Work Text:
a drug-deranged patient has a sudden outburst and nearly breaks your arm trying to escape the medication
he twists your arm and you swear you hear your shoulder pop
dr robby seeing it happen immediately, swearing loudly and tackling the patient away from you
you stumble backwards, bumping into the others, unable to hold back tears
whitaker steadies you while nearly tumbling over himself. he’s trying to comfort you as best as possible, but you’re clearly injured
dr abbot hears the commotion and runs over just as robby sedates the patient, bringing everything back to the usual “calm” of the ER, which is never calm
he sees you cradling your arm and immediately rushes to your side, removing your hand carefully from holding your shoulder
you cry out in pain as he rotates your arm then with a sickening lurch, fixes your shoulder back into place
you can’t believe that it was actually dislocated, but tears stream down your face now, although the pain is diminishing. it’s the shock that’s setting in now
dr abbot steers you toward a quieter corner, keeping one arm steady around your waist whispering in your ear, “hey its okay, it’s okay”
he guides you to a chair and sets you down, crouching down to be at your eye level. “you good?” you nod and he rests a hand on your knee
“take it easy, let’s get you home”
“home?”
“my shift is almost up. i’ll drive you, you shouldn’t be driving. you’ll need to ice your shoulder, but-” he smooths his hand over your scrubs over your arm, and you wince, but there’s no sharp pain “you don’t need any procedures. just rest.”
“but-”
“no buts. let’s go.”
he rises to his feet and says something to collins, probably letting her know his plan to take you home
except you’re now in dr abbot’s car, and not heading in the direction of your home
“where are we going” you shift the ice pack he grabbed for you on the way out the door
“home”
you turn your head to look at him but his eyes remain on the road
“don’t fight it kid. i’m gonna make sure you’re comfortable. i’ve had my share of dislocated and broken appendages… and more”
you hum and face the front of the car now, watching as streetlights blur past
his apartment is nice. you’re almost grateful he didn’t drop you off at yours cause you’re certain the kitchen is a mess and you haven’t put away your shoes in a few weeks. you never expect guests
the ceilings are vaulted, dim lights illuminate the hallway and he immediately stoops down once you enter his place
“what are you-”
he’s untying your laces. slipping each shoe off
“sorry,” you mumble, face flushed in embarrassment. “you don’t have to do everything for me, i still have a good arm”
he rises, still close to you in the tight entryway, peering down at you with a curious smile. “don’t be sorry.”
you follow him timidly as he walks in. he asks for your ice pack, and heads to the freezer to pop it in.
“i have another ice pack, but if you want to take a shower, you should do it now before you get tired.”
right
shower
at dr jack abbots apartment
admittedly you imagined coming here on different terms
not because you had injured himself but maybe because in some crazy scenario he’d invite you over
for wine
for dinner
to watch a movie
anything but this
“hey, you good?”
you nod. “where’s the shower?”
he points to another hallway and you walk away, past his bedroom till you’re at the shower
it hurts to take off your clothes but you manage to get them off without dislocating your shoulder again
the warm water feels nice and you take note of his choice of shampoo and body wash
you open a bottle and it smells just like him
clean, a little woodsy
you use some of the soap and place it back on the shelf
… it’s been a day. night. a long shift
trying not to indulge too much on dr abbots hospitality and gas bill you turn off the water
after wrapping yourself in a towel that was placed right outside the curtain, he must have put it there while you were under the stream of water
abbot waits, sitting on the end of the bed, waiting for you
“feel better?”
“yup” you chirp
you clutch the towel around your torso tighter, becoming aware that you could be moments away from flashing him
which is not how you should treat your host
he pushes off the bed and rises to his feet. he holds an oversized t shirt in one hand
“i’m sorry i didn’t help you with your scrubs. it was probably hard to get them off”
you stammer before getting the next words out, “i- i didn’t think you needed to help me, ya know, undressing me”
he scoffs with a smile
“it’s not like i haven’t seen someone naked before. i’m a doctor”
“i know i know its just-”
“don’t worry,” he cuts you off, bunching the t shirt up in his hands
he silently offers you the open neck, inviting you to lean forward so he can pull it over your head
abbot stretches the material to allow you to slip one arm, the other arm, through the sleeves
you wince as he holds your hand, pulling the injured arm through
“sorry”
“it’s fine. stupid patient”
he chuckles, “you’re tough”
the shirt falls past your hips, hem resting mid thigh. you let the towel slip down
abbot reaches for it and folds it over his arm
“i made some food” he says pointing to the kitchen
“you did?” eyes darting to the towel then back up at him
“well, but making food i mean takeout. hope that’s okay with you”
you shake your head, trying to fight the grin creeping up to your face
“you didn’t have to”
“you’re not hungry?”
“dr abbot, i- seriously, i’m embarrassed i’m even here,” you wave your hand outward “i got injured at work and i can take care of myself and now you’re getting me dinner?”
he crosses his arms across his broad chest
you’re just registering now that he’s changed into grey sweatpants and a navy blue tee that looks like it’s been in the wash hundreds of times
soft fabric, like the shirt that he lent to you
his shirt
smells like detergent and a hint of his own sweat that’s permeated the fibers
wearing nothing underneath but that’s besides the point
at least he didn’t undress you before the shower
you’re certain that you’d be redder than a tomato, his large, calloused hands, unbuttoning your scrubs, fingertips brushing past your exposed skin
he tilts his head forward, snapping you out of your thoughts
“hey, don’t flatter yourself. i was hungry too. come on, lets go”
you follow him down to the kitchen
“sit”
you obey, following his pointed finger to the sofa in front of the tv
forcing yourself to stay upright in the sinking cushions
he comes around with chopsticks and two white boxes
“oh that smells amazing”
“and tastes” he says, not wasting a second shoveling chow mein into his mouth
he sits next to you, facing the tv like you are, side by side
it’s a moment of silence save the sound of yours and his chewing
you’re hyper aware of the minimal amount of space he opted for
hey you sat down first
and he sat down just an inch away from your legs
it’s… peaceful
abbot sets down his box and chopsticks on the ground
he stands and circles the couch
you watch him, craning your neck to keep your eyes trained on him
“what are you-”
he places both hands on your neck
they’re warm and firm, but not pressing down too hard
he starts rubbing circles, starting with where the base of your skull meets your neck
slow
tedious
your eyes flutter shut
he’s good at this
“that feels….”
you can’t even finish your words
“your left side is tense, compensating for the injury, just making sure that you don’t hurt the other side”
his hands move down to your traps, and his hands are featherlight now on the strained side
“why are you doing this?” you manage to get out without moaning
hah
this was not on your bingo card for tonight
no, you were planning on finishing that tv series alone at your apartment
those plans dissolved the minute that patient leaped forward
and somehow, you’re grateful for the attack
you wouldn’t have ended up here, under dr abbots steady hands
wearing his shirt
after taking a shower in his apartment
eating the food he ordered for you
“well i don’t want someone else to cover your shift, you need all the experience you can get”
you sigh, “no really, why are you doing this”
he’s silent, working a tough knot in your back.
“because i can”
he hums, as if the answer becomes more clear now that he’s speaking
“because i want to.”
“oh.”
he pushes on a tender spot and you hiss, but breathe out when he massages the pain away
“you’re tough. i like that. but it’s not fun dealing with things on your own. i like to help others”
he removes his palms then threads his hands up through your hair. a sigh elicits through your lips as he moves his fingers up through your scalp
“you deserve this”
he begins to gently comb though your hair, untangling it delicately
you don’t know what to say honestly. you don’t deserve this but you’re not going to complain or fight it
“i could fall asleep right now” you settle on that
“go ahead.”