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Light, fluffy snow drifts past the ER’s windows, bringing a beauty to the city of Pittsburgh that cannot be seen during any other season. Inside the Pitt, an unusual quiet sweeps the night – monitors that usually blare loudly are humming quietly, harsh, fluorescent lights are dimmed just enough, and hurried footsteps have quieted to gentle steps.
Dr. Samira Mohan stands at the nurses station, warming up her freezing hands with a small, paper cup of coffee that is already lukewarm. She stares out the window, appreciating the gentle nature of the snow falling in front of her eyes. Though it’s only been coming down for an hour or two, it looks like a hefty amount. Samira wonders if she’s even going to be able to drive out of here. As she checks the clock, she realizes it’s already 3 AM. Taking a deep breath, she takes in the quietness, hoping it lasts forever, when Jack appears behind her. He’s close enough that she can feel the heat radiating from his body.
Jack slowly puts a hand around Samira’s waist. “Pennsylvania declared a state of emergency due to the snow, they’re saying to stay off the roads.” he says, looking down at his phone with his free hand. “We’re stuck here…probably not going to get relief for a while.”
“Oh, great.” Samira exhales, “How long is a ‘while’?”
Jack brings the hand holding Samira’s waist to rub the stubble across his cheeks. “No way to know. Could be hours. Optimistically, we might be able to get out of here before the day shift starts.”
Samira snorts. “That’s just delusion, not optimism. We’re gonna be waiting way longer than that.”
Jack smirks faintly. “Let a guy dream.”
They both walk towards the break room in silence. Neither of them are actually upset about being snowed in. Obviously, they’re getting paid overtime. They both learned a long time ago that the hospital does not care about weather, sleep, or any plans you might have. The Pitt is going to keep operating, regardless of the snow, and emergencies aren’t just going to stop. Jack reaches for the coffee pot Dana refilled for the night shift. As he pours his own cup, he turns towards Samira and tops off the one she’s holding in her hand. It feels so natural, Samira doesn’t even notice at first.
Looking over at him, Samira questions his behavior. “Excuse me, you didn't even ask if I wanted some.”
“Didn’t have to. Know you needed it. Finish this one before it gets cold though, honey.” Jack says with a smile.
Samira smiles as well, watching the steam rise from her cup. “Stop fueling my caffeine addiction. I’m trying to cut back.”
Jack rolls his eyes. “You’re going to drink an Alani later anyways. Stop with the energy drinks. They’re terrible for you. Coffee is way better.”
“Uh huh…” Samira says, giggling. She leans her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes and taking in the scent of his pine and musk cologne. Jack leans over and gives her a soft kiss on the forehead.
“At least we’re snowed in together.” he ruffles her hair a bit.
“Nobody I'd rather be stuck with,” She says, taking a sip of her coffee.
As they walk out of the break room, the ER’s mood has overall shifted. Most of the staff has huddled around the Hub, talking about the storm or their plans after they get out. Their voices are lowered and calm. Patients are still coming, but instead of flooding into the ER, it’s more of a trickle. Most were easy cases – a teenager involved in a minor car accident, a man in his mid-40’s who thought he was having a heart attack but it was actually a panic attack from worrying about the storm, and an older woman brought in by a neighbor who found her wandering outside.
Jack and Samira work quickly and in sync while treating patients. She hands him supplies he needs before he even asks. He administers medicine while she connects with patients, allowing them to feel safe and supported. Often, Jack would catch Samira’s eye from across the room, giving her a look of encouragement that pushed her to keep going – despite her exhaustion.
—
Around five in the morning, Jack catches Samira spinning around in a chair, “completing” a patient's chart. It’s the only way Samira can manage to stay awake. She has her arms wrapped around her knees, trying to heat herself up.
“Doesn’t look like you’re working.” Jack teases.
“I totally am. Can’t you see?” Samira spins again.
Jack softly smiles. “You’re gonna get dizzy and throw up, babe.”
“Flashbacks from Hershey Park?” Samira laughs, then suddenly stops spinning. With a serious look on her face, she says “For the record, I had eaten too much. I wouldn’t have thrown up if you didn’t make me eat that huge pretzel.”
“Sure, whatever you say.”
Samira spins once again.
Jack holds her arms in place to stop her from spinning. He definitely doesn’t want her to throw up right now.
“Jesus, you’re cold.” he says, pulling his hands away from her arms.
“Well it’s always freezing here. Isn’t there heat?” Samira closes her eyes and throws her head back.
Jack peels off his jacket, handing it to Samira. “Here,”
Samira opens her eyes and stares at the jacket. “No way. I’m fine, I promise.”
“Do you want to turn into an ice cube or take the jacket I so graciously offered to my loving, amazing girlfriend?” Jack smiles wide, teeth and all, to get Samira to take the jacket.
“You’re so mean to me.” Samira takes the jacket and throws it over her shoulders.
Jack laughs, knowing he successfully won her over. “Because I didn’t want you to freeze to death? Alright, Mohan.”
“Alright, Abbot.” Samira listens as Jack starts to walk away. “Wait! Kiss?”
“Thought I was mean to you,” Jack questions.
“Not mean enough. I still want a kiss.”
“I’m mean and you’re bossy.” he says as he begins to walk back up to her. “I hope you know we’re still at work.”
Samira pouts. “Boo, loser.”
Jack puts a hand on her shoulder and leans down near her neck. “Do your job, Dr. Mohan. I owe you one after we get off shift.” He whispers into her ear.
—
Jack is unbelievably bored. It’s 7 in the morning now, and he’s seen at most 20 patients all shift. The night shift is usually insane – he isn’t used to the quiet. While he’s grateful for this rare period of calm in the Pitt, he feels useless. Every case that has come in so far has been quick, easy fixes. He figures he should at least get some more coffee if there’s nothing else to do.
As he walks past Central, he hears…singing? It’s coming from Central 10. He peers inside, watching Samira gently pull out a rusty nail from a little girl’s foot, singing a Taylor Swift song quietly to distract her. Like the child, Jack is entranced, staring from the door frame.
Samira throws her hands up after removing the nail. “Okay, all done! You did amazing, Grace.” Samira smiles sweetly at the child.
The girl smiles back, “Thank you”
Samira turns to the parents. “Since your daughter had her Tetanus shot recently, there shouldn’t be an infection. Monitor the wound and make sure there’s no pus or discharge coming from it. If she says her leg feels numb, please come back so we can check it and give her antibiotics if needed.” She pulls off her gloves, throwing them in the trash.
The parents let out a sigh. “Thank you, Doctor.” says the mother.
“Of course. A nurse will come in a second to give you your discharge papers. You guys have a great night.” Samira turns to walk away and sees Jack standing at the door.
As she closes the door of the exam room, she looks over at Jack, who’s smiling like a mischievous four year old. “What?” she asks, rubbing together hand sanitizer.
“Oh, nothing,”
“Jack.”
“Nothing! Just didn’t know you sang to patients.” Jack laughs, thinking about what a great mother she would be. Her compassion has no end.
Samira scoffs. “I literally told you I was in choir AND theatre in high school. I was good.”
“Were you now? Gonna need a concert sometime soon.”
“You’re awful.” Samira nudges Jack with her shoulder.
“Yeah, yeah…”
—
It’s 9 am now. Samira’s starving, and she stands at the vending machine contemplating what to get for her breakfast. Or is it dinner? Lunch? She doesn’t even know anymore. She never buys things from the vending machine, but she has nothing else to eat. Unfortunately, she didn’t foresee getting stuck at the hospital, and ate everything she packed. So far, she’s narrowed down her choice of nutrition to a Kit-Kat bar or a bag of Hot Cheetos. Everything else in the machine sucks. Samira sighs and decides on a bag of Hot Cheetos and the Alani she has in her bag. She puts two dollars into the machine and enters the number of the item she wants on the vending machine’s screen. The chip bag starts to move, then gets stuck.
“Are you serious???” she says quietly to herself.
She looks over to where Mateo is standing at the nurse’s station.
“Mateo! Is this vending machine broken or something? It won’t give me my chips!”
Mateo sighs. “Yeah, that thing has been broken for like two weeks now. Budget is going into other things.”
“Why isn’t there a sign??” Samira is pissed.
“I dunno,” he shrugs.
“How am I supposed to get my chips???”
“I dunno, shake it or something.” Mateo says, dismissively.
Samira exhales, trying to calm herself down.
She shakes the machine. Nothing happens.
She shakes it harder. Nothing happens.
“Oh my fucking god,”
Standing in front of the machine, Samira contemplates what to do next.
She decides to sit on the floor and reach up the vending machines chute to get her chips. Her arms are not long enough to reach her bag of chips, which are on the very top row. She sighs and throws her head on the glass of the machine.
Jack hears a thump and looks over at where Samira is sitting on the floor, already beginning to walk towards her.
“Woah, what are you doing?” Jack stares at Samira curiously.
Samira sighs. “I’m hungry, but apparently nothing in this hospital works and I just got my money stolen by a vending machine. I can’t get my chips.”
“Well it looks like you’re committing a fucking crime,” Jack laughs, way too loud, attracting the attention of people in the ER and making Samira’s cheeks turn red from embarrassment.
She quickly takes her arm out of the vending machine. “Okay, whatever, I just won’t eat anything. And I guess I’ll just lose my two dollars.”
“Nuh uh,” Jack reaches for his wallet and takes out two dollars. “Here’s your money, and I have a secret stash of snacks in the break room. I’ll give you a granola bar or something.”
Samira takes the money. She’s going to sneak it back into his wallet anyways. She finds this way easier than arguing with him about her not wanting to take the money.
He reaches his hand out, trying to get Samira off the floor. “Please get off the floor.”
Samira takes his hand, and they walk to the break room together once again.
“I didn’t need your help, by the way.”
“What do you mean?”
“You don’t need to baby me. I can do things by myself, you know.”
“Woah. Sweetheart, that is not why I did that. I know you can do things by yourself. I’ve seen your work, you’re amazing. I just think you’re a little too independent. It’s okay to ask for help. I’m not caring for you because I think you can’t care for yourself, I want to care for you. I love you.” Jack stares at her intently.
Samira smiles, then laughs. “Is it weird that that kinda turns me on? Sorry, I love you.” She puts her hands over her face.
—
“Robby. I was supposed to get off shift hours ago. The roads are being shoveled already. Is no one coming?” Jack looks down at his phone. “It’s already 12 pm.”
“I just called everyone on day shift telling them to come in. We’ll be there soon, just hold on for a little longer.”
Jack sighs. “Yeah, yeah, whatever.” he says, hanging up.
Jack feels like he’s going crazy. He’s been here for way too long, and his prosthetic hurts like hell. He figures he should tell Samira that they’re at least leaving soon. His thoughts are interrupted by a groan coming from the stall next to him. This guy is shitting his fucking brains out. Jesus. He hurriedly walks out of the bathroom.
As he walks back from the restrooms, he sees Samira asleep at a computer. She fell asleep while typing up a patient's chart. Instead of actual, cohesive words in the description, there’s a jumbled up mess. She’s typed around 30 rows of “ESRDTFVYGUBHJMO” all over the screen. Samira is still spamming letters with her head.
He nudges her softly.
She springs up.
“Hey,” he says, softly. “You okay?”
Samira exhales. “Yeah. Sorry, I’m so exhausted.”
“Don’t apologize. Trust me, I am too. Robby said we may get off shift soon.”
“Oh thank God.”
“Why don’t you just sleep in an on-call room? Definitely better than sleeping on top of a computer’s keyboard.”
“ Those beds are awful. Either way, we’re getting off soon, I’ll make it through.”
“Mmmmmmmm okay. Let me know if you need a break. I love you.”
Samira smiles gently. “I love you.”
Jack sits across from her, taking off his prosthetic. “Fuck,” he says quietly, throwing his head back and wincing.
Samira looks at him concerned. “Are you okay?”
Jack inhales deeply. “Yeah. Been walking on this thing for so long it fucking hurts.”
Samira isn’t tired, but she knows Jack is. If she asks for an on-call room, Jack would most likely come with her. She hates seeing him in pain, and if she has to lay down on a shitty brick mattress until they get off shift so be it. As long as he isn’t in pain.
“I lied,” Samira starts saying. Jack looks up at her confused. “I do want to sleep.”
“On-call room, then?” Jack says.
She nods. Jack puts his prosthetic leg back on.
“Okay, let’s go.”
The room is barely bigger than a supply closet. There’s multiple beds lined up against both walls, and Samira decides to take the bed farthest from the door and closest to the wall. Jack claims the bed next to her. The beds look like they were designed for small children, and when they sit down they immediately regret it.
“This ‘mattress’ is literally a piece of paper.” Samira laughs. She kicks off her shoes, laying on her back. The mattress squeaks the whole time.
Jack laughs softly. He takes off his prosthetic once again, laying on his back as well, but turns to his side to be able to look at Samira. She’s breathing slowly and deeply, looking up at the ceiling.
She turns to face him as well, and they stare at each other for what seems like an eternity.
“Hi,” Samira says.
“Hi,” Jack replies back. “You’re gorgeous.”
“Say that when I actually look good.”
“You always look good, baby.”
A minute passes. Neither of them say anything. It’s a calm, relaxing silence.
Samira breaks the quiet. “Thank you for taking care of me.”
“Always, honey.”
They smile at each other. A warm, genuine smile that sends electricity through Jack’s body.
And they fell asleep just like that.
—
Around 2 pm, Robby walked into the room where Samira and Jack were sleeping peacefully.
“Wakey wakey,” Robby said, basically shaking Jack.
“Jesus, Robby.” He responded, half asleep. Samira repositioned herself to sit on the bed. She slept maybe 10 minutes, scrolling on Tiktok or watching Jack’s breathing the rest of the time until Robby entered the room.
“You guys gotta get out of here. Day shift’s here and the roads are shoveled–go home. Glad you two slept in different beds. That would’ve been a hell of an HR report.”
“Shut up, dude.” Jack laughs.
“Never, brother. It’s still snowing by the way. You might want to leave now before the roads get bad again.”
Jack nods and heads for the door, patting Robby on the back. “Thanks,” he says, walking out of the room, Samira following closely behind him.
Samira and Jack walk to their lockers, gathering their things quickly. They walk outside, and while it’s still snowing heavily, the roads are clear—for the moment. Their fingers are laced together.
“Can we go to your house?” Samira says.
“Yeah, of course. I’m taking you though, there is no way in hell you’re driving in this storm. Your tires are fucked.”
“They’re so expensive to replace. I don’t feel any shame. I drive fine in the summer anyways.”
“Because they’re important, sweetheart.” Jack is already planning on a way to replace her tires for her.
“Whatever.”
They both climb into Jack’s 2022 Chevy Silverado. As Jack drives back to his house, Samira looks out the window. The snow looks magical, and she relaxes in the warm seat.
—
When they arrive at Jack's house, he makes his way to the passenger side of his truck, carefully helping Samira out. She basically runs inside, throwing her bag to the side.
Jack’s house isn’t perfectly neat, but it isn’t messy. It looks well lived in, a sense of belonging that her minimalist childhood home lacked. She recognized the lingering scent of mahogany coconut, most likely from one of the dozens of candles Jack owns. Several bookshelves are placed near the TV, filled to the brim with books. Jack loves to read. The living room is well lit, with a warm orange glow washing over it–thanks to the tall, gold lamp in the corner. The inside of Jack’s house is completely different from the mountains of perfect white snow outside. Jack has multiple plants spewed throughout the house as well, even in the kitchen, and the couch is wide, beige, and extremely soft. Samira loves his couch, she thinks, plopping down on it–covering her face with her hand. “God, I am so tired.”
Jack follows and sits on the couch next to her. “Are you hungry? I could cook breakfast.”
Samira laughs. “Technically it’s lunch.”
“Are you questioning my eating habits?” Jack says, pretending to be deeply offended. He scoots closer to her.
Samira smiles mischievously. “Maybe.”
“Wow, Dr. Mohan,” He grabs her wrists, pinning her on the couch. He’s on top of her now. He kisses her softly and Samira giggles, turning the kissing passionate and rough. Samira bites his lip and he makes a sound halfway between a grunt and a moan.
“Fuck, Samira,”
Letting go of her wrists, Jack slides his hand under her neck, grabbing her hair. The other hand goes under her shirt, heat flushing her face. He kisses her harder, moving down to her neck. Between kisses, they undress each other, articles of clothing flying throughout the living room.
—
Jack works his magic in the kitchen. He’s an exceptionally good cook, and the scent of the breakfast he’s making wafts throughout the house. Samira has just gotten out of the shower, and her stomach growls as she styles her hair with some of Jack’s curl cream–dressed in only a towel. She quickly comes to the realization that she doesn’t have any clothes to change into. She was fully expecting to be able to go home, but she didn't mind, simply taking one of Jack’s Carhartt hoodies instead, and wrapping one of his shirts around her hair as a makeshift bonnet.
She walks into the kitchen and sits at the island, watching Jack move around the kitchen swiftly.
“Is that my hoodie?” Jack suddenly says, examining her from head to toe. “And my shirt?”
“I didn’t bring any clothes.”
“You didn’t have to wear any, ya know.”
Samira laughs. “Jesus, you’re such a freak.”
“You love me,” Jack shoots back. “I made pancakes. You want?”
“Duh.”
“Butter? Syrup? Fruit?”
“All of the above, pleaseeee” Samira smiles wide.
Jack lets out a soft laugh. “There’s bacon as well, if you want some.”
“I’m good. Thank you, baby.”
“Mhm,” Jack sets the plate in front of Samira and leans over to give her a kiss, planting himself at the stool next to her.
They eat in silence, Samira scrolling on Tiktok while Jack reads a book. The snow is still falling outside. After they’re finished eating, Samira washes dishes. Jack looks out the window.
“The snow is real bad.” He looks back at Samira, who’s drying off her hands.
“Really? How bad?” she questions.
“Looking like we’re gonna be snowed in tomorrow.”
“God, I hope. I’m not scheduled for tomorrow but I know Robby’s going to call me in.”
“He won’t. I already told him you don’t even have your car.”
“Oh,” Samira walks over to where he’s standing. “Thank you,” she says as she plants a kiss onto his lips.
“Anytime, honey.”
Jack sits on the couch, taking off his prosthetic as Samira sits on the opposite side, legs stretched out, wrapped in a blanket she got from Jack’s room. She commands his Google home to play “Love Is Only a Feeling” by Joey Bada$$ – one of her absolute favorite songs.
Jack leans over and reaches for the coffee table’s drawer. He pulls out an air-tight mason jar filled with weed along with a grinder. Marijuana is illegal in Pennsylvania, but he obtained a medical marijuana card for the pain in his stump. When up and active for a prolonged period of time, like when he has a shift, the prosthetic becomes uncomfortable and even causes pain to his stump, causing it to become sore or even swollen. The pain becomes even worse when he doesn’t take breaks, which he never does. The weed helps.
“Want?” he asks Samira as he grinds up the flower.
“Yeah, sure,” Samira rarely smokes, only with Jack, since he’s the only person she knows who can possess marijuana legally, and she’s not willing to go to jail for possessing weed.
Jack rolls up a joint with the same precision he uses with patients. Meticulously, he lines up the grinded up flower onto the paper and rolls it tightly. Samira grabs a lighter off of the table and tosses it to Jack, who lights up the cannabis cigarette, taking a long, deep hit and sucking it through his teeth. He hands the joint to Samira, who does the same. They pass the joint until only the roach is left over. Jack tosses it into the ashtray placed carefully on the table.
Samira feels like she’s floating, her whole body heavy. She leans her head back over the arm rests on the couch, taking in the music and the scent of vanilla bourbon–the candle Jack lit before smoking. While Jack sits in front of her, reading a book calmly, her mind is racing. Not necessarily with bad thoughts, just thinking about the environment around her, the snow falling heavily outside, and the amazing man in front of her.
She leans her head back and stares at Jack. He peeks around his book.
“What?” he asks, lowering his reading glasses to get a better look at Samira.
“I love you,” she says, sincerely, with all of her heart.
Jack meets her gaze, steady and full of love. “I love you too, honey. More than you’ll ever know.”