Title: ESP (IYKYK)
Author: Beth Pryor
Rating: M to be safe
Summary: A look at Dr. Abbot's life outside of work, perhaps? I took liberties.
Disclaimer: No Affiliation with The Pitt or ER (which is apparently a thing)
A/N: I haven't been here for a while, but I knew I was going to like Jack Abbot from the moment we saw him standing on that roof in episode 1. I was not wrong. So I did what it is that I sometimes do – I gave him a backstory.
Chapter 1 (of 1?)
"Jack? Is that you?" Greer exited the primary bedroom on the main floor of the house, hearing the front door's code chime. Certainly he was the only person who'd use it at this time of the morning, but he drove last night, and she didn't hear a car or the garage door. And he was coming in through the front.
"Yeah," he sighed, the fatigue evident in his voice before he turned toward her after he hung his bag in the front hall closet.
"Why are you coming in the front? Did you walk?"
"Yeah," he repeated, as though it was the only word he could manage.
"That's far, babe," she pointed out unnecessarily as she approached him.
"It's fine."
"I know it's fine. It's just far… after your shift."
He rolled his eyes, trying really hard not to limp as he passed by her and into the bedroom, but his gait wasn't completely even. He didn't say anything and neither did she. He nearly collapsed into the armchair beside the bed and started to untie his left shoe. She sat on the footstool beside the chair.
"Jack," she started, elongating his name to two syllables.
"Greer," he imitated her tone.
"Do you want to talk about it?" There had been nights and mornings like this before.
"Not yet."
"Are you hungry?"
He shook his head.
"Shower or bath before you sleep?"
"Bath. If you come with me. If you want."
"I may be able to make that happen. I haven't thrown up in," she glanced at the clock, "Forty-seven minutes."
He managed a look of true sympathy. "I'm sorry that's still happening. Shouldn't it be getting better by now, though?"
"We should have done this 20 years ago."
"Well, we were last on OB around then, so a little busy."
"True," she laughed. "Ten then."
"And you were ready to leave the cath lab for a year 10 years ago?"
"Touché Dr. Abbot."
"That's what I though, Dr. Abbot."
She squeezed his hand as she stood before leaning forward to kiss him. "I'll get things ready."
He undressed, removing the right lower leg prosthesis and grabbing the crutches beside the chair to join her.
She turned toward him with an armful of towels. "It's been a nice little break from flouro and lead so far, though."
"And you're getting so good at Botox," he pointed out as his reached down to kiss her.
She dropped the towels and ran her hands up the backs of his arms, stopping to explore the definition of his triceps. They stood there for a moment in that semi-embrace.
"And fillers. Don't forget the fillers," she continued when she was ready to separate her body from his for a moment.
"When you just can't adjust the lisinopril and Lipitor anymore."
"Clinic is the worst," she lamented. "You chose well."
"Did I?" Some days, like this one, he wondered.
"You know that you don't have to go back there ever again if you don't want. I'll be back stenting LADs in no time, and you can do nothing or whatever."
"I'm not good at 'nothing.'"
"Then do whatever. Keep this guy," she suggested, pointing to her growing abdomen.
He cocked his head to the side slightly as he sat on the edge of the tub. "I thought that you had a nanny all picked out and ready to start."
"I do, but I'd pick you over a nanny any day."
"You've never even seen me with a baby."
"Have you ever been with a baby? Or near a baby?" He wasn't a huge family guy. Or a kid person.
"Probably at some point," he surmised, although he couldn't say when.
She shrugged. "You're a fast learner."
"Kinda stubborn though."
She shrugged again. "I like that about you."
"I like everything about you."
"I hope so, because my elevens will be back before you know it." She frowned, showing him the supposed lines between her eyebrows.
"I love your elevens." He reached forward and pulled her toward him, kissing her between the eyes before he slid into the filling tub. She slipped under the water and on top of him.
"Thank you. But seriously, just think about what you want. It's about to be a whole new world here. We can make adjustments if we want or need to."
"I know, and I will." He wrapped his arms around her and entwined his fingers with hers. "Are you going in today?"
"For a few hours while you're sleeping. Injections only today. No lisinopril. Or insurance."
"Ah yes. The big money."
She elbowed him playfully. "It pays the bills. My husband has expensive taste."
He kissed her neck. "So does my wife."
"Nonsense. She can live on love alone."
"Well, maybe at one time, but she's gotten bougie in her old age."
She turned in his lap. "Don't joke about my old age. They already call me "extremely geriatric" at every OB appointment."
He reached forward and smoothed a lock of damp hair from her forehead. "I'm sorry, babe. You know that women who have a baby over 40 are statistically more likely to live to be over 100 than any other group. So you're not even middle aged yet. Me? I'm probably like 2/3 of the way done."
"Jack, seriously."
He kissed her hand. "Sorry. It was a bit of a rough one."
She settled back against him. "Clearly. It was a long walk. Too long on that leg."
"Jesus Greer," he exhaled against her neck.
"I mean the prosthesis, not your leg. Just take the appropriate one with you if you're gonna do an after-shift 10K on the reg."
"Yeah, okay," he conceded. "But I'm a big boy."
"That's also clear," she confirmed with a mischievous giggle as her hand found him behind her.
He chuckled lightly against her back.
"When are you due back?" she asked as he nibbled at her shoulder.
"Tonight," he revealed with a little sigh against her scapula.
"What time do you want to wake up?"
"You have anything up this afternoon?"
"Nope. I'll stay out today so you can sleep, keep the place quiet."
"It's fine if you need to be here." It was easier to sleep when he was home alone, but she knew how to move around quietly, and it was her house, too. "But let's say 17:30?"
"Sure. I'll make sure you're up by then. I'm gonna get ready to go, though." She slid away from him in the water and sat on the edge of the tub. "You good?"
"Never better," he quipped.
She grabbed a towel from the stack on the floor beside the tub and began to dry off.
"Oh! Pitt Fest starts today," he reminded her. "Traffic might be a mess."
"My last appointment is at 2:30, so I'll be home before anything gets too crazy, I'm sure." She reached down and kissed him again. "Get some rest, Jack."
After a few minutes more in the bath, he exited, dried himself and moved back toward the bed. She'd drawn the blackout shades and set the thermostat on 65, glacial for her, but his sleeping preference. There was something to be said about a partner who'd known you and every iteration of you in your entire adult life, and Greer had rolled with all the punches life had thrown him, and by extension them.
And now a baby. They had talked about it on and off over the years. But as they'd just joked, who ever had time for a baby? Not them. Not until now. And at 44, Greer was just over four months pregnant with their first child, a son.
Jack was simultaneously overjoyed and scared shitless. And his little moment on the roof just now was something that she did not need to know about. He was good, even, almost all the time. He and Dr. Rafferty kept it that way. He had too much to lose otherwise. But coding that guy tonight? He hadn't been lying when he'd asked Robby why they kept coming back.
It wasn't for any sort of status. Patients, other than maybe Myrna, didn't know his name. He hadn't written any of the papers he cited to residents. It certainly wasn't the money. Greer made about three times what he did in her practice – the Botox one, even. They'd had this discussion before. She made it clear that she loved him for who he was, not what he did. But what if they were the same thing? That was maybe his real fear. What was he if not an emergency physician? If he wasn't going 100 mph with his hair on fire every shift, where would the dopamine come from? He didn't want to have to figure that out yet.
Greer had also left a glass of water and four Ibuprofen by his bed. He swallowed them as he slid between the covers. She still used a top sheet beneath the duvet, which was a total "boomer" move. He knew better than to say that to her face, but some of the Gen Z nurses had explained to him a few days ago how that just wasn't done anymore while they were reducing a shoulder dislocation. He wasn't about to tell his already age-sensitive pregnant wife that not only her sheet choices, but also her ankle-length athletic socks meant she wasn't "young" anymore. That was a death wish he didn't have. He exhaled as his head hit the pillow. He felt the tension in his right hamstring began to ease almost immediately as sleep overtook him. A moment later something or someone was shaking him.
"Jack, baby. Wake up."
He swallowed hard, still disoriented. "My alarm didn't go off."
"No. It's not time yet. Dana just called my phone. It's an all-hands call. There was an active shooter at Pitt Fest. They're enacting mass casualty protocols."
He was up almost immediately. "Get my go-bag in the front closet."
"Okay. Get dressed. I'll drive you, at least part way." It was definitely too far to walk back.
He grabbed clean scrubs from a folded pile beside his bed. He really did need to return some of these, but today would not be the day. Greer was back with his bag by the time he'd dressed, donned the prosthesis, peed, and brushed his teeth in the bathroom.
"Do you need to look through it?" she asked
"Nah, I check it every week, and I haven't taken anything out of it this week."
"Of course you do," she said as she kissed him.
He ran his hands through her hair and then down her growing bump. "Okay." He was mission ready.
"All set?"
He nodded. "Let's go."
She handed him a protein shake, a water bottle, and shook four more Ibuprofen into his hand. He gave her a sideways glance before swallowing the pills with a long sip of water.
"It's going to be a long night." She could see the gleam in his eye as he realized what he was likely walking into in just a few moments.
"Yeah, it will be." He grabbed the bag and nearly jogged to the car.
He absolutely lived for this type of chaos. And she absolutely could not live without him, and there had been that brief moment when she thought she might have to. She took a deep breath and followed, as she had since they met on the first day of med school, just over 22 years ago.
He was quiet, getting in the headspace he'd need to attack this, but she pushed the protein shake toward him. "Drink this, Jack."
He nodded and finished the shake, following it with another long drink from his water bottle that he then replaced in its spot in his bag. "Drop me here," he finally spoke as they were about three blocks from the hospital. News vans were already visible ahead. "I have no idea what to expect or how long they'll need me. I'll try to check in when I can."
"Okay. Be careful, take breaks. Call me when you're done. I'll pick you up."
"Yeah, good plan." He reached across the console and kissed her. "I love you."
"Love you too."
She watched him jog in the direction of the emergency entrance, the broken, tired man she'd met at her front door this morning was gone, replaced by the very capable, very experienced combat and emergency physician she knew him to be.
A little after 9 pm, he called her.
"Hey."
"Hey," he sighed. "I'm out. Gonna grab a beer in the park with some of the crew. Wanna come?"
"An outsider won't kill the vibe?" she inquired.
"Maybe, but then I'll just leave with you. As God intended."
She laughed. "I'll be there in a bit."
Miraculous, by the time she arrived, there was a street parking spot just across from the park where he should be. She secured the car and crossed the street.
He smiled as he watched her approach. His right foot was sitting on the bench beside him. He realized and glanced over toward it with a little shrug. "I think all we have is beer," he said as he moved his prosthetic leg from what would be her spot.
"No worries, I'm all set. Hi Princess, Donnie, Mateo."
"Oh shit, sorry. This is Mohan – you've heard about her, and Javadi, who is new."
Greer's eyes widened. "Today?"
Victoria Javadi, a third-year medical student, managed a tired smile. "First shift."
"Oh gosh, that was a doozy," Greer exclaimed.
"Definitely," Victoria agreed.
She extended a hand to each woman in turn before she sat beside Abbot. "I'm Greer. I'm with him." She hitched her thumb over her thumb toward Jack.
He smiled. "No, I'm with you."
"Are you?" she asked with an exaggerated raise of her eyebrows now that they could move freely again as her own Botox wore off, much to her chagrin.
"Definitely," he affirmed as he leaned toward her and kissed her.
"Oh good. I think we're out, gang," Greer explained to the others.
"The hero always gets the girl," Jack proclaimed, clenched hands raised into the air briefly on either side of his head in a mock victory salute. The others laughed.
"Well as this story goes, anyway. Night guys. Nice to see and meet you!" She stood as he re-fastened the leg and joined her. They walked to the car hand-in-hand.
Once they were out of earshot, Samira Mohan spoke to the remaining ER crew. "Greer Abbot is married to our Dr. Abbot?"
"Who's Greer Abbot?" Veronica asked.
"She's an interventional cardiologist at UPMC, and she's kind of a big deal. She pioneered a new method for minimally invasive aortic valve replacement in patients who are unfavorable surgical candidates and holds the patent on the device," Samira explained.
"They've been together forever," Princess said with a little shrug. "They met in medical school."
"Wow," exclaimed Samira and Veronica together.
"They're having a baby. Our Dr. Abbot – that seems like it might stick – has been stressing since they found out," Princess continued, feeling like the two trainees had a right to know now that they'd met the other Dr. Abbot.
"Wow," Samira and Veronica said again, in concert.
"Did you know he was married?" Veronica asked the resident physician.
"He wears a ring, but I thought it might be to keep Myrna at bay," Samira pointed out with a laugh, "But I don't think that would work anyway."
As the other two approached their car, Greer clicked the remote to unlock the doors. They took their places, and Greer headed them toward their house.
After a few moments, she looked over toward Jack. "You okay?"
"Yeah. Too okay maybe?" He was still buzzing – from the night, from his realization on the roof with Robby, from how fucking great their team had responded to the worst situation imaginable.
"Nah, you thrive in that environment. That's okay. Someone needs to."
"One of the interns did a REBOA, Mohan evacuated an intracardiac air embolism with a pigtail catheter, and we had to do pre-peritoneal packing on a crushed pelvis just before I left."
"Jesus, Jack."
"Yeah, I know. 106 out of 112 made it out of our department, which is not half bad. What's the news saying?"
"It's impressive work, babe. They don't have numbers yet. They're just trying to make sense of everything, but I think you guys got the brunt of the major trauma. And there were some dead on scene that weren't immediately evacuated."
"Well, none of that is too surprising."
"You need to eat something. Do you want me to run through a drive-thru on the way home or order a pizza?"
"I'll order a pizza. Did you eat?"
"Not since lunch."
"Cheese?" he asks, not looking up from his phone, presumably ordering in an app.
"Yeah, I think that's all your son likes."
He looked up then and reached over and placed his hand on her abdomen. "Are we crazy?"
"About this or in general? Because I think the answer is yes."
He traced a gentle circle before leaning back in his seat. "This morning, there was a 39-year-old vet who'd made it through three tours. Hit by a drunk driver in a goddamned crosswalk. I coded him for over two hours. Fucking waste."
She moved her hand from the steering wheel to his left hand and squeezed it.
"I can't not do this, Greer. But some days it almost breaks me. Robby found me on the roof this morning. Not that I would jump or anything, but Jesus. And then tonight, it was like everything was perfect clarity. I knew exactly what to do at almost every turn. It was invigorating. I haven't felt so alive in years. Is that terrible?"
"No. We have to take those moments and use them as you did tonight. For us, it's to save people. And what better way to use a moment of clarity or genius or whatever it was?"
"Yeah, I guess."
She pulled into the garage and looked at him as she put the car in park. "I don't know why today was the way it was, but I'm glad you were there for those people because I know you did everything you possibly could have to help them. And I don't know of anyone who could do more than I know you always do, you always give. To them, to me."
"I don't know how to be a dad, Greer. Mine sucked." It wasn't a revelation, but it was a confession of his true anxiety surrounding their upcoming parenthood. And he couldn't even look at her as he said it.
She swiveled in her seat to face him, though. "You have really good instincts, Jack. And you're such a good and dependable guy. I trust you'll figure it out. And who says I'll know how to be a mom?"
"Moms just love babies, it's easy for them."
"Are you fucking kidding me?" she scoffed.
"I mean, not it's easy being a mom, but you'll have a bond with him."
"And you won't? Come on, Jack. You're a leader and a nurturer. That's basically fathering. And this one will look like you as an added bonus."
"He'd better."
"He will," she assured him as they finally exited the car. "Did you order the pizza?"
"Yeah. It's out for delivery," he said, holding up the phone so she could see the tracker on the app.
"Okay. You need a shower. I'll stick it in the oven until you're done."
He emerged about 15 minutes later on crutches. She met him at the kitchen island with a plate. "If you sit on a comfy chair, you'll fall asleep. Let's stay here."
He accepted his plate from her and took a bite. "I should go back in later."
"Shen texted while you were in the shower. He said they don't need you tonight, and Laird is coming back from vacation early to cover tomorrow. And you're off Sunday, so they'll see you Monday night." She took the barstool beside him as she slid his phone across the counter.
"For real?"
"Yeah."
"We should do something this weekend, then." He'd take advantage of a long weekend with her every chance he got.
"Sure. Have anything in mind?"
"Football in Morgantown? It's a night game. The Backyard Brawl."
"You think we can find tickets?" she asked, skeptical of their availability at this late hour.
"I think I can get some."
"I can't tailgate," she pointed out, a half scowl on her face.
"You can't drink. You can still hang out and have fun."
"Are you planning to meet up with people?" His idea seemed less impromptu the more he spoke about it.
"I'm in a group chat with some guys from home, and most of them will be there."
"With Blue Lot tickets?"
"Yeah, a couple of them."
"And game tickets?" she pressed.
He was already scrolling through his phone, calling up the chat window. "Tony D's kid is sick. His wife is staying home with the kid. He has two available."
"Well, then let's go."
"Mountaineers," he beamed, pleased with his seamless use of their alma mater's sporting slogan.
"Yes," she laughed. "That too."
"Oh, don't be too cool for school."
"I'm not. It just takes me a minute to get back into the spirit or groove or whatever."
"Rich Rod's first Backyard Brawl back? We can't miss that." He pushed back from the island and started to stand, almost forgetting that he wouldn't be fully balanced if he did. She placed a hand on his arm and he stopped, the realization coming over him that he was moving too fast for his anatomy, namely his missing right foot.
"And we clearly won't. Tell Tony D we want the tickets," she exclaimed, not wanting to kill the vibe.
"Okay, yeah." He sent the text as he settled back into his seat. "And Dan has a Blue Lot pass his brother isn't using. He's at a wedding."
"Go wild. What's the worst that can happen?!"
"I used to work security at those games when I was playing baseball at Fairmont State before I transferred. You'd be surprised."
"I'm sure I wouldn't anymore, though," she mused even as she thought about plans for the day ahead. "Do we need to bring anything?"
His phone lit up with multiple incoming texts from his guys. "Nah, they're just excited that we're actually coming. When's the last time we went to a game? It's been forever!"
"We lost to Texas, so it was in the Big XII days," she recollected.
"That doesn't narrow it down."
"No, it really doesn't."
He finished the second slice of pizza on his plate, drained his water bottle, and grabbed the crutches beside his chair. "Are you good here? Tony wants to talk for a minute."
"Of course. Tell Amanda I said hello and that I hope whatever kid is feeling better soon."
"I will. It was a tonsillectomy yesterday, so no chance for a miraculous recovery, which is good for us!" he finished with a cheeky grin.
"Jack!"
"Oh, the kid will be fine. And it's the little one. I can't ever remember his name."
"It's Griffin, and should we bring a get-well gift?"
"Nah, just hope for a win."
"Of course," she said to his retreating back as she started to tidy up the kitchen.
"It's a gold rush," he called back to her from the doorway of the bedroom. "Do we have stuff for that?"
"If not we can go to the Book Exchange before we park." His call connected before he could answer.
"Tony, hey!"
She allowed herself a contented grin hearing Jack on the phone with his college friend. Even though they both grew up in West Virginia, they hadn't met until the first day of medical school at WVU. Jack, who was from Bridgeport, had played baseball at Fairmont State University for a year before he walked on the baseball team at West Virginia University and finished his undergraduate degree there. He joined the ROTC so that the Army would pay for medical school, as he'd always planned to be a doctor but had no idea how one would make that happen until he drove past the health services recruiting office.
He'd fooled around in high school, but when he got to Farimont State he decided to see what he could make of himself. Turns out, he was smart, hard-working, and tenacious. And a well-placed advisor told him the sky was his limit. He earned grades that allowed him to transfer easily to WVU at the end of his first year, and seeing as the baseball program wasn't world-class, they were all too happy to have him walk on and win the spot at second base. They even found a little bit of scholarship money for his tuition and living expenses for his last two years.
Greer was from Harper's Ferry and had gone out of state to Centre College in Kentucky for undergrad. She got a degree in biochemistry and then a job at Mylan in the quality control lab as she applied for medical school, having decided a little late in the game to apply while she was still in college. Jack needed five years to complete his degree in chemistry with all of the medical school pre-requisites, so they both had a "gap year" in Morgantown in which their paths never crossed until they ended up sitting next to one another on the first day of first year orientation at WVU School of Medicine. He asked her to form a study group with him, and by the time of the first exam, they were dating.
They matched their residencies as a couple at Mass General in Boston before Jack was pulled for active duty and deployment during his second year. That one went okay, and he came back to finish up as she was able to stay in Boston for her cardiology fellowship. His second deployment came just after his residency graduation when he returned to full active duty. She was in Houston for additional training in interventional cardiology. That one did not go well and ended up costing Jack his right foot. Her first contract as an attending paid her a salary that would have paid both of their medical school loans in less than two years, putting everything they'd been through over the previous two years in harsh perspective.
But he was hard-working and tenacious, not to mention smart, and he figured out how to get back to work, how to stay in the military for his full 20 years, and was deployed many, many more times without further bodily harm. He had separated completely the previous year, prompting an increase in his sessions with Dr. Rafferty, his long-suffering therapist, to weekly over the past few months. And then she got pregnant.
They hadn't planned it. They hadn't tried to stop it, either. It was an incredible long shot. But they were both apparently very good shots. And now they were in their mid-forties and expecting their first baby. All their friends had kids in college or not at all. She didn't even want to think about how old she'd be when this baby started college. Maybe he'd be a genius.
She came from a big family, and there were always babies around. But she hadn't ever really felt one way or the other about being a mom. She thought she'd be a good one, but she also knew how much time and energy she gave to her job – partly because she needed to and partly because she wanted to. Jack had no family to speak of. His father left when he was young. His mother had died of lung cancer when he was in college, and his only brother died of a heroin overdose when they were in Boston. She wanted to be enough family for him, but when the little test showed her a plus sign, she couldn't help but think that maybe she hadn't been enough. That this would be better – just the three of them against the world. And then she panicked that he wouldn't want it at all. But he'd been outwardly overjoyed. She didn't know what he'd told Dr. Rafferty, but he did buy a Baby's First Terrible Towel the day after she told him, which she took as a good sign.
She thought forward to the weekend to come. Their medical school friends, the few they kept up with, didn't live in Morgantown anymore, so the people they'd be meeting up with tomorrow were Jack's friend from undergrad and maybe even from home. She didn't collect people like that, which was another reason she knew he'd be an amazing dad and sometimes doubted her own mothering instincts. She kept in touch with one person from home, one person from undergrad, one person from medical school (other than Jack) and maybe two from residency and fellowship combined. She didn't need them. And she knew that sounded horrible, so she didn't say it out loud. She had the people around her now, a group of women she'd met through work and volunteering and at Pilates, but she wasn't close with any of them. She had Jack. And he had her… and everyone he'd ever met.
Even though he found comfort in the dark, according to Dr. Rafferty, he understood people in a way that she didn't know how to do or even how to try to do. His patients were sometimes unconscious. Hers ALWAYS were.
Her phone screen illuminated with a text from Jack. He hated yelling for her, but it wasn't always practical for him to come to her.
"Are you coming to bed?"
Rather than texting back, she threw her dish rag in the sink and turned to join him. Tonight had been chaotic for him, but she looked forward to tomorrow and the weekend with Jack in the place they'd met and fallen in love.
FIN?