Chapter Text
Screams pierced through the relative quiet of the night shift. Jack Abbot paused reading through his notes, his head tilting toward the sound. 03:30 usually brought drunks or the occasional injury from a bar fight, not wailing babies. Thank goodness for small mercies and all that. He set down his tablet and stepped into the hallway.
He rounded the corner seeking the source of the noise and sucked in a breath.
It was you.
After three years, you were standing there in worn jeans and a rumpled sweater, dark circles under your eyes. But it was the squirming, screaming toddler with a mop of dark hair in your arms that held his attention.
He stilled, one hand gripping the edge of the nurses’ station. His mouth opened, closed then opened again. You didn’t see him, too focused on the child in your arms and the nurse asking you questions.
The shock lasted approximately three seconds before he reasserted control over his reactions. He straightened his scrubs and headed to the board, scanning the most recent entry. Your last name followed by Amelia Age 2F. Chief complaint fever and ear pain.
Jack grabbed a tablet and pulled up the chart. He entered the exam room with practiced calm even if he felt anything but. “Hello,” he said and your head snapped up.
Recognition, surprise and something unreadable flashed across your face in quick succession. You adjusted your hold on your still crying child. “Jack,” you breathed.
He gave you a half smile of acknowledgement, swallowing down all the questions he wanted to ask until he got the little one taken care of. “What’s going on with the babe?”
You swallowed hard. “This is Amelia. I’m pretty sure it’s an ear infection. She was fussy all day. The fever started after dinner. Tylenol’s not helping much.”
Nikki, one of the night shift nurses, glanced over. “Temps 102.2. Mom says she’s been refusing liquids for the past few hours.”
Mom. The word landed like a rock in Jack’s stomach.
He took a deep breath. “Alright, let’s have a look. You can keep hold of her for now. Just sit on the bed with her. I’ll work around you.”
You nodded, climbing onto the paper covered surface with Amelia clinging to you. Jack approached slowly, movements careful as he pulled the stethoscope from around his neck.
“Hey there, sweetheart,” he said softly. “I know you’re not feeling good. We’re going to try to help, okay?”
The toddler ignored him completely, burying her face deeper into your neck while she screamed and howled. Jack worked efficiently despite the challenge, listening to her lungs before examining her ears.
“Right ear is definitely infected. The membrane is bulging and bright red.” He glanced up at you. “You said this just started today?”
Your hand smoothed over her back in small circles. “She was maybe a little more tired than usual yesterday but nothing alarming.”
Jack nodded. “We’ll start an IV to get some fluids and antibiotics started. The faster we get ahead of this, the better she’ll feel.” He turned to Nikki. “Can you prep a pediatric IV kit? And we’ll need acetaminophen and ceftriaxone.”
The nurse gathered supplies while Jack pulled on a pair of gloves.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered and Jack wasn’t sure if you were talking to him or Amelia.
“For what?” he asked.
“For showing up like this. Disturbing your shift.”
His eyes met yours. “This is literally my job.”
The nurse returned with a tray of supplies and Jack explained the procedure to you. “We’ll need to place a small IV. It will hurt for a moment but then we can give her something for pain right away.”
You nodded, adjusting your position so you had a better hold on her.
“Talk to her,” he suggested. “Distract her the best you can.”
You began whispering words of reassurance as Jack and the nurse worked in tandem. The needle slid in and Amelia’s wails reached a new, higher pitch. You never stopped your soothing litany even as tears formed in your own eyes.
“Almost done,” Jack said, securing the IV with tape and connecting the line. “There we go. Nikki, let’s push the pain meds first.”
The effect wasn’t immediate but within five minutes, Amelia’s screams began to soften into whimpers. Within ten, her small body went slack against yours as she finally surrendered to sleep.
“Thank god.” Your shoulders relaxed as you pressed your lips to the top of her head.
Jack ducked out once to tell Lena where he’d be if she needed him and check in with his underlings. When he came back, he just stood for a moment and watched the two of you.
“We’ll need to keep her for a bit. Make sure the fever comes down and she’s tolerating the antibiotics.”
You nodded, too tired to argue. “Whatever she needs.”
He hesitated then asked the first question of many cycling through his brain. “Is there someone we can call for you?”
“No. It’s just us.”
Jack slid one of the stools over to the bed, eyes locked on the sleeping toddler in your arms. Now that she was peaceful, the resemblance was unmistakable. Those dark curls, the shape of her face, even the slight furrow between her brows as she slept. Jack had spent enough nights looking at those same features on his boyfriend’s face to recognize them instantly in miniature form. Amelia was Robby’s daughter, no question about it. He only wondered if you’d admit it.
He cleared his throat softly. “She’s two?”
“Yes.” Your fingers gently stroked her hair. The gesture was automatic, the movement of a parent who had spent countless hours soothing their child.
His gaze lifted from Amelia to your face. “The father?”
A shadow crossed your features, but you met his eyes. “You know who her father is, Jack. You knew it as soon as you saw those big brown eyes. She looks just like him.”
Jack ran a hand through his hair. “Why didn’t you tell him? He has a right to know.”
You arched a brow, your features turning sharp with anger. “Did he tell you why I left?”
The night you disappeared had been a defining moment for Robby, one that Jack had heard about repeatedly. “He said he woke up and you were gone. That you’d blocked his number and he had no idea where you were. He was worried sick. I tried to call only to find you’d blocked me as well.” And god, that had about killed him.
A bitter laugh escaped your lips, though you swallowed the sound when Amelia stirred against your chest. “He’s full of shit.”
Jack blinked, caught off guard by the venom in your voice.
“That night I came home from a shift to find him drunk. Not just a few beers drunk, empty bottle of whiskey drunk. We’d been fighting for weeks. I was exhausted, working a lot of overtime. And you know what he was like then.”
Jack’s brow furrowed. This didn’t align with what Robby had told him but he couldn’t say he was surprised. Robby had been spiraling severely toward the end of your relationship.
“He asked why I even bothered coming home. That I was suffocating him by asking him if he was okay all the time. That I was too needy, wanting to spend all our time together. That I should stop trying to fix him because—” Your voice caught. “Because I wasn’t worth the effort for him to try.”
Jack’s face fell. “Jesus.”
“I packed what was important to me while he passed out on the couch. Left my key on the counter. I made the assumption he didn’t want me around. Wouldn’t you?”
Jack cursed under his breath, eyes dropping to the floor. No wonder you’d disappeared out of all their lives. Fucking Robby.
“I found out about Lia six weeks later,” you added. “I was staying with a friend, trying to figure out what to do next.”
The silence stretched between you, broken only by the distant sounds of the hospital and Amelia’s soft breathing.
“I wasn’t going to expose her to that, Jack. He needed help and he refused to get it.” Your voice hardened. “You don’t get to make him the victim. I was all alone. I would have given anything to not be, but not at the cost of my heart. Or hers.”
His eyes searched your face, searching for lies or uncertainty. He found neither. “Why didn’t you at least tell someone? Anyone?”
“And say what? Hey the guy who told me I wasn’t worth the effort is about to be a father?” You shook your head. “I have no family I could turn to. My friends had been hearing about our problems for months. They bailed when they had to ‘work’ to be my friend.”
Jack winced at that. He remembered Robby from those days. Volatile, angry, drowning in grief. The man had been a walking hurricane destroying everything in his path. Including his relationship with you apparently.
“I thought about calling,” you admitted, voice softer. “So many times. When I was throwing up every morning for weeks. When I went to my first ultrasound alone. When they handed her to me in the delivery room and I had no one to share it with.” Your eyes glistened with unshed tears. “But every time, I remembered the look in his eyes, the things he said.”
“He’s different now,” Jack said.
You lifted a brow. “I’ve heard that before.”
He shook his head once. “No, I mean it. After you left…It broke something in him. Made him realize how far he’d fallen maybe. It was the wake up call he needed.”
You glanced down at Amelia’s sleeping face. “Good for him.” There was no warmth in your voice. “I’m glad he got help. But I made the right choice. I had to protect myself, then I needed to protect her. We’ve managed.”
The way your voice wavered on those last two words said more than you’d probably intended them to. The circles under your eyes, the worn state of your clothes, the fact you were here alone in the middle of the night with a sick child. It all painted a picture of struggle.
“I know what you’re thinking,” you said catching his expression. “Poor single mom, in over her head. But we’re fine. She’s happy and she’s loved. That’s more than I can say for what her life would have been like with him.”
Jack leaned back, taking a deep breath as he absorbed everything you’d told him. The version of events you described matched the Robby from then, the broken, angry doctor who snapped at interns and drowned himself in work to avoid facing his demons. But that wasn’t the man he knew now, the one who brought him coffee at the end of his shifts, who sat with patients’ families delivering difficult news, who attended therapy religiously every Wednesday without fail. Three years could change a person. Jack knew that better than most. But it didn’t erase the pain of the past or the consequences.
He looked at your daughter again, at the tiny hand curled on your chest, at the undeniable evidence of Robby’s genetics in every feature of her face. A child who had never met her father. A father who didn’t know he had a child.
Jack leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Why didn’t you call me? Why block me? I would have helped. You have to know that.”
His eyes betrayed his long-standing affection for you, one that predated his current relationship.
You adjusted Amelia’s sleeping form to a more comfortable position. “I wasn’t going to put you in the middle, Jack. I wasn’t going to make you choose. You were his friend first.”
Jack’s gaze dropped to his hands. “There’s something you should know.”
You tilted your head in question.
“I’m with Robby now,” he said. “We’ve been together for almost a year.”
Your eyes widened slightly. He watched your reaction carefully, unsure what he expected, but he found nothing but a sort of resigned understanding.
“He’s been going to therapy. Regular sessions every week. Has been since about two months after you left.” He paused. “He’s different. Not perfect. Still Robby, still stubborn as hell and too blunt for his own good, but he’s better. Healthier. And I know he misses you. We talk about you all the time.”
You looked at him sharply, a flash of something—fear, maybe—crossing your features.
“I won’t tell him,” Jack assured you quickly. “About any of this. That’s not my place.” He gestured toward Amelia. “But you should. If for no other reason than he can help. Financially, if nothing else.”
You looked down at the girl in your arms, uncertainty written in every line of your body.
“If you won’t let him help, let me,” Jack offered simply.
The kindness in his voice broke something in you, tears spilling down your cheeks. Silent at first, then accompanied by a shuddering breath.
“It’s been so hard,” you admitted, voice cracking. “I lost my job when I was pregnant. There were complications and…”
You trailed off and Jack bit the inside of his lip to keep from asking the million things he wanted to know about that. It wasn’t important right now. This was.
“Anyway, I work at this flower shop six days a week. The owner let me bring Lia with me when she was little. The pay’s barely enough for our apartment.” You wiped at your tears with your free hand. “We don’t have a car. I take the bus everywhere which means leaving at least an hour earlier for everything. My neighbor, who’s like eighty, watches Lia when I work but I feel terrible about it because sometimes she’s so energetic. I worry it’s too much for her.”
Jack listened, chest tightening with each new detail. He thought of their spacious home, their comfortable salaries, the stability Robby could have offered you both.
“The last time Lia was sick, I had to miss three days of work. My boss was understanding, but I still only got paid for one. I had to choose between the electricity and the phone bill. I choose the electricity of course, but then my phone got shut off and I missed a call for a better job because they couldn’t reach me.”
Jack moved to sit beside you, careful not to jostle Amelia, and wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “I am so sorry you’ve been going through this alone.”
You leaned into him, body trembling slightly. He pulled you closer, feeling your tears dampen his scrub top. He held you while you cried, occasionally pressing a kiss to the top of your head. You were breaking his heart.
“You’re not alone anymore,” he murmured against your hair. “We’ll figure this out.”
When your tears finally subsided, you straightened, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand. “I’m sorry. I don’t usually fall apart like that.”
“Don’t apologize. You’ve been carrying too much for too long.”
You traced the curve of Amelia’s cheek with one finger. “I’ve thought about telling him. So many times. Especially when she started asking about her daddy.” Your voice caught on the word. “I know it’s just a concept to her right now, something she sees on TV, but it hurts. I just tell her he lives far away.”
Jack nodded in understanding. There was no way to explain to a toddler the complications of adult relationships.
“He won’t take her?” Your voice was tight with fear.
His brow furrowed, not immediately understanding. “What do you mean?”
“If I tell him about her, he won’t try to take her from me?”
The realization of what you were asking hit Jack like a punch to his sternum. You weren’t just worried about Robby’s reaction or his potential rejection, you were afraid he might use his resources, his position, to claim custody of the child you’d raised alone.
Jack’s response was immediate and certain. “I won’t let him,” he said as if it was the simplest thing in the world.
You looked up at him, brows lifting in surprise.
“I mean it.” His voice was low and steady. “If he tried anything like that, he wouldn’t, but if he did, I’d stop him. You’re her mother. You’ve been there every day of her life. No one’s going to change that.”
The conviction in his voice seemed to reassure you and your shoulders relaxed slightly under the weight of his arm. Jack knew making such a promise placed himself between two people he cared about. But looking at your exhausted face, at the protective way you cradled Amelia, he couldn’t bring himself to regret it.
“Robby can be impulsive, but not cruel. Not anymore. He wouldn’t hurt you like that. Not now.”
You nodded, considering his words. “He really goes to therapy?”
“Every Wednesday at seven,” Jack confirmed. “He either makes sure he’s off or someone comes in early to cover for him.”
A small, sad smile curved your lips. “I used to beg him to go.”
“I know. He told me. Said it was one of his biggest regrets, not listening to you then.”
You took a deep breath as Amelia shifted in your arms. “Okay. I’ll tell him.”
Jack couldn’t contain the grin that spread across his face, a sudden energy coursing through him. This was right. This was what needed to happen. He sat up straighter, already mentally planning the conversation.
“Good.” He stood up. “I’ll get him in here and you can tell him right now.”
You blinked in surprise. “It’s like four in the morning, Jack.”
He shrugged, unconcerned. “He doesn’t work tomorrow. And I’d say he deserves to be dragged from his bed for this, don’t you?”
You shook your head at his enthusiasm, but there was a hint of amusement in your eyes. It was a good sign.
Jack pulled out his phone and tapped Robby’s contact, putting it to his ear as it began to ring.
On the third ring, the sleep-roughened voice Jack had grown accustomed to hearing answered. “Robinavitch.”
“Hey. Need you to come to the hospital,” Jack said, staring at the far wall, though he was aware of your gaze on him.
There was a rustling sound on the other end of the line. “Is everything okay? Is there an MCI?”
“No, nothing like that. This is more…personal.”
A pause. “I’m going to need more of an explanation that that, baby,” Robby insisted. His voice was a mixture of concern and irritation at being awakened.
Jack’s eyes flicked to you, holding your gaze as he said your name. “She’s here.”
The change in Robby’s voice was instantaneous, sharp attention replacing any lingering tiredness. “What? Is she okay?”
“She’s fine,” Jack said quickly. “But she wants to talk to you.”
There was a long pause followed by Robby saying, “I’ll be right there,” in a quiet voice. The call ended with no goodbyes.
Jack slipped the phone back into his pocket. “He’s on his way.”
You nodded, hands soothing Amelia’s hair in that nervous gesture he’d noticed earlier. Lena appeared in the doorway, tablet in hand. “We’ve got a possible appendicitis in three.”
“I’ll be right there,” he said before turning back to you. “I need to get back to work, but I’ll check on you both as soon as I can. Don’t sneak out.”
Your lips twitched. “Lia’s still on an IV, Jack.”
His expression turned sheepish. “Oh, right. Well, good.”
He slipped out of the room, leaving you alone with your daughter. He worked through the patient load, one eye always on the clock.
Fifteen minutes after the call, Robby strode through the ambulance bay doors. He was dressed in hastily thrown on cargos and a rumpled sweatshirt, his dark hair disheveled. His eyes swept the ED until they landed on Jack.
“Where is she?” Robby asked as he approached.
“She’s in South Four.” Jack put a hand on his arm to stop him from walking off. “Before you go in there—”
“Is she hurt? Sick?” The questions tumbled out, concern etched onto Robby’s face.
“She’s fine,” Jack reassured him. “Just…be gentle, okay? She’s been through a lot.”
Confusion flickered across Robby’s face, but he nodded and squeezed Jack’s shoulder briefly before continuing to the room. Jack watched him pause outside the room, hand on the door and take a deep breath. Robby stepped inside and froze in place as his eyes found you and the sleeping toddler in your arms.