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2016-08-24
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Cassé, mais ensemble

Summary:

When Jack goes down, Bitty feels fear curling ice cold in his gut, seeping into his veins and spreading outwards. There’s a long moment where Bitty forgets how to breathe, because Jack hasn’t gotten up. When he does get up it’s hardly any better because his face is contorted with pain and god, his arm…

The whole time Bitty watches Jack being ushered off the ice, he has the same two thoughts running through his mind over and over again; lord, let him be okay and I need to be with him right now.

Notes:

Many thanks to my lovely beta, sir-alan-of-trebond.

(See the end of the work for more notes and other works inspired by this one.)

Work Text:

“Fuck,” Shitty breathes into the tense silence of the Haus living room. “Holy shit. I don’t think his arm is supposed to bend that way.”

That’s the last thing that Bitty fully registers before he’s on his feet, staring wide eyed at the TV, his whole body gone cold. The camera is on Jack’s face now, which is strained and far too pale, but moments before it was on Jack’s arm, which is twisted in an unnatural way. Bitty felt sick at the sight of it.

When Jack went down, Bitty felt like the air had been punched out of his lungs. Minutes later, it still didn’t seem like he’d gotten it back.

A paramedic was talking to Jack now, who was listening to her tight lipped, his eyes noticeably clouded with pain.

The room is buzzing with activity now; Shitty is standing on the couch and waving his hands as he talks frantically. Ransom and Holster are shouting a lot. Dex and Nursey are wearing equally concerned expressions while they both try to comfort Chowder, who is gesturing and talking very rapidly between them, looking utterly distressed.

Bitty’s not really paying attention to any of them.

“Lardo,” Bitty says quietly, his eyes still on the screen while he shuffles his way over to where she’s sitting on the couch. “Can I talk to you alone for a minute?”

Without saying anything, she stands up, takes his hand and leads him into the kitchen.

Lardo’s turning to him, her mouth opening to speak, just as Bitty starts talking.

“Can I borrow your car?” Bitty asks. The words tumble out quick and frantic, and he’s certain that his emotions are spilling out onto the kitchen floor, even though he’s trying to keep the worry out of his voice. He doesn’t think he’s succeeding.

Lardo studies him for a long moment. “To go to Providence?”

Bitty bites his lip. “Yes. Please, I can’t explain, I’m so sorry Lardo but I… I really need to go.”

She narrows her eyes a bit, appraising him for a few moments longer, before reaching out and resting a hand on his shoulder and squeezing lightly. “Wait here,” she says. She slips out of the room, leaving Bitty to slump back against the counter.

When she comes back, she presses her keys in his hands and gives him a meaningful look. “I’ll crash here tonight,” she tells him.

“Thank you, Lardo,” Bitty breathes out and pitches himself forward, throwing his arms around her neck in a quick hug. He breathes out a shuddering breath and bites down into his lip, willing himself not to cry. His eyes are damp and now just isn’t the time for tears.

She wraps her arms around his waist briefly, then nudges him away. “Go out the back,” she tells him. “I’ll cover for you.”

In that moment, Bitty is so utterly, profoundly grateful for Lardo. She knows something’s up, she’s too smart not to know, but her silent trust in Bitty lifts some of the heaviness in his chest. She doesn’t ask questions; Bitty doesn’t have to tell her that now isn’t really the time to explain, for which he is profoundly grateful.

He kisses her cheek. “Have I mentioned I love you?”

Lardo snorts and rolls her eyes. “Get out of here.” She nudges him again. “And keep us posted on our boy.”

Bitty nods, then he’s out the door, hunting down Lardo’s car and wasting no time getting on the road, on the familiar route to Providence.

Logically, Bitty knows that Jack is probably okay. A broken arm is nothing to sneeze at, but Jack had been alert and coherent, and he hadn’t hit his head. Logical Bitty was trying to stay calm.

Worried boyfriend Bitty, on the other hand…

He kept thinking about Jack’s face, set and determined as paramedics hovered over him, nodding along with whatever they were saying. His eyes, dazed and sharp with pain, made something ache in the pit of Bitty’s stomach.

It just feels wrong to be so far away from him.

The drive feels like triple the forty minutes it actually took to get there.

He’s about ten minutes away from the exit to get to Jack’s apartment when his phone rings. He pulls over to the side of the highway and scrambles for his phone, not even checking the caller ID before answering.

“Hello?”

“Sorry it took me so long to call you,” a female voice says somewhat breathily, steamrolling over Bitty’s greeting. “It’s George.”

“George! Hi!”

“Hello Eric,” she says. Bitty likes George a lot; she’s friendly but brisk and efficient. Exactly what’s needed right now. Bitty is immensely glad that she called. “They’re still poking around at him and wouldn’t let him make any calls until they finished evaluating him, so he asked me to call you.”

“Oh god, it’s bad then?” Bitty clutches the phone tighter his hand and breathes in sharply. He’s still being evaluated and he can’t call Bitty… God, what if it was permanent? Jack would be absolutely broken hearted if he couldn’t play…

“It’s not good,” George answers. “But it’s not the worst either. They’re saying they’re going to take him in for surgery to realign the bone, and they’re optimistic about everything going smoothly.”

“Surgery?” Bitty squeaks.

“He’s going to be fine, Eric,” George says quietly. She chuckles a little bit under her breath. It’s a bit tired, but it’s a nice sound. “You know, the first thing he said to me when they got him off the ice, was ‘I need to call my parents and Bitty’. I would’ve called sooner, but it’s been a little bit crazy around here.”

“No that’s… that’s okay, thank you so much for calling me at all.” Bitty pauses. “Uh, George?”

“Yes?”

“I’m ten minutes away from Providence.”

George laughs. “I had a feeling you might say that.”

Bitty drops his face into one hand and groans. What did he think he was going to do when he got there? He and Jack aren’t public yet; he can’t jeopardize Jack by casually walking into his hotel room just because he’s worried. All he’d been thinking about was getting to Jack, not the finer details of his non-existent plan.

“I didn’t really think it through,” he admits. “Gosh, I’m not going to be able to see him, will I? No one is supposed to know about me.” The thought makes Bitty’s heart clench painfully in his chest.

“Of course you will,” George says reassuringly. There’s a muffled voice speaking rapidly in the background. “Yes… yeah, of course. Eric, I have to go. I’ll text you the address. Someone will tell you where to go to wait for him to get out of surgery. You’ll be on a list of approved visitors.”

“Thank you, George,” Bitty says with a sigh of relief, completely and utterly grateful. “Really, thank you so much.”

“Not a problem,” she says warmly. “I’ll let you tell him that you’re here when he calls you, all right?”

“Okay.”

They hang up then, and for a few moments, Bitty drops his head onto the steering wheel, letting his eyes shut for a moment as he takes a few deep breaths. He tells himself Jack will be fine—Jack is fine. He has people looking after him.

Telling himself that doesn’t help untangle the knot in his stomach in the slightest.

***

“Good evening ma’am.” Despite the fact that he is currently so worried he feels like he might throw up, Bitty greets the woman sitting behind the reception desk with what he hopes is a polite smile. “I’m here to see Jack Zimmermann, could you tell me where I could find his room?”

The woman narrows her eyes at him. “Can I see some ID?”

“Oh! Of course.” Bitty reaches into his pocket and fumbles for his wallet, pulls it out when he finds it and passes it over the counter.

She takes it from him and squints down at it. Then, she turns to a computer and flicks her hand over the mouse for a moment.

“Sorry, dear,” she says a moment later, sliding his drivers licence back over to him. “I’m not able to share any information with you about Mr. Zimmermann.”

The words don’t quite register in Bitty’s mind right away. He takes back his ID, frowning. “Pardon?”

“You aren’t approved to be given any information about Mr. Zimmermann.” The woman is barely paying attention to him anymore, her eyes on the computer screen in front of her as she taps away at her keyboard.

Bitty knows he’s being dismissed, but honestly he doesn’t care a whole lot at this moment. The need to see Jack, to see for himself that Jack is all right, is surging urgently through his body, and he can’t just walk away when he knows Jack is upstairs.

“No. I drove up here to see him. I need to see him.”

The woman sighs and turns back to Bitty, looking slightly less friendly than she did when she first greeted him. “Are you a family member?”

“No,” Bitty says truthfully. His mind turns over frantically as he reminds himself that he can’t continue on truthfully. “I’m his… I’m his friend.”

She doesn’t look impressed by his answer in the slightest. “Listen. I’m not even able to tell you if he’s at this hospital, let alone tell you where to find him. That doesn’t change just because you’re his ‘friend’.”

“Please,” Bitty says, his voice catching in his throat, some of the panic he’s feeling inside cracking through his composure. He knows that at this point it’s useless, but he just can’t bring himself to walk away. It’s not this woman’s fault, he can’t be angry with her for doing her job, but he can feel frustration rising thick and uncomfortable in his throat. He knows Jack is here, and he can’t even get to him. It’s so unfair he can hardly breathe with it.

Logically, he understands the situation he’s in right now. The rules are in place for all patients, but Jack isn’t just his Jack. He’s Jack Zimmermann, beloved NHL star, a budding legend. For all she knows, Bitty could be some crazy fan who sees an opportunity to sneak into Jack’s room.

“Sorry,” she says simply, sounding more tired than apologetic, and turns back to her keyboard. The gesture clearly means that Bitty has been dismissed, and that the conversation is over. Bitty deflates and backs away from the counter.

For a moment he thinks about calling George and asking her for her help, but then he remembers how hectic things sounded when she was on the phone with her earlier, and he doesn’t want to bother her. Really, he’s stuck without knowing a damn thing about Jack until George gets there.

For another moment, he considers bribing her with pie. Then he remembers that he has no way of offering her a pie, and that he could very easily be getting her fired if it were to work anyways.

Basically, he’s stuck and there’s absolutely nothing that he can do.

Even so, Bitty knows that there’s no way in deep fried hell that he’s driving all the way back without seeing Jack with his own two eyes, and verifying that he is all in one piece. He’ll wait all night if he has to.

Bitty ends up flopping down in the nearest of the uncomfortable plastic chairs that he can find. He wraps his arms around himself and ducks his head, as if curling inwards will help keep the turmoil boiling in his chest inside. He wants to cry. He wants to yell at the receptionist, the person who pulled that stunt on the ice and hurt his boyfriend, at everyone and everything that is keeping him from seeing Jack right now.

He wants to cry.

He wants to see Jack.  

***

Somehow, he manages to fall asleep curled up in that uncomfortable chair. He dozes, drifting in and out of sleep until at some point, a soft hand on his shoulder wakes him.

“Eric?”

Bitty makes a sleepy groaning sound and blinks himself awake. The fluorescent lighting makes him squint blearily for a few moments before he becomes more alert.

Alicia and Bob Zimmermann are standing over him. That wakes him up the rest of the way fairly quickly.

“Oh my goodness, hi!” Bitty jumps to his feet, wobbling a bit for a moment as a result of not being completely awake yet and the head rush. “Y’all flew down here for Jack, oh my goodness he’ll be so happy to see you!”

Alicia immediately draws Bitty into a tight hug, and Bitty finds himself with his face pressed against her shoulder. As he does every time he gets hugged by Alicia Zimmermann, Bitty idly thinks that Jack inherited his hugging skills from his mother.

“It’s good to see you again, Bittle,” Bob says as Alicia releases him. He puts a hand on Bitty’s shoulder and squeezes, giving Bitty a tired yet friendly smile. “It’d be nice if it were under different circumstances, but sentiment is still the same.”

Bitty manages a weak smile in return. “You too, Mr. Zimmermann.”

“Why are you down here?” Alicia asks. When Bitty turns to her, he sees that she’s frowning. “We were just about to head up to Jack’s floor, we expected that we would see you up there already.”

“Ah,” Bitty says. He sighs heavily. “Well, you see, they wouldn’t let me in? I mean, it’s totally understandable seeing as they have to be extra careful about Jack, and I’m not on the list… gosh, I didn’t even think about it before I left! I just started driving up here as soon as I saw how bad it was, but then I got in here and she couldn’t even tell me that Jack is here—“

“Hey,” Bob interrupts him. He gives Bitty a small smile and squeezes his shoulder. “We’ll take care of it, all right?”

Bitty catches his bottom lip between his teeth. He doesn’t want to cause more trouble for them, but lord above he wants to see Jack. “I don’t wanna be an inconvenience,” he says, but by the time he opens his mouth, it’s too late. Alicia is already turning on her heel and taking off in the direction of the receptionist.

Bitty recognizes her determined expression; furrowed brow, eyes blazing and mouth set in a straight line. He’s seen it on her son’s face more than once.

He makes a mental note to chirp Jack for it later.

“Don’t worry about it,” Bob is saying now, throwing an arm over Bitty’s shoulders. “We’ll take care of it.”

“Thank you,” Bitty says softly. Bob squeezes his shoulder again and Bitty feels relief lift some of the weight off of his chest and the knot in his stomach finally starts to unravel a little bit.

It turns out that Alicia Zimmermann is a no nonsense type of mom, especially when it comes to her son’s boyfriend being denied access to his hospital room. Bob and Bitty watch as she very politely and firmly takes care of the situation. In hardly any time at all, they’re on their way up the elevator and Bitty can’t stop thanking them. Alicia looks tired when she assures Bitty that it was just a small mix-up, and her hand is warm and grounding when she squeezes Bitty’s shoulder reassuringly.

The waiting room where they end up feels just as stifling and painfully quiet, but Bitty is grateful that at least now he’s not alone and he’s actually close to Jack.

He falls asleep again, legs tucked up underneath himself and he’s using Bob’s jacket as a pillow. Bitty had tried very, very hard to refuse and insist that he was okay and didn’t need it, but Bob was very persistent and a few minutes later he was dozing off with the jacket tucked under his head.

This time, sleeping is significantly more restful than it had been downstairs. It probably has a lot to do with the relief of not being alone, and having someone there who actually has some control over the situation. Whatever it is, Bitty almost instantly falls into a much needed slumber.

Bitty’s awoken some time later by a soft hand on his shoulder gently shaking him awake. He blinks his eyes open blearily to see that Bob is hovering over him, telling him that Jack is awake, he’s doing alright and they can go in and see him now. Bitty feels an invisible weight lift off of him; he knew that Jack was going to be fine, but actually hearing the words makes all the difference in the world.

Bitty ends up insisting on letting them go in first without him, and he sees that they both are ready to insist that he comes in with them, but something on Bitty’s face seems to stop them. He’s grateful that they don’t argue; they just give him tired smiles and tell Bitty that they’ll come get him in a few minutes. Then they’re gone and Bitty finds himself standing out in the hallway, wringing his hands for what feels like hours but is probably minutes.

It’s not long before the Zimmermanns reappear with the news that Jack is very eager to see Bitty, which of course makes Bitty’s heart flutter. It’s silly, he knows it is, Jack’s his boyfriend. Of course he wants to see Bitty. Still, it’s been a long night and Jack hadn’t known he was coming—who could blame him for feeling a little bit off balance.

They tell Bitty that they’re going to go get coffee and that they’ll leave the two of them alone. Bob squeezes Bitty’s shoulder and Alicia gave him another quick hug on their way out the door, then they were gone, leaving Bitty alone to go in the room to see Jack.

When Bitty walks in, the first thing that he notices is that Jack looks disproportionately small laying there in the hospital bed, surrounded by too much white, his face drawn and tired. His arm is confined in a cast, and he’s wearing one of those hospital gowns.

He looks exhausted and his eyes are distant—likely from the medication—but Bitty has never been happier to see anyone in his entire life.

His heart beats erratically in his chest and relief rolls through him like a wave when Jack’s face breaks out in a lopsided smile and he says “Bitty! You’re here!”

“Hey honey, of course I’m here” Bitty says, crossing the room to stand beside Jack, who is pretty much just beaming up at him sleepily. Bitty reaches down to brush Jack’s hair away from his forehead. “Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?”

Bitty’s hand lingers, his fingers trailing down the side of Jack’s face until his palm is pressed against Jack’s cheek, his thumb stroking the ridge of his cheekbone.

“’M so glad you’re here,” Jack says.

Bitty shrugs and smiles down at him softly. “I had to be here for my boy when he woke up, didn’t I now?”

Jack’s eyes are a bit unfocused, but his gaze is steady and familiar on Bitty’s face.

“I love your voice,” Jack murmurs. He reaches one hand up and curls his finger gently around Bitty’s wrist. His eyes flutter shut and he leans into Bitty’s touch slightly, pressing into his palm. Bitty’s heart stutters in his chest; Jack is solid and whole in front of him, the familiar lilt of his accent and his rumbling baritone rings sweetly in his ears. Relief crashes over him like a wave.

It’s one thing to be told that his boyfriend is going to be okay, and another to see him with his own eyes, to touch him and hear his voice.

“Can a voice be warm?” Jack continues. His eyes open and he squints up at Bitty, who instantly wants to kiss his stupidly endearing face. Jack’s words are all running together, sharp with his accent in some places, soft and slurred in others. “’Cause yours is. Makes me feel safe.”

“Goodness gracious,” Bitty says, feeling faint heat staining his cheeks. Apparently the morphine has Jack more than a little bit loopy; Jack is affectionate, yes, but normally isn’t quite so blunt about it. Quite often, Bitty will catch him staring at him and will say something like “see something you like, Mr. Zimmerman?”

Jack always responds with a firm “yes,” completely unabashed and unashamed that he’d been caught staring. Then his mouth will quirk up at the corner, his eyes will go all soft and he’ll say something like “I love your cowlick. It always sticks up and it’s so cute. You’re cute,” or, once he peered at Bitty for a long moment before saying, “Brown eyes are definitely the prettiest.”

Every time Jack does it, Bitty feels like someone set him on fire. Usually he hides it by going up on his toes and kissing that silly boyfriend of his.

This is different, though. Jack’s eyes are drooping a little bit and he looks all sleep-happy and distant, and it’s almost like the words are falling out of his mouth without his permission. It’s sweet, and painfully honest in a way that warms Bitty all the way down to his toes.

“I’ll remember that next time you yell at me for singing in the shower,” Bitty laughs.

Bitty draws his hand away, his wrist slipping through Jack’s fingertips. Jack’s hand drops down onto the bed as Bitty grabs a nearby chair and drags it over beside Jack’s bed.

Just as he’s going to sit down, Jack frowns at him. He looks absolutely scandalized. “What are you doing?”

Bitty pauses halfway into sitting down, hovering over the chair. “Um. Sitting down?”

Then, Jack does this wiggling sort of thing, twisting and wriggling as far as he can to the other side of the bed. He pats the spot beside him. “You have to cuddle with me,” Jack says very seriously.

Bitty rolls his eyes fondly and laughs. “Jack, I’m sure there are rules against that! I can’t just crawl into your hospital bed!”

Jack’s frown deepens. “That’s silly. Of course you can.”

“I think it’s pretty reasonable, honey.”

“It’s not.”

“Wanna tell me why?”

“Because I want you to.”

Bitty’s huffs out a laugh as his eyes assess the space on the bed. “Is there even enough room? I don’t want to hurt you, honey.”

Jack does the wiggling thing again, and Bitty has to bite back a laugh. It doesn’t really help the space situation at all but damn it if he doesn’t look ridiculous and adorable doing it.

Throwing up his hands in defeat, Bitty rolls his eyes. “Gosh, you’re ridiculous. Fine , you win,” he laughs.

Jack grins at him, looking rather smug about his victory.

Bitty carefully clambers up onto the bed, trying very hard not to jostle Jack or fall off the bed due to the severe lack of space. He settles into place against Jack’s side, curling around him so that he’s higher on the pillow than Jack. The bed is relatively small even for just one person, so comfortably fitting a large hockey player as well as someone else on it is nearly impossible. Luckily, Bitty isn’t deterred by the challenge. Bitty ends up all but laying on top of him, his legs draped across his lap. Bitty’s arm ends up curved around Jack’s shoulder, Jack’s good arm curved around his waist. Jack hums appreciatively and turns his face so that he can press his nose into the crook of Bitty’s neck. It’s cramped, but Bitty thinks that he couldn’t possibly get close enough to Jack right now, no matter how hard he tried.

“You big sap,” Bitty murmurs, ducking his head and pressing his face against Jack’s head, grinning into his hair. “How are you feeling, sweetheart?”

“Like I broke my arm,” Jack mumbles, his voice muffled against Bitty’s shirt. “Can’t feel it though. They gave me… uh…” Jack pulls away and frowns in confusion.

“Morphine?” Bitty suggests.

“Yes!” Jack’s face lights up and he leans in to press a rather sloppy kiss to Bitty’s cheek before dropping his head onto his shoulder. “So smart,” he murmurs, “my boyfriend’s so smart.”

As per usual, Bitty gets a little bit of a thrill when Jack says boyfriend. Gosh, he doesn’t think that will ever get old. Jack Zimmermann is his boyfriend.

Bitty has a suspicion that Jack feels the same way, considering the way that he’s all but clinging to Bitty, his face tucked into the crook of his neck, breath soft where ghosts across Bitty’s collarbone.

Just like that, Bitty feels the tension of the past couple hours melt from his body.

Bitty kisses the top of Jack’s head, his lips lingering there for a long moment. “I’m so happy to see you, honey,” Bitty says into his hair. “You scared the heck outta me though, goodness gracious.”

“Sorry,” Jack murmurs into Bitty’s skin. His fingers tighten momentarily on Bitty’s hip. “But you came.”

“Of course I came,” Bitty says, his voice going soft on his tongue. “It’s probably against the rules for me to stay in here,” Bitty whispers. He doesn’t know a whole lot about hospital regulation, but he’s pretty sure that sleeping in your injured boyfriend’s hospital bed probably violates some rule or another.

“Maybe,” Jack mumbles. He sounds wholly unconcerned. “You’re too cute to kick out, though. No one can resist those big brown eyes.”

Bitty makes a disgruntled noise and flicks Jack’s shoulder, which earns him a quiet laugh from deep in Jack’s throat, which rumbles pleasantly in Bitty’s ear.

“You hush,” Bitty says, feeling a familiar heat stain his cheeks. Once in awhile, when Bitty isn’t expecting it, Jack’s casual and, frankly, quite sappy compliments will get him flustered. He’s glad it’s dark enough that Jack can’t tell. “You leave my normal sized eyes out of this.”

“Or you could bribe them with pie,” Jack says. His voice is getting distant and his words are starting to slur together, which always happens when he’s trying to stay awake even when he’s exhausted. “’s not like you haven’t done that before, eh?”

“Injured or not, you’re gonna have to stop chirping me, mister,” Bitty grumbles. Jack laughs quietly again, and Bitty smiles, revelling in the sound.

He ducks his head to brush a kiss across the crest of Jack’s cheekbone, and brushes an unruly lock of hair away from his forehead. “I think it’s time to go to sleep, baby. It’s been a bit of a long day, hm?”

“Mmm,” Jack agrees. He shifts closer and sighs into Bitty’s shirt. “Bitty?”

“Yes, honey?”

“Thank you for coming for me. You didn’t have to come but.” Jack pauses there and inhales a shuddering breath before continuing. “But I’m so glad you’re here.”

Bitty frowns. “Jack. Jack, honey, look at me.”

Jack pries his eyes open and tilts his head up to look at Bitty, his eyes bleary and fogged with exhaustion. A familiar line has appeared between his brows, the one he always gets when he’s confused. Bitty loves it; on his sleepy face it makes him look younger than he is, in a way that makes Bitty’s heart ache a little bit.

Bitty leans down and kisses him; it’s brief and gentle, and Jack pushes up into it with a pleased hum, his finger curling in Bitty’s shirt.

“I can’t make any promises, just like you can’t,” Bitty says when they break apart. He strokes a hand through Jack’s hair. “I’m not always going to be able to come. You might be too far away. I might not have a car. Something could get in the way of me being here, no matter how much I want to be with you. But Jack?”

“Mmm?”

“I’m always going to come when I can, sweetheart. When I saw you go down…” Bitty pauses and shakes the memory away; his thoughts in that moment were not ones that he wanted to relive. “I was so scared, baby. Even when you got up, I was terrified, and all I could think about was coming here and being with you.”

Jack’s gaze is intent and focused; through the tiredness that is making his eyes droop, he’s staring up at Bitty with something unreadable in his expression.

When Jack leans in, Bitty meets him halfway for the kiss, lingering sweetly for a long moment, his fingers still tangled in Jack’s hair.

“Love you,” Jack whispers against his lips.

“I love you too,” Bitty smiles, pulling away. “Now go to sleep, sweetheart. Your pie privileges are on the line here, Mr. Zimmermann. I’m not above revoking them to bribe you to get to sleep.”

Thankfully, Jack nods and settles against Bitty’s side, his eyes sliding shut. “’Kay,” he murmurs. “Night, Bittle.”

“Good night, sweetheart,” Bitty whispers and kisses his forehead before leaning back against the pillows, his arms still looped around Jack.

It hardly takes any time at all before Jack’s breaths even out in sleep, his chest softly rising and falling in a steady rhythm.

Bitty closes his eyes, and it isn’t long before he follows behind him.

***

When Bitty wakes, his neck is stiff, his arm is asleep and Jack is already awake. None of these things surprise him.

“Morning,” Bitty says, yawning and straightening up to stretch. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m going to be out for the rest of the season,” Jack says. His voice is flat and blunt, and so quiet, as though he doesn’t dare say it any louder.

Bitty freezes halfway through stretching his arms overhead. His arms drop to his side just as his heart sinks heavily in his chest.

“Yeah,” he says softly. Tentatively, he reaches out to curl his fingers around Jack’s limp hand that’s resting on his thigh. “Yeah, honey. I know.”

Jack breathes out harshly, and it’s such a broken, frantic sound that Bitty swears he feels his heart shatter.

Jack’s uninjured hand flies up to cover his eyes and he makes a strangled sound deep in his throat.

“Oh, Jack ,” Bitty breathes. His heart clenches painfully in his chest.

Jack swears in French, the words sharp and guttural on his tongue. His chest rises and falls erratically, his breath rattling unpleasantly in his lungs.

Hardly even pausing to think it through, Bitty scoots over and swings one leg over Jack’s waist, settling into his lap like he has a million times before. He knows that Jack’s mind is racing right now, that it doesn’t feel like enough air is getting in his lungs.

He also knows that Jack responds best to touch at times like this.

Bitty reaches out and cups his face in his two hands, pressing his palms against his cheeks. Jack’s hand drops and his eyes are closed as Bitty leans in and presses his forehead against Jack’s.

“It’s going to be okay,” Bitty says, his voice low. He tries to make himself sound as calm and reassuring as possible. “It’s not your fault, baby. You hear me? You’re going to be fine and you’ll be back on the ice before you know it.”

Bitty isn’t even really sure if Jack is registering anything he’s saying at this point, but he knows that Jack likes hearing the sound of his voice, so Bitty just keeps talking, murmuring soothing words as he strokes his fingers gently over Jack’s skin.

His breath is coming out in shaky gasps, his eyes are wide open but he doesn’t seem to see Bitty. The first time that Bitty saw Jack in a state like this, it was among the most terrifying moments of his life, because he had no idea how to react or how to help Jack. He ended up calling Shitty, who was quite honestly a life saver and talked Bitty through it.

Since then, Jack has gotten like this enough times that he feels like he knows what to do. It doesn’t make him ache any less, it always hurts to see Jack in pain, but at least now he feels more like he can handle it.

So, he just keeps talking to Jack, keeps touching him gently, reassuring him. At some point, Jack lets out a shaky exhale and leans into Bitty’s touch, which makes Bitty’s heart lighten a little bit. It’ll take a little while, but Jack is coming back to him.

Eventually the shaking stops. Bitty’s halfway through a story about that one and only time that he burnt a pie when Jack stirs. He shudders a little bit as if he were shaking himself from a bad dream, and relaxes his arms from where they were clamped tightly around his own torso. Bitty makes a soft little relieved sound when Jack’s arms start to wind around his waist, and Jack presses his face into the crook of Bitty’s neck.

“Hey honey,” Bitty says. He kisses the top of Jack’s head. “You came back to me.”

“Sorry,” Jack says hoarsely.

“Nothing to be sorry about,” Bitty says. Jack always apologizes. He never needs to. “I promise.”

Jack doesn’t answer. He just leans in closer and tightens his arms around Bitty’s waist.

They sit there quietly for a long time, Jack clinging to Bitty and breathing into the crook of Bitty’s neck, Bitty stroking his fingers through Jack’s hair. Bitty is pretty sure that Jack dozes off at some point, but Bitty is far too awake and keyed up to fall back asleep at this point. Jack needs the rest, but Bitty is wide awake and there’s no way he can go back to sleep at that point.

It doesn’t take too long for him to realize that he is too restless to lay in bed any longer--plus his stomach is aching with emptiness and growling softly. He doesn’t want to disturb Jack, so once he’s certain that Jack is completely out again, he very carefully slips out of bed, drops a kiss on Jack’s forehead and leaves the room. He steals one last look at Jack’s peaceful face before shutting the door behind him.

The hospital food is sufficiently horrible, but it does the trick. After eating muffin that claims to be blueberry, and a bowl of cereal, Bitty’s feeling a little bit more steady on his feet.

After he eats, he calls Lardo and tells her that Jack’s doing fine. He ends up on speakerphone with Shitty, Holster and Ransom as he assures them all that Jack is going to be okay.

Shitty utters a soft swear under his breath and the rest of them make varying sympathetic noises when Bitty tells them that what the doctors said--a Barton fracture, will heal cleanly in time--and that Jack will be out for the rest of the season, but none of them actually sound surprised. Bitty’s heart clenches when he tells them, and he can tell the rest of them feel similar about it. They all know how hard Jack is going to take that.

Shitty declares that he's going to drive up to see Jack, and Bitty is positive that Jack will be pleased about that. He knows how much Jack misses Shitty. 

None of them ask why Bitty took off to Providence like a bat out of hell without even saying anything. Bitty is eternally grateful.

He suspects it’s Lardo’s doing. He’s going to hug her for ten minutes straight and bake her favourite pie when he gets back.

Bitty promises Lardo he’ll get her car back to her later that day, says his goodbyes and hangs up. When he gets back upstairs, Jack is awake again and insists--more coherently than he had yesterday--that Bitty get in bed with him again. Bitty teases him a little bit for being clingy, but it’s nothing new; Bitty had discovered very shortly after they started dating just how cuddly Jack Zimmermann is.

When Bitty tells Jack that he has to return Lardo’s car to her so he’ll need to drive back to Samwell later on that day, Jack frowns unhappily and asks if he’s allowed to accompany him and stay at the Haus with him for a few days. He looks a little embarrassed after he says it, a little hesitant, as if he’s worried that he shouldn’t have asked or that Bitty might say no.

Bitty just kisses him and reassures him; he has nothing to worry about. He’s not exactly sure it’s the best idea, but Jack is stubborn and he promises to take it easy; he just wants to be with Bitty and he wants to see the team again. He perks up when he hears that Shitty is visiting the Haus for a few days--since Bitty has to shoot a text off to him to let him know that they're coming to him instead--and then there’s absolutely no changing his mind.

Jack is discharged later that day with strict instructions to be careful and to take it easy. They bid Alicia and Bob farewell when they leave for the airport to head back to Montreal. After a quick trip to Jack’s apartment to pick up a few things, Bitty’s turning onto the highway with Jack sitting in the passenger seat. Jack links their fingers together with his uninjured hand whenever Bitty doesn’t explicitly need it to drive, his thumb rubbing gently against the back of his hand in a soft, soothing motion.

Jack doesn’t speak until halfway through the drive. They’ve just been sitting in comfortable silence with the radio playing softly in the background. Bitty assumes that he’s still trying to process the whole ordeal, and doesn’t want to overwhelm him so he keeps quiet.

When Jack speaks though, it’s not about his injury or the fact that he’s out for the season.

“George yelled at me this morning,” he says.

Bitty startles, pulled out of his own thoughts. his eyes flick over to Jack, who is now staring at him with a steady gaze, his blue eyes bright and intent in the afternoon light.

“What?” Bitty asks, confused. “Why on earth did she yell at you?”

“I deserved it. I owe you an apology,” Jack says. He sounds so earnest and concerned and Bitty has no idea what he’s talking about.

“Jack--”

“I didn’t put you on the list.”

Oh.

Oh.

So that’s what the problem had been.

Bitty’s heart lurches at the memory of sitting down in the waiting room, sick with worry and unsure if Jack was okay. His chest tightens and he draws in a sharp breath, trying to keep a grimace off of his face.

“Honey, you didn’t do anything wrong,” Bitty forces out. “I understand why I wasn’t on the list, it was too risky.”

Jack is shaking his head almost as soon as Bitty starts talking. “No. No, George was right. You should’ve been on the list. I was scared, but that’s not an excuse.”

“Someone could’ve figured it out,” Bitty says feebly. He hates it, but he knows the reality of their situation. “I know how important it is that no one finds out right now Jack, I understand.”

“I don’t deserve you if I can’t even put your name on a confidential list to visit me in the hospital,” Jack bites out bluntly. His voice is brimming with something vaguely angry, and his fingers are tightening around Bitty’s, but Bitty knows Jack well enough to realize that the anger is directed at himself.

“I’m sorry,” Jack continues, and when his voice breaks over the last syllables, Bitty decides that enough is enough; he flicks his signal on and brings the car over to the side of the road.

When they’re stopped and the car is off, he undoes his seatbelt and turns to Jack, his hands raising to press his palms to Jack’s cheeks. Jack looks sad and painfully repentant, like he can’t look at Bitty without feeling guilty. That just won’t do.

“Jack,” Bitty says quietly. “I’m not mad about it.”

“You should be,” Jack says with a pained twist of his lips.

“Don’t tell me how to feel,” Bitty says. The words are stern, but his voice is still soft and gentle. Even so, Jack still flinches slightly and his eyes close for a moment, as if he's steeling himself for the rest of the conversation. 

“Sorry,” he rasps.

“Listen, sweetheart,” Bitty continues, “that was a horrible experience. I was so, so worried and when they told me I couldn’t see you…”

He trails off and Jack grimaces.

“I would’ve been a wreck if it was you,” Jack murmurs.

“I was a wreck,” Bitty admits. “I’m not mad though, Jack. I understand. It sucks, but I understand. There’s a lot at stake here... I mean honey, this is your career we're talking about.”

Jack shakes his head. “I’m not going to hurt you for my benefit, Bits. Not if I can help it. We knew that being together would be risky, and this is one of the risks that’s necessary to take.”

“Jack--”

“Bits, if you were in the hospital and I couldn’t see you...” Jack trails off and shakes his head, as if the thought is too painful and he needs to rid his mind of it immediately. His voice cracks and draws in a shuddering breath before continuing. “I won’t do that to you again.”

Bitty doesn’t know what to say, so he just leans in and presses his lips softly to Jack’s for a moment while he sorts it out. Jack makes a soft sound when their mouths meet, and he curls his fingers around Bitty’s forearm as he leans into the kiss.

“Are you sure,” Bitty asks when they break apart. He’s chewing his bottom lip, looking at Jack worriedly.

Jack looks back at him with a determined set to his brow. “I’m positive.”

Bitty sighs and leans forward, his face finding its way to the crook of Jack’s neck. He clings to Jack, breathing his familiar scent, listening to the sound of his steady breaths.

“Thank you,” Bitty murmurs. He can’t keep the relief out of his voice.

“I’m sorry,” Jack says again, his uninjured arm making its way to curl around Bitty’s waist and tug him closer. Somehow, Bitty ends up in Jack’s lap, his face still tucked into his neck and his arms wrapped around him. Bitty doesn’t want to let him go.

“Apology accepted,” Bitty says, because he knows Jack isn’t going to believe him no matter how many times he says that he’s not angry. “Thank you, Jack.”

In a few minutes, Bitty is going to have to get back in the driver’s seat and they’re going to head back to the Haus, where Jack is going to be ambushed by the team. They’re going to have to worry about keeping their relationship quiet. Jack’s going to have to assure everyone he’s fine, even though Bitty knows he’s not fine, not as along as he’s out for the season.

Jack’s going to have to cope with the whole ordeal, and it’s going to be agony every time he convinces himself that he failed by getting injured. Bitty’s going to have to be patient with him and talk him out of his head, back into the real world. He’ll have to remind him to breathe and that he’s not alone.

Bitty doesn’t even want to think about the first game that Jack has to sit out.

They have a lot to deal with in the coming weeks, but as Bitty curls into Jack and they cling to each other, he figures they can hold off on facing the world for a little while.

It's all right though. Bitty is worried, yes, but he's not scared. He knows that the two of them can handle it. They always manage; even if everything is broken and crumbling all around them, Bitty believes in the two of them together. 

Jack seems unwilling to let Bitty go just yet, so Bitty snuggles in as close as possible and enjoys being in his arms for as long as he can.

Notes:

A couple things:

1. Why is Shitty visiting Samwell? I don't have a good reason other than "I really wanted him to".
2. Shitty was two seconds away from going to Providence to see Jack, but Lardo convinces him to wait til the next day to go see him. I kind of wish I'd written Shitty tagging along with Bitty, but I only thought of it when i was like 6000 words into the fic, so I really didn't want to go back and rewrite it all. Just know that Shitty loves Jack and would've gone to see him in a heartbeat if this silly writer had just let him. I'm sorry, Shitty.
3. I'm sorry if the ending is crappy, I fiddled with it for so long and I decided that it might never be perfect so I might as well accept it.

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