Chapter Text
You gotta suspend all knowledge of anything outside of the characters for this fic I won't lie
Post-Pittfest, in the shadow of Bobby Nash’s death, the 118 keeps moving—calls, chaos, routine—but nothing feels the same. Most of the patients end up at the Pitt.
It’s where the lines start to blur.
You’re a paramedic with the 118. Mid-20s. Joined in 2021. Inked, pierced, sharp-tongued. You handle pressure with steady hands and sarcasm that lands just shy of trouble.
Around the station, you’re “Sweets”—a nickname Eddie Diaz gave you, somewhere between a joke and something softer.
At the Pitt, you’re something else entirely: familiar, reliable… and just unpredictable enough to keep people on edge.
Dr. Jack Abbot is fifty, experienced, and entirely too perceptive for his own good. He’s built a life on distance—on reading people without getting pulled into them. He notices patterns. He notices shifts.
Lately, he’s noticed you.
You don’t fit. Not into anything neat or explainable. There’s something unfiltered about you, something unafraid. The steady hands, the offhand sarcasm—it doesn’t match the weight you carry, not in any way he understands.
You don’t carry grief like a burden.
More like something you’ve already made a private agreement with.
And that—more than anything—gets under his skin.
Buck has always been your person—best friend, unofficial older brother, the one who has your back before you even realise you need it. He trusts you. Your instincts, your decisions. He’s never had a reason not to.
But this?
This makes him uneasy.
It’s not about control, or thinking you can’t handle yourself. It’s the way Abbot looks at you—too aware, too deliberate. Like every step is measured. Like he already knows exactly what he’s doing.
Maybe Buck’s wrong.
Maybe he’s reading into something that isn’t there.
But he’s seen people get hurt before. Seen things go sideways when no one expected it.
And he’s not about to let that happen to you.
Outside of work, your life is just as tangled. You share an apartment with Samira Mohan and Victoria Javadi—three women who’ve seen each other at their worst and stayed anyway. It’s loud, chaotic, and the closest thing to stable you’ve got.
But at the Pitt—between ambulance doors and hospital corridors—something shifts.
Something quieter. Heavier.
Not inappropriate. Not reckless.
Just… inevitable.
And somewhere between Buck’s watchful eye and Jack’s careful restraint, you find yourself caught in something that was never meant to happen—
but doesn’t seem to stop anyway.