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Robby knew instantly that something was wrong.
Upon arriving at work, there was an unsettling feeling in the air that he noticed immediately. It came from years of experience in the ED, having to assess what was happening around him and understand what to do next, it was like a sixth sense.
Walking into the Pitt that morning, he noticed an abnormal amount of staff filling the room. There was a large amount of night shift staff still lingering about, and rather than treating patients the staff, both night and day, were congregating in small groups dispersed around the room, speaking in hushed tones. The normally busy ED, full of movement and noise, was eerily quiet and almost frozen. Anyone Robby made eye contact with looked away quickly but Robby caught the wet sheen of their eyes and the downturn of their mouths.
Robby spotted Mel and Langdon speaking with a night shift nurse across the room, Mel was wiping tears from her cheeks and Langdon, with a comforting hand on Mel's shoulder, was nodding along with what the nurse was telling them. While he wasn't crying, the look of devastation on Langdons face was just as concerning.
Robby passed by Ellis, Mohan, and Santos on his way around the corner to the Hub. Santos looked stricken, her arms wrapped around herself in an attempt to feel some comfort, and Mohan was covering her mouth with her hand in a look of shock, her eyes also wet with tears.
Panic started to curl in Robby's chest and he quickened his strides towards the Hub. Dana caught his eye the moment he turned the corner and the look on her face worsened Robby's panic, his heart beating furiously in his chest. His normally unshakeable and pragmatic charge nurse was as pale as a ghost, and her eyes were glassy and horrified. With a few words to the night shift charge nurse, Dana left the Hub and intercepted Robby as he got closer.
"What the fuck is going on?" Robby asked as Dana took him by the elbow and turned him around to steer him towards the elevator.
"One of ours was brought in last night." Dana said, her voice thick with sorrow. Robby's blood ran cold as the pair reached the elevator.
"Who?"
Ignoring hospital rules and regulations, Dana and Robby ran the distance from the elevator to your room in the ICU. They stopped in the doorway, side by side, and took in the reality in front of them.
You were unconscious in the bed, your face bruised black and blue and swollen. There was a white bandage wrapped around your head and a ventilator tube down your throat, kept in place by tape over your mouth. The room, like you, was hauntingly quiet and still, except for the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor and pump of the ventilator.
You weren't alone in the room however, Jack Abbot was sitting vigilantly at your bedside, his chair pulled right up next to the bed. He was leaning forward, his elbows perched on the bed and one hand covering his other one which was pressed against his mouth in a fist. His eyes were locked on your face and unconscious form and when he spoke, he didn't look away.
"I can't come in for my shift tonight." Jack's voice was low and thick, like something was caught in his throat.
"Jack…" Robby said, his voice heavy with sympathy.
"She was just trying to help someone." Jack's voice held an edge now, anger prickling under his skin. "She was being a good person and this was the thanks she got."
It had been a complete shock to the night shift crew when the paramedics had announced that the assault victim they had brought in through the ambulance bay was you. It seemed like the whole department rushed forward to help get you into Trauma 1 and start assessing you. Jack's body had moved on autopilot, pulling the gurney into Trauma 1 and transferring your unconscious body to the hospital gurney with the help of the other night shift staff, while his heart and mind reeled at the sight of your bruised and bloodied face.
You were in a c-collar to keep your head and neck stable, and Jack noted that your forearms and hands were bruised and scratched. Jack had enough lived experience to recognize that kind of wound pattern. Those were defensive wounds. Jack bit back unexpected bile that rose up his throat as one of the nurses cut away your clothing. Jack noticed the imprint of a boot on your shirt and he had to clench his teeth hard to keep his emotions in check.
Another staff stepped forward to suction blood from your mouth and throat, the paramedic who was bagging your oxygen stepping back to give room, while another resident prepped the equipment to intubate you and provide an airway. Jack barely heard the paramedics as they listed off the injuries - facial trauma, cracked ribs, blunt force trauma to your torso, suspected pneumothorax - and their assessment results - blood pressure 70/40 and unresponsive in the field - over the blood rushing through his ears.
Four hours ago you were smiling at him during shift change, the two of you speaking in quiet tones as Jack complimented your hair and confirmed your availability for your second date that coming weekend. Four hours ago he watched you walk away feeling lighter than he had in years, actually looking forward to the future. Four hours ago you were fine. Now you were lying on the gurney in front of him and Jack felt like all the air in his chest evaporated.
Lena, the night shift charge nurse, had thankfully taken notice of Jack's tunnel vision as he began examining you and probing your injuries, and she took charge to order half of the people crammed into the room out to make space to work. Jack ordered medications and tests in a daze as Ellis checked your chest, while Bridget, one of the nurses, took over squeezing the oxygen bag after the intubation was completed.
"What the fuck happened?" Ellis asked as she noted bruising to the skin covering your ribs.
"Bystander said she stepped in to stop a man who was hitting his girlfriend. The man turned on her instead and the girlfriend ran off. The guy got a few good blows in before the elderly convenience store owner across the street came out with his shotgun and scared the guy off." The paramedic explained.
"Yeah? And what was the bystander doing? Twiddling his thumbs while he watched?" Ellis shot back in anger as she prepped your chest for a chest tube to address the pneumothorax.
Before the paramedic could reply, the machines in the room began beeping rapidly as your stats started to fall. Jack's heart seized in panic as the number went dangerously low. Walsh, seemingly having appeared out of nowhere, opened your eyes to flash her pen light over them.
"Her pupils are blown. She has a brain bleed, we need to get her upstairs to surgery now!" In a flurry of movement, the team got everything they needed mobilized and rushed you over to the elevator to bring you up to the OR floor. No one questioned Jack getting into the elevator with you but he was stopped by Walsh at the surgical wing doors.
"I got it from here." She said with a hand outstretched to physically stop Jack from going any further.
"Emery." Jack's voice wavered when he said her name, his eyes still fixed on your gurney as it was rolled down the hallway away from him. Walsh paused, not having heard Jack sound so scared in a long time. He'd put a lot into her name - please help her, please save her, don't let her die - and Walsh understood all of it. She'd known Jack a long time, she'd been there overseas when his leg had been blown off, she was the one who made sure he didn't bleed out and saved his life. For lack of a better term, she was one of his best friends.
"I've got her Jack." Without another word, she took off through the double doors to follow you down the hall to surgery. Jack stood there staring, completely frozen, for who knows how long. He wasn't actually sure how he got from the hallway to the waiting room, probably a nurse who took pity on him and guided him to a chair.
As much as he knew that he was needed downstairs, Jack wasn't in any state to be helping patients. He couldn't even feel his limbs. His mind just spun with images of you, the pretty smile you gave him over your shoulder has you'd left earlier in the evening and then of your face spattered with blood and swollen from the beating you took. Frustration and anger filled Jacks chest and he put his head in his hands.
He was going to be sick.
He was going to cry.
He was going to stand up and kick the waiting room chair across the room.
In the end Jack didn't do any of that. Instead he sat there, palms pressed against his eyes, and tried his best to breath.
Hours long brain and abdominal surgery later, Jack ended up where he was now, sitting next to your bedside in the ICU.
Dana moved slowly into the room and around to the opposite side of the bed. She carefully ran the back of her fingers over your purple tinted cheek, her other hand holding onto the crucifix around her neck in a habitual gesture of comfort. Robby came over to stand next to Jack and placed his hand on his shoulder.
"Did they-" Robby's voice was strained and he coughed in an attempt to clear it. "Did they catch the man who did this?"
"I don't know. I've been here all night." Jack remained unmoving, not taking his eyes off you for even a moment.
"There are some cops downstairs talking to the victim of a hit and run. I'll ask them to look into it for us." Dana offered as she looked down at you, her face painted with a soft sorrow. She took one of your hands in both of hers and bent down to place a tender kiss on the back of your hand before she turned and left. Robby backed away until he was standing at the foot of the bed.
"I have to go back to the Pitt. The staff need help, they're all distraught over the news." Robby's hand squeezed the strap of his backpack. "Tell us if there are any changes."
"I'm not leaving until she wakes up." Jack finally turned his head and looked Robby in the eye. "I was serious about what I said. I'm not coming into work tonight. In fact, consider this conversation my official Leave of Absence request."
"Jack."
"Robby." Jack's tone left no room for argument. The two men paused for a moment, staring at each other as a silent conversation passed between them. Robby nodded once and left, and Jack knew that he hadn't escaped the uncomfortable conversation with Robby about what his words implied. In a normal situation, an attending would not be requesting time off to sit at his residents bedside. Robby could read between the lines and Jack would have to explain himself later.
But he didn't need to do that now. Right now, you were all that mattered.
The next few hours passed in a blur. Walsh stopped by to check on you after her shift ended, reminding Jack that the surgery went well and your stats were good, it was on you now to wake up. A somber Mel came by to drop off a coffee and a sandwich that Jack suspected was from Dana. Mel took note of your stats, asked Jack if he needed anything, and returned to the ED to update everyone. A few more doctors on the surgical and ICU teams came by to check on you throughout the day but for the most part it was you, Jack, and the beeping machines keeping each other company all day.
Jack was crazy about you. It took him a long time to admit it since the last time he felt this way was with his late wife. His feelings for you hadn't been instantaneous, it started off slowly, quietly, with conversations in the break room on the rare slow night, which became coffee exchanged at shift change on other days. Talking about the weather and plans for the weekend became deep and meaningful conversations about your dreams and aspirations, and your traumas and self-care. Snacks exchanged in between patients turned into Jack taking you out for breakfast after a long night shift. Those meals turned into time spent together on the weekends with you asking Jack to teach you some self-defense and the two of you exercising together.
Jack eventually got up the courage to ask you on a date and the two of you went to this small, hole-in-the-wall restaurant that he knew of. In the secluded corner of the restaurant, you two shared a meal and intimate conversation, and Jack found himself laughing more than he had in years. He got you flowers, your favourite kind, and held your hand on the walk after dinner. When he dropped you off at home, he didn’t kiss you goodnight, but you did kissed his cheek in thanks and told him you were looking forward to seeing him again.
You brightened up Jack’s day, you made him feel more alive than he had felt in years. He hadn’t gone up to the roof in months. His therapist knew about you and had encouraged the relationship.
All he could think about now was the second date he had planned and the possibility that the two of you might never go on it. Jack tried to keep his mind from spiraling into a pit of despair, but he couldn’t help it. So many things had gone wrong in his life, first his father leaving and his mother passing, then his leg having to be amputated, and in more recent years, the death of his wife. Jack almost felt foolish, thinking he would be able to have something as lovely as you in his life. He knew it was early and he didn’t want to scare you off, but the truth was that he loved you and he hadn’t even gotten a chance to tell you yet.
As the day winded down closer to shift change, Jack was startled to his feet by the sound of you choking. Relief flooded through Jack's bones as your body fought the intubation tube, indicating you were awake and able to breath on your own. He slapped the call button before ducking out of the room to quickly grab a pair of gloves and come back in to help you.
"It's alright sweetheart." Jack said as he removed the tape from your mouth and helped to pull the intubation tube from your throat. "Try and cough." He instructed as he gently pulled. A few staff ran into the room to help and Jack smiled when you took a big gasp of air when they fully extubated you.
The nurses were quick to wipe the spit from your mouth and chin, and a surgical resident, Garcia, began asking you questions and attempting to shine a light in your eyes to gauge your pupil response. You groaned faintly at the uncomfortable crowding of your body, your eyes squeezed shut, and tried to weakly raise your arm to wave the staff away.
"Hey." Jack said sternly, the loud, commanding sound of his voice catching the attention of everyone in the room and halting their movement. He carefully pushed Garcia's hand away from your face and waved a hand sharply at the rest of the staff in a silent gesture to get them to back up too.
"She's been unconscious for over fifteen hours. Give her a minute."
"Jack," You murmured, your voice low and scratchy from the intubation tube. Jack immediately turned his full attention to you, bending down to be in your eye line.
"Hey." He said softly as he rested his hand carefully on your shoulder. With a considerable amount of effort, you were able to open your eyes and look at his calm, caring face. You licked your very dry lips and tried to speak again.
"C-" Your voice cracked and you groaned. Jack rubbed his thumb encouragingly over your shoulder and he nodded slowly for you to try again. "Can I have some water?" Jack glanced over his shoulder and made eye contact with a nurse who got the message and left the room.
"Garcia needs to do a cogitative and physical exam, okay?" Jack said to you in a gentle voice. You hummed your acknowledgement and Jack nodded at Garcia to go ahead. Jack stayed right by your side as Garcia checked your eyes, the feeling in your limbs, and asked you a few questions to test your memory. You passed all the tests with flying colours and was rewarded with some sips of water. Garcia's pager went off and she spoke to Jack as she walked out.
"That's the ED. I'll let them know she's awake." Soon the rest of the staff filtered out until it was just you and Jack again. He took up residence in the chair he'd been occupying for the past day and took your hand in his. You did your best to squeeze his hand and his mouth twitched with a smile.
"I tried to fight back." You said after a moment. Jack shifted to the edge of his seat, getting closer to you, and raised his free hand to cup your face. "I used everything you taught me but he hit me so hard I couldn't see." Tears welled up in your eyes and Jack knew it wasn't from the memory of the attack, but at the disappointment you felt in yourself.
"You did everything you could and you're alive. That's what matters." You swallowed past the lump in your throat at his words and you did your best to smile. Jack was doing a good job of keeping it together, of being your steady rock during this horrific ordeal, but you could see the whisper of fear in his eyes, just past the loving look. You noticed he was still wearing his scrubs.
"What time is it?"
"A little past 6pm. You were brought in last night."
"You've been here all day?" You asked, a hint of disbelief in your voice.
"Of course," Jack said quietly, his thumb rubbing tenderly across your cheek. "Where else would I be?" The feeling of love that inflated your chest was almost overwhelming. Jack had stayed here all day, and from his demeanor and body language, you assumed he planned to stay all night too.
You thought back to your first date, the way the confident and unshakeable Dr. Jack Abbot had almost seemed nervous when he picked you up at your apartment. The look of awe on his face when you opened the door was something you'd remember forever. The night had been perfect, and like a true gentleman he didn't kiss you goodnight because that would be too forward, so you snuck a quick kiss to his cheek because you couldn't stand the idea of finishing the night without being that close to him.
It occurred to you that if last night had ended differently, you would have never gotten the chance to really kiss him.
"Kiss me." You said. Jack hesitated for a moment and you tugged on his hand. "I'm alive." Jack took in a deep breath at your words, letting them wash over him. He pushed off the chair and leaned in, gently pressing his lips to yours. The kiss was delicate and comforting, and when Jack pulled away he didn't go very far, his face still hovering close to yours. His eyes moved minutely, soaking up every detail of your face. He looked at you so adoringly you almost cried.
"Thank you for staying." You whispered, not wanting to pop the intimate bubble around the two of you.
"Of course." He said, like it was an obvious thing he would do, that for him to have done anything else would have been ridiculous. There was no other place Jack was going to be except by your side. The love in your chest bloomed brighter and you smiled.
"Kiss me again."