Work Text:
Mel was apparently oblivious to what she did to Jack as she moved through the hospital doing her job. Sometimes she’d smile at him after a difficult case. Sometimes just existing was enough to put him in a better mood or make his heart flutter. Sometimes it was a glance across the room, sometimes a question or two that proved her sharp mind was at work, sometimes it could be the way she worked with a patient. Regardless, just having her around was a torment and a blessing. Her blonde hair was always locked in that braid and tortured him almost as much as her light brown eyes behind those lenses of hers. He wanted to see her hair down and her glasses off; he'd give his other leg to see her at home in her own environment.
It had been a year since she started working here and it had been a rough one for him, fighting off the growing attraction that turned into something far more drastic, far more serious than anything he'd faced in recent years. Something that would have him coughing up full handfuls of small red petals all day after hand-off. They were soft, fluttery-looking petals but Jack was a doctor, not a botanist, so he brought them to a friend; a friend who eventually managed to identify them as a camellia plant, varietal unspecified. He'd known the prognosis and diagnosis the second the first petals had appeared, just a few at a time at first and then gradually more and more as he tried to pretend this wasn't happening.
He knew every case of this disease was different and that not every flower was connected to their meanings, and he also knew that his flowers always had been. Camellias could mean many things; the answers all depended on who you asked, what reference you used, what culture you based it on, what color they were, or even just how you worded your Google search. His Google search? Enduring Devotion. Longing and desire.
It didn’t tell him anything new. Jack already knew where he stood on his side of the fucking plant. The doctor was aware of what was wrong with him, what this meant, but he needed Robby’s opinion to make it real. The attending was afraid. Not quite afraid; he was terrified. He was doomed unless he told Mel how he felt. Abbot was actually prone to this, it had happened twice before. This was the third case and he was sick of it. The first case had been in high school, that had required surgery; the second case had been his wife, she had loved him back and it had disappeared as mysteriously as it had shown up. The third case? The third case was Melissa King.
His resident (even if she was a day shift), the sharpest, kindest woman he knew. A woman he could idolize, appreciate, and just marvel at his luck that he simply existed in the same moment in time that she did. Jack thanked the stars that he had the experience of meeting her, even falling for her, even as unrequited as it was. He’d watched her over the last year turn into an incredible doctor and that had only deepened his feelings for her. She was really all he could ask for. Honestly? Jack had never thought he'd fall in love again, not after losing his wife and how damn traumatic that had been for him. But something had changed when Mel entered the equation.
Now he was coughing up bloody petals all because of a woman at least twenty years his junior. He wondered, idly, while staring at the bloody reds, where it had taken root. The last two times it had been in his lungs and his decisions had to be made quickly. This time it might be his heart which could possibly give him a little more time. Not much, maybe another week or two at the maximum as the roots wound their way around his heart before they invaded the tissue. Jack was having a hell of a time with solid foods and he wondered if the plant was invading his esophagus or pressing on something it shouldn’t be, combined with a feeling of mild pressure in his chest and throat.
His unrequited feelings were literally murdering him, starving him day by day. He, Jack Abbot, was dying slowly; perishing one day at a time all because he loved a woman. He still had time. It was just petals for now. Eventually they would be full flowers taking root in his body and executing him and suffocation or starvation felt like a shitty choice to him. Surgery would require the total death of his emotions for her and he wasn't ready to face that; the doctor just wasn't okay with letting her go yet. Jack might as well take his chances with her first because while the surgery was always there, this was Mel; the most compassionate person he'd ever met, the one with a beautifully sharp mind to go with that equally beautiful face of hers. Abbot didn’t want to give her up but he didn’t want to die, either, and that meant having one of the most uncomfortable conversations of his life. But first, well, he had to talk to Robby. He needed to know if it was in his lungs or his heart. Jack had an inkling but he needed to be sure.
—
“Yup, it’s Hanahaki for sure, Jack.” Robby was staring at this CT of his best friend’s chest and abdomen before examining the petals Jack had been coughing up all day.
“Well yeah, I got that part. Can I breathe for a while or do I suffocate quickly?” Either way he would need to talk to Mel but if it was his heart he had a little time. He was already struggling to eat solid food; he could do protein shakes for a little while until the roots really started grabbing at not only his heart tissue but the tissue around it as well and growing explosively along with his emotions.
“It's wrapping mostly around your heart but yeah, it’s creeping into your esophagus a ways down, and pressing against the diaphragm. That’s probably why you can’t eat, there's what looks to be some sort of a root ball right on your stomach and liver. You should take some time off, Jack.” Robby looked at him. “That’s my official opinion as your friend and your Chief. I can’t have you coughing these up in a trauma, it breaks the sterile field and takes time away from the patient.” The man shook his head. “I won’t lecture you. You know what you gotta do. If you need it I can refer you upstairs to surgery. I’m sure we have a specialist somewhere in here and I’ll be with you every step of the way.”
“I’m not ready for that yet.” Jack shook his head at his friend's glance and sigh. “I’ll take the time off but I need her phone number, Robby. I can’t have this conversation here and I gotta talk to her before I do something drastic.” As if choosing life was a drastic solution.
The Chief hesitated. “You know I’m not supposed to do that.”
“I’m dying, Robby." He said with emphasis. "Give me the damn number before this thing fucking kills me.” Jack snapped at his friend; this was almost too much to bear. The man knew this conversation was a requirement for his survival and while there was no way that she would ever be interested in him, he still had to try. He wasn’t ready to literally cut her out of his life. It had been such a subtle falling that he hadn’t seen it at first; now he noticed her every time she walked into the room. He got tongue-tied talking to her outside of work conversations. There were butterflies, or more accurately flower roots, every time she looked at him. When she spoke to him the rest of the room faded away as long as they had the time. He treasured the moments they got together, the times he was able to teach her things. Abbot often wished they overlapped more than they did, or that she was one of his, a proper Nightcrawler. In the end it didn’t matter; he’d fallen in love with her anyway. He wanted to protect her when her hands began rubbing over her arms. He wanted to walk her to her car every night and kiss her goodbye, he wanted her with him all the time. Hell, Jack just wanted her. He was pining after her and had been for a year.
Mel was the perfect woman. Gorgeous even if she didn’t want to see it; smart as a whip, clever, and who had more kindness and compassion in her little toe than Jack had in his entire body. He’d been in love with her for a year and it was only becoming more intense by the day. Jack had always known he was in danger of a new case (was relapse the word he needed when all the plants had been different?) with how just intense his feelings were. He hadn’t expected it so soon but she was the first thing he thought of in the night and his last thought of in the morning. He was haunted by her. Jack shouldn’t have been surprised when he'd had a random coughing fit one day and found a flower petal in his palm.
Robby pulled out his phone. “You should have this conversation face to face.”
“I’ll try.” Jack shrugged. “You know how this place is, it’s impossible to get away. I'll come back if I have to but it's not exactly my ideal location, either.” The attending copied Mel’s number. “I’ll take the time off, Robby. I need a month. Either I’ll be fine or I’ll be dead and you’re planning my funeral. Either way I won’t be a problem anymore.” Jack lightly rubbed a hand over his heart, hating the fact that he was so in love with a girl that it was killing him.
Jack had another coughing fit, this one bloodier than all the ones before; this time it was the full round, fluffy petaled head of the flower broken up into pieces with the yellow stamens attached; a dramatic escalation from just the petals. He was rapidly running out of time.
—
Mel noticed Jack had been missing for weeks now and it hurt. She rarely saw him as it was and yet she’d still fallen for him somehow. Jack was a man who could be twice her age, who had more experience than it felt like she would ever get, and who had already been married and had an entire life. Yet somehow she had fallen hard and it might well be a secret she took to the grave. Her friends would make fun of her and if Abbot ever found out she'd be mortified and she'd never be able to look him in the eyes again.
He was spikey, yes, but not to her. He was abrupt, yes, but not so much with her. Jack treated her softly during the time they had together. He complimented her work after the hardest traumas when the doubt crept in, and his comments and compliments left her glowing and confident for the rest of her shift. When they had the time he helped talk her through the patients they couldn’t save on the cases that overlapped or if she was hiding in the ambulance bay to recover when he left. Jack was one of the most handsome men Mel had ever met and she wanted to run her fingers through his unruly grey curls on a regular basis. She often wondered what kissing him would be like. What other things with him might be like, what he could feel like under her hands. What she would feel like under his.
Jack was so incredibly smart that it felt like she learned something just by being in the same room with him. Mel knew what it was like to have his hands on hers as he guided a procedure, his steady voice in her ear telling her what to do next as if she was absolutely capable of whatever it was that she was doing or trying; even if she’d never done it before. He consistently had faith in her talents but was always ready and willing to step in and catch her if she fell. He always found a moment for her on the occasions she needed to ask him something. He took the time to answer her questions even if he didn't have to. But there was no way he’d ever be interested in her outside of work, at least that’s what Mel thought until a text message from the man came in.
The resident was walking from her car to her apartment on a warm spring night and she paused, leaning against the wall of her building to read what had just come in on her phone. How Abbot had gotten her number was a mystery but it didn't stop her heart from exploding out of her chest with panic.
It’s Jack Abbot. I need to talk to you.
It was followed quickly by another line of text. There wasn't a doubt that the text was for her anymore.
Could you come over, Mel? Please? It’s serious.
Good God, what did she say to that? Jack had mentioned her by name and he apparently needed to talk to her of all people, and he sounded desperate even through a text message. Whatever it was, was it really serious enough to say please? The man had been missing for weeks and then suddenly popped up with what seemed like an urgent issue with no notice. There had been no mention of how he’d gotten her number so it must have been from Robby, her friends would have mentioned if he'd asked. Jack sounded distraught.
Sure, what’s your address? I can come over now if you need me to
I think that’s best. We need to talk.
Those four words filled her with dread. He needed to talk to her, not wanted. There must be something wrong, something she could help him with but she had no idea what it was. Mel wouldn't let the man struggle alone if he was asking for help. Surely she could keep her feelings stuffed deep down inside until it was over. She’d successfully done it so far; nobody had guessed she had fallen so hard for a man she had rarely spoken to.
—
Jack couldn’t believe how easy that had been, but he shouldn’t have been surprised. Mel wasn't the kind of woman to let someone be in agony if she could help it and she was on her way over right now. The man’s house was a mess with piles of bloody flower petals and chunks of flower heads and glasses, Soylent protein shakes bottles, and liquor bottles littering every surface. Abbot didn’t even care; right now he was hacking up another flower, one with a second bud and a stem and a small set of leaves included.
No roots yet.
Thank God.
The man had lost an incredible amount of weight over the last two weeks and it was weight he couldn’t afford to lose. His muscles were wasting away on him and he couldn't afford to burn the calories to keep himself intact, it was all he could do to hold on as it was. Jack was a shadow of the man he’d been and he just hoped it could be enough for her.
This? This was his Hail Mary pass. This was his shot in the dark, the last chance he had before dealing with the possibility of a surgery that would remove everything he felt for her, assuming he even wanted the damn thing. He didn't know anymore. Jack didn't know what he wanted and the longer he waited the stronger the odds were of him dying on the table. He wasn't sure he cared if he survived.
There was a knock on his door and he went to let her in.
—
Jack looked terrible. The man looked a ghost of himself. He looked like he hadn’t slept, hadn’t eaten, or taken care of himself at all in the last two weeks. He'd lost weight, lost muscle, and his beard had grown out. Mel tried to keep the shock off her face and failed even as she stepped inside. The place was a mess. Most concerning were what looked like withered flowers and petals on surfaces and piles on the floor. There were bottles all over the place and every single one was a meal replacement protein shake or alcohol. No water in the glasses, no sodas, no electrolytes; just protein and alcohol.
“Doctor Abbot...are you alright?” The resident wasn’t sure where to go from there so she just stood by the door, waiting with wide eyes until he directed her to the couch.
“Jack, Mel. Please. Given what I need to say it's just Jack, now.” Oh God he could feel a cough coming and he tried to fight it down.
“What’s wrong?” Mel pushed because he was gaunt with shadows in his eyes, because the man was afraid and it killed her to see him like this. She’d do whatever she could to fix him. Anything. Whatever the price was, she would pay it just to see him well again. "What can I do?"
“Do you know about Hanahaki Disease?” No, no, no. That cough was coming whether he wanted it to or not. Jack couldn’t stop the horrific coughing fit that wracked and ruined his body as he coughed up yet another flower, this one with traces of roots. He held out the bloody thing as proof.
“I know of it, not much about it.” Mel looked at the flower, at Jack, and tried to recall and piece together what she’d learned during the rare disease segments of her classes. Unrequited love that literally rooted into the body until it killed you. The only way out was surgery that essentially blanked out the emotions; that or mutual affection. “Jack...” The blonde trailed off, unsure of how to proceed from here.
“It’s you, Mel.” Jack was looking right at her with a pathetic expression on his face that she’d never seen before; then he looked back down again before crushing the flower in his palm. Something sweet and fresh filled the air between them, tinged with the faint, harshly metallic copper of blood. “I’m in love with you. I just- I had to say something before it killed me. I don’t want that surgery because I don’t want to lose everything I feel for you.” Jack was on a roll with his confession. “I’ve been in love with you for a year, Mel. I’ve watched you every day and it’s just gotten stronger, not weaker.” He felt another flower in his chest and he rubbed at it.
Mel stayed quiet and still, afraid of breaking this moment because there was no way he was admitting this. There was no possible way that the man she had fallen for had fallen right back and that the only way to fix him was to conveniently get together. It was too pat, too perfect, too simple.
“You don’t have to do anything, but I need to know if you care about me before I have that surgery I really don’t want.” If he had it at all at this point but he refused to allow guilt to play into her decision. As far as he was telling her, surgery was a go. His voice was desperate. “I love you, Melissa. And if there’s any chance you could feel the same, I need to know.”
The woman was frozen. She didn’t know what to say.
The silence grew. It stretched.
Jack coughed up another flower and dropped it on the floor. The longer the resident looked at him the more her feelings solidified.
“It’s okay, Jack.” Mel reached for him.
The use of his name jerked his head up in surprise. The bigger surprise was that she leaned over and kissed him, heedless of the traces of blood on his lips, pulling him close and resting her forehead against his.
“It’s alright. Because I love you too. I didn’t even think you noticed I existed, I’ve kept my head down because I didn’t want you to know. I didn’t think it was appropriate. I didn’t think it would be reciprocated after...after you lost her. And with the age difference, I thought you saw me as a child. I didn’t know where you landed.” Mel laid another gentle kiss over his lips, finally running her fingers through his slightly greasy hair before putting a hand along the sharpness of his cheekbone.
Jack felt something retreating and it was the most uncomfortable experience he’d ever had, worse than even the parallel event with his wife. He supposed that was difference between heart and lungs. The more she spoke the more the thing retreated down his throat and into his chest, slowly disappearing when she kissed him. It vanished entirely at her confession of her love for him. Even his breathing eased.
He kissed her back, whispering against her lips.
“You saved my life, Mel, just by loving me.” Abbot was just glad that he didn’t need to give her up. “Can we go for a meal? I’m starving now, I haven’t eaten properly in weeks.” Fingers reached out to brush along her cheekbone. “Or order something in, actually. I’m...really tired. Just let me text Robby. I promised him I would.”
All clear.
Seriously? She loves you?
Yup. It’s gone.
Good. Go eat something. Now. Doctor's orders.
Jack cracked a smile even as he pulled up DoorDash on his phone.
“Pick whatever you want, Jack.” Mel rested a hand on his thigh, gently rubbing his leg. “You’re the hungry one.”
She couldn’t run around saying things like that or he’d pick her up and take her upstairs. But no, that had to wait until he was back in physical condition. And there were a lot of steps between here and there, including just cuddling and right now that was really all he wanted. The whole experience had been traumatizing and exhausting. Again. Third time had better be the fucking charm on this one. Jack scrolled until he found a Thai spot, putting a ton of noodles, soups, and curries into the cart as well as a metric ton of rice before handing it over for her to put her food in.
“And I’m paying, Mel. I refuse to eat off your resident salary. I can afford it and I'm ordering more than you probably are.” And that had been the truth.
Jack had ordered enough for several meals and they were sitting out to cool before he threw them in the fridge for the next few days. Right now the man was inhaling two containers of soup as if he hadn’t eaten in weeks.
Because he hadn’t.
—
Mel was still in shock even as she dug into her own noodle dish at a much more sedate pace. The man loved her. And not only that, he loved her enough that it nearly killed him. Jack's feelings were so strong that he had found himself with a case of Hanahaki’s Disease. She’d missed it by being on the day shift; she wondered how he’d hidden it from the Nightcrawlers. It didn’t matter, honestly. She was here.
He loved her. She loved him.
They watched a movie after dinner, after Jack had insisted on cleaning up the containers and refused to let her lift a single finger to help despite his condition. Mel was currently tucked safely into his arms with her head resting on his collarbone still unable to believe her luck. It also struck her that he had implied he would possibly have rather died than give up these emotions for her. She knew the surgery was a thing and it was a risk and a consequence, but it was better than death, wasn’t it? She’d never know unless she was put into the same situation and she hadn’t been.
For his part Jack was just grateful to have his arms around her, to know that he wasn't going to suffocate and starve if he hadn’t wanted to live without her. That was what he’d been debating during these two weeks of leave.
Did he want to live without her or did he want to die without her? It hadn’t seemed like her loving him was a viable choice and yet here he was. Three hours ago he’d had a death sentence and now...well, now he had a woman he loved who loved him back. Not everybody got so lucky; the death rate for Hanahaki's was higher than it had any right to be.
Hopefully this would be his last ever case. Jack wasn't sure he could survive this again.