Jack settling beside you. When he didn’t immediately close the distance between you, you frowned.

You turned your head and looked at him over your shoulder. “Jack?”

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

“You’re too far away.”

His smile was the last thing you registered before you snuggled into Robby’s pillow to drift asleep. That and the gentle weight of his arm sliding around your waist as he drew you against him, your back to his front, bodies fitting together as if designed for exactly this moment.

Chapter Text

Your alarm pulled you from the depths of slumber and you fumbled for your phone on the nightstand to shut it off. You slumped back against the pillow with a sigh and wiped the sleep from your eyes. Jack closed the distance between you and placed his arm back over your waist like it had been until the rude awakening.

“Morning, evening, whatever,” he grumbled.

You huffed a laugh. “Go back to sleep. You’ve got another hour before you have to get up.”

His arm tightened around your waist. “Nope. I’m going in with you.”

You turned to him in surprise. “You don’t need to do that.”

“I know,” he agreed, propping himself on one elbow. “I’m doing it anyway.”

You ran your gaze over him, knowing him well enough by this point to know there was no use in arguing. “Alright then. I need a shower before I have to deal with the harridan.”

That got a genuine laugh out of him. “You go first. I’ll start the coffee.”

As much as you wanted to, you didn’t linger in the shower, aware that Jack probably wanted one as well. When you emerged dressed in your scrubs with a long sleeved shirt underneath, you found Jack standing at the counter across the room drinking from a travel mug.

He gestured at another beside the coffee pot. “You can use that one. I’ll be out in a jiffy.”

Thirty minutes later, both of you were dressed and heading down the stairs, travel mugs in hand. The drive to the hospital passed in silence broken only by the occasional comment until he pulled into the parking lot.

“You good?” Jack asked as he turned the truck off.

You hummed in agreement. “She can’t do anything to me except annoy me. She can try but if she pisses me off too much, dad’ll just fire her sooner rather than later.”

He leaned back against the door and tapped his thumb on the steering wheel. “She’s under contract.”

“Of course she is. She’s also opened up the hospital to several lawsuits that negate that contract.”

He blinked at you several times. “You might have left that out of our conversation, Angel.”

You grinned, showing all your teeth. “Did I?”

He shook his head with a half-smile. “We better get you inside.”

The doors parted with a soft hiss as you entered and the hum of activity washed over you. Robby stood at the hub reviewing a chart with Dana. He glanced up as you approached, exhaustion evident in his eyes but a smile broke across his face nonetheless.

“Fancy meeting you here,” he said, gaze moving between the two of you.

“How was your day?” you asked, stepping closer as you pushed up the sleeves of your top. You intended to have their names on full display during your meeting with the CMO.

Robby’s eyes flicked to your arm and his smile widened. “Busy. Three MVAs and a construction accident with three victims. But we got through it, like always.”

“You ready for this?” he asked after a glance at the time.

“More than she is,” you said with a snort.

Your soulmates grinned and Jack took your bag from you. “We’ll be here when you’re done.”

You gave them a wave before you stepped inside the elevator and pushed the button for the correct floor. The admin floor was naturally quieter than the constant buzz of the ED. You approached Gloria’s office, knocking against the open door.

She glanced up, her mouth pinching when she saw it was you. “Come in. Shut the door behind you and have a seat.”

Her eyes found your soulmate marks glimmering on your skin and her expression grew even more displeased. You still weren’t certain if her attitude was because of Robby and Jack in particular or if there was another reason for it.

You settled into one of the chairs in front of her desk, still not saying a word, careful to maintain eye contact, refusing to appear the least bit intimidated by the woman in front of you.

“I believe some things need to be made clear to you.” Gloria folded her hands on the desk in front of her. “I do not appreciate the board taking it upon themselves to hire you without my approval. I’m not sure who you know or what wiles you used to get the position but you need to be aware that I am still your boss.”

The words hung in the air between you as she stared expectantly at you. You tilted your head slightly allowing the silence to stretch until it bordered on uncomfortable. “I’m sorry, you seem to be waiting for something. Was there a question in there?”

A muscle twitched in her jaw. “An acknowledgment would be appreciated.”

You nodded once. “I acknowledge you disapprove of how I was hired and you are the CMO. Understood.”

Her fingers tapped on her desk as she leaned back in her chair. “Now to talk about where you will be working.”

Your brow lifted. “Excuse me?”

Satisfaction glinted in her eyes as the corner of her mouth lifted in a smirk. “You cannot honestly expect to remain in the ED with your soulmates as your supervisors.”

God this woman. You kept your expression neutral despite your raising anger. You wouldn’t give her the satisfaction. “I was hired as a rotating attending for your woefully understaffed emergency department. You can’t move me to a different department for the hell of it.”

She gave you a wide smile of smug satisfaction. “I think you will find I can do a great many things, Dr. Sparks. The board may have hired you and forbidden me from letting you go without due cause, but as CMO I have final say over department assignments and scheduling.” She tapped those fingers again obviously enjoying her perceived superiority over you. “At the very least, I can make sure you work opposite shifts so you never work with them.”

You took a slow measured breath to keep from blowing up and firing the bitch yourself. Using her authority in such a way was petty and vindictive and you wondered what had made her so determined to interfere with soulmate bonds.

“Or perhaps you need to rotate through the other departments to get more experience,” she suggested.

You said nothing for another beat, taking in the tension in her form. There was something personal in her hostility that went beyond being bypassed in your hiring process. Something that had everything to do with your soulmates.

“The ED needs consistent staffing. I would think patient care would be at the forefront of your concerns,” you said.

She waved a dismissive hand. “Patient care is precisely my concern. Soulmates working together introduces complications. Emotional entanglements can cloud judgement.”

“And you have evidence of that occurring with Doctors Robinavitch and Abbot?” you asked, already knowing the answer. Jack and Robby were professionals, the personal relationship only enhancing their ability to work together in crisis situations.

“Not yet,” she stated. “But adding another soulmate will change the dynamics considerably. As CMO I have to prioritize what is best for this hospital and its patients and having all three of you in the same department is not optimal.”

The message was clear. She intended to use her position to separate the three of you whether it made sense for the hospital or not. It was a calculated power play, designed to assert dominance and remind you of who held the authority.

Unfortunately for her, she had badly miscalculated her opponent.

You finally allowed yourself a cold smile as you leaned back in your seat. “So, is it that they’re soulmates or that they aren’t straight that is the problem here? It has to be one or the other.”

Gloria’s spine straightened to the point it looked painful. “Excuse me?”

“No, I don’t think I will.” You tilted your head. “You are aware that separating soulmates in the workplace is a direct violation of the Soulmate Protection Act of 1973? That it is in fact proven to benefit both soulmates and their employers if they work together? Especially in high stress professions?” Your hands gripped the arms of your chair as you fought to keep your tone even. “That it in fact helps their health and longevity? So why are you so goddamned determined to make this worse for everyone involved including yourself?”

Gloria blinked, clearly thrown by your shift to direct confrontation. She recovered quickly, her expression hardening. “I am not.”

“You are,” you countered, not letting her finish whatever justification she’d been about to offer. “For years, you’ve kept Jack and Robby on opposite shifts despite research showing that soulmates who work in healthcare have lower rates of burnout and better patient outcomes when their schedules align. They should be on the same shift and you know it. The only way you can justify it is that you don’t have the coverage for that.”

You didn’t give her time to respond, not needing to hear anymore of her bullshit. This was a conversation you’d been wanting to have with her for months. A desire which only grew when you had access to hospital records and started digging. “Fair enough, I suppose. But then you tried to keep them from aligning their days off or taking vacation at the same time. That’s not staffing. That’s spite.”

She shifted in her seat. “They shouldn’t get special consideration just because they’re soulmates.”

“Yes, they should,” you retorted immediately. “The act says every consideration should be given to soulmates working at the same facility to allow schedules to match up as much as possible. It’s not a suggestion, Dr. Underwood. It’s federal law.”

You watched her expression shift from confident superiority to something more calculated. “The act allows for soulmates to be separated at the supervisor’s discretion.” A hint of triumph entered her tone as she played what she clearly thought was her trump card.

“Absolutely. If it can be proven that their working together is detrimental to the performance of their job.” You held her gaze without blinking. “Which hardly ever happens as the benefits far outweigh any negatives. Those provisions exist for genuinely problematic situations, not for you to wield as a weapon against bonds you personally disapprove of.”

Her posture stiffened. “I assure you, my concerns are purely professional—”

“Then produce the evidence,” you cut her off. “Show me the incident reports where their status compromised patient care. Show me the statistics that indicate worse outcomes when their shifts overlap. Show me anything beyond your personal discomfort with their bond.”

“You aren’t authorized to see those files,” she retorted.

“You can’t show me because they don’t exist. I checked.”

The silence that followed was deafening as she tried to parse out how much you actually knew and how much you were guessing at.

“You are fortunate that Jack and Robby have been agreeable thus far. They could have taken you to court ages ago for your systemic attempts to undermine legally protected accommodations for soulmates. I, however, am not as even tempered as my soulmates and I have better attorneys. Don’t try me, Gloria, or I will take you to court.”

You let that sink in. Let Gloria adjust to her new reality. Well, part of it anyway. “My working here and rotating between their shifts will only help all three of us and by extension the hospital. Bonded soulmates who have regular contact show lower stress hormones, better immune function, and enhanced cognitive performance under pressure.” You leaned forward, voice dropping. “Exactly what you want in your emergency department physicians I would think.”

“You’re making a mistake,” Gloria said, voice cool. “Starting your time here by making enemies in administration will not serve you well.”

“I’m sorry that’s what you think I’m doing here,” you replied. “Though it is odd that you find me reminding you of federal law an act of aggression.” You stood and brushed your hands down your thighs. “I have already filed the necessary paperwork with HR for full soulmate recognition and accommodation benefits for the three of us. Oddly, Jack and Robby were under the impression you’d filed that for them. Weird, right?”

Gloria said nothing and you hoped she was reevaluating her life choices.

You glanced at your watch. “I need to go to my shift. I’m glad I finally got the chance to meet you, Dr. Underwood. I’d been looking forward to it for some time.”

“You’re dismissed,” she said when you were already halfway to the door.

You opened the door and looked back to her. “I didn’t ask.”

You left the door open and strode down the hall toward the elevators, your smile slipping from your face. Anger burned through you. That woman was impossible. Even if her refusal to acknowledge soulmate bonds was her only issue, it would be enough to fire her. You desperately wanted to know where it came from.

Once inside the elevator you jabbed the button several times as if you could will it to go faster. It wasn’t her attitude that made you angry. God no. You’d dealt with petty hospital administrators your entire career. You were furious because Jack and Robby had been enduring her petty tyranny for years, navigating her deliberate attempts to keep them separated, to make their bond as difficult to maintain as possible.

You could handle whatever shit Gloria threw at you, but you couldn’t stomach the thought of your soulmates suffering simply because an administrator took issue with their connection.

By the time the elevator reached the ground floor, you’d steadied your breathing somewhat, though the anger still simmered beneath the surface. You rolled your shoulders back, lifted your chin and arranged your features into what you hoped was a neutral expression as the doors slid open.

***

You were less than minutes into your meeting when Jack rubbed absently at his sternum, frown creasing his forehead as an unexpected wave of anger washed through him. The sensation was tinged with a righteous indignation he recognized immediately as not belonging to him or Robby. Across the hub, Robby shifted uncomfortably, his hand rising to mirror Jack’s gesture before their eyes met in silent understanding. Gloria had already pissed you off apparently.

Jack hovered around Robby, the two of them talking in low tones wondering what had happened. Their bonds with you were still new. You had to be furious for them to be feeling anything.

The elevator doors slid open and both men looked up immediately. You emerged, not acknowledging anyone as you moved through the department to the bay doors.

“You ever seen her like this?” Robby asked. The fury radiating through the bond was so potent it almost had a taste, metallic and sharp.

Jack watched you disappear through the automatic doors, his own jaw clenching in response to your distress. “Not even when that asshole kicked her.”

Dana appeared beside them, gaze trailing you as well. “What happened?”

“Don’t know yet,” Robby answered, his weight shifting from foot to foot, clearly torn between following you and staying on the floor.

Dana rolled her eyes. “I don’t know why either of you is still standing here. Go. We’ll call if we need you. You still have a half hour until sift change.”

Jack didn’t need to be told twice. He nodded to Dana then headed toward the doors with Robby close behind. You paced the length of concrete outside the hospital, hands shoved in your pockets, head down.

You glanced up as they approached and gave them a crooked smile. “Sorry. I’m sure I’m broadcasting. Give me a minute and I’ll calm down.”

“What the hell happened?” Robby asked.

Your jaw tightened. “She tried to reassign me or at least make sure we never worked together. Anything to keep us separated.”

“Jesus,” Jack said with a groan. “She never stops.”

You faced them and crossed your arms over your chest. “You do realize that she violated federal law by deliberating keeping you on opposite shifts and denying coordinated time off?”

“Wait seriously?” Robby said. “I mean, I knew it was shitty but illegal? She always argued it was at supervisory discretion.”

“She was depending on you not knowing the full language of the law. Most people don’t but most employers don’t violate it.” You waved a hand through the air in emphasis. “What’s the point when it benefits them as well? She’s only allowed to separate you if she has formally documented issues with your performance when you’re on the same shift.”

“That never happened,” Jack said. “We work better together, if anything.”

“Oh, I know,” you assured with a grin. “I read your files.”

They both blinked at you and you laughed. Jack felt like he should be offended on principle but he really didn’t care, especially as the simmering fury they’d been picking up from you had faded significantly.  

“I only looked at this specific issue,” you assured. “I wanted to be well informed before our meeting. I had my suspicions and just needed to confirm them.”

“So, what happens now?” Robby asked.

“Now, Gloria gets fired sooner than dad was intending.”

“Just because she pissed you off?” he asked, a hint of amusement in his tone.

“Well, yes. But she’s a liability. The hospital is fortunate that she hasn’t cost them a lawsuit already. She needs to go.” You took a deep breath. “We’re also officially documented as soulmates with HR. She never bothered to do that either. Likely so she could claim she didn’t know if it came up.”

“Alright,” Jack said, clapping his hands together. “We’ve got a shift change to do.” He let the two of you walk into the building first, staying a step behind so he could watch you together. You’d come into their lives like a whirlwind, kicking up everything that he’d thought long settled and he found he didn’t mind in the least.