Work Text:
Jack was having a shitty shift. Actually, he'd been having a terrible shift since yesterday morning. Dr. Al-Hashimi was on vacation this week, so he stupidly agreed to pick up dayshift. The patients were cantankerous. The admin, whom he normally dodged in the dark of night, were overbearing. The daylight was burning his retinas.
He was practically vibrating with excitement when 7 p.m. closed in.
He should've left earlier.
Gloria caught him as he was putting away his stethoscope. "Jack, we could really use help. Don't do it for me, do it for the residents and medical students." She patronized him just slightly.
He pulled out his stethoscope.
Night shift, his normal safe space, was weirder and wilder than ever before. The universe had a funny way of sensing when he was weak. It was nearly 2 a.m. when someone tried to bite Jack. It was 4 a.m. when someone actually succeeded.
"Occupational Health hasn't heard from you in a while, boss." Mateo stood close by with his phlebotomy kit.
"Just poke and pray." Jack held out his arm and waited for Mateo to finish his post-exposure lab draw.
Dana walked in just before 7 a.m., taking in Jack's haggard state.
"Dr. Abbot, I didn't know you were working last night." She waited an extended amount of time before Jack acknowledged her.
"I want to go home."
"Then go, we got this." She gave him a playful nudge. She helped pack his backpack for him after he made no move to stand.
Jack startled.
He had fallen asleep in his driveway, his truck still purring quietly. He killed the ignition and sighed. He didn't even remember the drive home, which was concerning in and of itself.
He practically poured himself out of the truck and onto the driveway. He fumbled with the front door. His house key wasn't on the key chain attached to his backpack.
He knelt down and grabbed the horrendously ugly frog statue Robby had bought at a farmer's market several years ago. Jack shook it, until the spare key landed neatly in his hand. He dropped the frog to the ground.
He took his shoes off in the doorway, and threw his backpack in the corner. He took his dirty Tupperware and put it in the dishwasher, before starting a new load. He stripped out of his scrubs and tossed them into the hamper.
Robby was sleeping soundly, rolled over on his side away from the door. Jack's blackout curtains did a great job of keeping the light out.
Jack pushed his way into the en-suite bathroom, washed his face, and brushed his teeth. The bathroom lighting only highlighted his exhaustion. How he'd ever managed to romance anyone baffled him.
Jack collapsed into bed, Robby's body perfectly leaving space for Jack's. Robby's arm immediately found him, dragging him in closer. The slotted together perfectly, melding into one being.
Jack looked up at the ceiling for a couple of blinks before sleep overtook him completely. He could finally rest.
˗ˏˋ☕ˎˊ˗
Jack buried himself deeper into the covers. The incessant poking didn't stop, however.
"Hey, sleepyhead, wake up."
A hand came to pull at Jack's shoulder. Robby's hand. Robby, his ex-husband. Jack unfurled himself cautiously and tentatively looked around.
"Are you okay?" He looked worried. Robby looked worried. Robby, who he was separated from and living away from.
"R-Robby?" An intense blush crawled up Jack's neck and cheeks. "I-I-I don't know wh—"
"You don't know how you drove here after working for thirty straight hours, broke my favorite frog pot for the spare key, made yourself at home, and crawled into bed with me?"
Robby had a barely contained smirk. Jack folded forward, hiding his face in his hands.
"It's okay," Robby gave him a lopsided grin, “honestly, I'm flattered."
Jack pushed himself upright until he was sitting against the headboard. Despite having been married for seven years and separated for six months, Jack felt shy. He pulled the duvet up a little higher.
The blackout curtains had been pushed aside, casting the room in warm light. The dresser they'd haggled over on Facebook Marketplace sat tucked into the corner. Jack missed waking up in this place.
"Tough shift?"
Robby stood and stretched, his naked back to Jack.
"Umm, I guess...? I'm not usually so affected by the long shifts." Jack followed Robby to the kitchen. He knew this place like home.
It used to be his home.
Robby started the ridiculously expensive coffee maker John had bought them as a wedding gift. He was a self-proclaimed coffee connoisseur who insisted nothing could compare to Dunkin'.
"It's okay. You've been stressed the last couple of months."
Robby purposefully stood away from Jack, the kitchen island acting as a safety barrier between the two of them.
Yeah, Jack had been stressed. He had to figure out a place to stay, find a divorce lawyer, and tell his parents.
It sucked.
Robby pulled two mugs from the cabinet.
˗ˏˋ☕ˎˊ˗
“Do you want to talk about it?” Robby sipped his coffee, eyes meeting Jack’s over the rim of the mug.
“Not really.” Jack drank his own coffee, Robby had made it just the way he liked it. They were sitting on the couch, lots of space in between them.
“You were so tired this morning, didn’t even flinch when I turned the light on at 9 a.m.,” Robby settled back against the couch. “I expected you to stir when I took your leg off.”
Jack turned his leg, experimentally, the prosthetic was comfortably attached. Robby must have cleaned it for him as well.
“I…I really didn’t mean to. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”
Robby pursed his lips considering what Jack said. He learned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
“You didn’t make me uncomfortable,” Jack still wouldn’t make eye contact, “if anything I felt at peace.”
Jack harrumphed at that. He looked around the living room, without Jack’s stuff, it looked empty. His bookcase with all of his war memories and army regalia was tucked away in his apartment. It didn’t quite fit in the guest bedroom he was using as a pseudo office. When it was in their home, it fit snugly in the living room corner, perfectly aligned with the wall.
Jack suddenly stood. He slightly limped to the kitchen, opening the junk drawer. He rifled around until he found the super glue. Jack took the broken pieces of the frog pot and started to meticulously line it up. Robby came up behind him, his hand gently prying the glue away.
“I’m worried, Jack. They say driving tired is just as dangerous as driving drunk.” Robby murmured into Jack’s ear. “Leave the frog.”
He took him by the elbow and guided him to the bedroom.
“Just lay down. I’ll be here when you wake up.” Robby pushed Jack down, both hands on either of his shoulders. Jack’s sleepy protests fell on deaf ears as he watched Robby draw the curtains closed. He was going to make another attempt at getting up when he was overtaken by how comfortable their bed was. Their bed, they used to share it.
Jack laid back, digging deeper underneath the covers. He remembered the first time he slept over Robby’s house, complaining the mattress at the time was too soft. Robby had teased him that it was only because Jack was used to army floors and cold grounds as his mattresses. Regardless, once Jack had fully moved in, Robby took him mattress shopping. At the time they had joked it was a housewarming gift.
Jack’s eyes fluttered shut. Whatever fight he made at staying awake, he’d finally given up the white flag. Robby watched carefully perched from the armchair in the corner, his kindle on his lap, and his coffee now cold.
˗ˏˋ☕ˎˊ˗
For the second time in a row, Jack was softly woken up by Robby. He blearily rubbed at his eyes, looking at his watch for the time. It was 7 p.m., he had slept the entire day. Not to mention he was late for work.
Shit.
Jack scrambled for his pants, for his phone, for his leg. Robby’s arm came up to stop him, Jack having momentarily forgotten he was there.
“Relax, Dr. Abbot, you called out.”
“What? Why didn’t you wake me?” He huffed in annoyance.
“You needed the sleep. Come to the kitchen, I made pasta.”
Jack didn’t follow him. He was suddenly overwhelmed by embarrassment. He didn’t appreciate being coddled. Especially not from his soon-to-be ex-husband.
“I’m going to head out.” He stood, pulling on his shoes.
“Really? You don’t want to stay for dinner?” Robby leaned against the doorway.
“No. I made a mistake and now I’m overstaying my welcome.”
“This is your house.”
A beat of silence.
“This was your house, and then our house, and now it’s yours again. I’m a guest.” Jack ran his hand through his hair. His wedding ring got caught only briefly in his curls. Robby noticed.
“I think we should talk about you coming here after a bad shift, maybe it means something.” Robby closed the gap between them for the first time since they had woken up together.
“It doesn’t mean anything. It was a mistake. A habit.” Jack twisted his ring nervously on his finger, his eyes not quite meeting Robby’s.
“I missed you,” Robby was close enough, Jack could smell his shampoo, his cologne, his aftershave.
Robby’s hands hovered just barely gracing Jack’s sides. Jack swallowed.
“You missed the thought of me, you don’t actually miss being together.” Jack took a step back.
“What are you saying,” Robby sounded wounded, “you don’t miss me?” Jack paused, he looked into Robby’s eyes. They were glistening.
“No, of course I miss you. But I should miss you. You’re perfect. And I don’t even mean in the stupid way. Y-you work so hard but you always have time for everything. For work, for Jake, for the residents and students at the Pitt, for me. How could you possibly miss me?” Jack started to walk out the bedroom and towards the kitchen.
“I mean, fuck Robby, I’m running on fumes. I work the night shift, I pull doubles, I do that SWAT medic stuff on the side. I-I could never be half the person you deserve.”
“Stop, just stop.” Robby pulled at Jack’s arm. He was huffing. His nose flared. He was staring down his nose into Jack’s eyes.
“How dare you? How dare you think you can decide what I deserve?” Robby’s face was inches from Jack’s.
“Is that what this is about? You think you’re saving me from you? Here’s an idea, Abbot. I fucking love you. I love you so much. I fell in love with you when I knew you worked night shifts, and listened to police scanners, and picked up SWAT gigs. I married that guy.”
Robby took in a deep breath, his face turning red with frustration. Jack went to say something but Robby wasn’t finished.
“I married you knowing all of that because I love you. So you want to play the field? Sure. You want to go on some mid-life crisis spree? Fine. But don’t stand there and tell me I don’t miss my husband.”
Jack swallowed. He nodded silently in agreement. His eyes fell to where Robby’s hand was gripping his arm. Robby let go.
Jack turned to the kitchen island, the pieces of the frog shoddily glued together.
“I hate that fucking frog.”
Robby laughed and pulled Jack back into his arms, kissing the top of his head.