Work Text:
The ER is chaos as always, Jack picked up a day shift while Robby was out handling some schmoozing for the hospital and appointments set up by Gloria to hopefully get some donations to pay for a new addition to the hospital- not fixing the staffing issue, like the money should be used for. It was 3pm which means that Robby was probably home and had already changed out of his suit into some comfortable sweats and a hoodie. The kids were going to be getting home from school soon. Robby would be coming in for the night shift tonight, and then the two had the next 2 days off to readjust their sleep schedules, so they could go back to their preferred shifts.
Jack moved through the trauma bay with practiced ease, his prosthetic clicking softly beneath his scrubs like always. He barely noticed its presence anymore-until he did. It always happened at the most inconvenient times, he would be in the middle of a trauma when his leg decided it was the perfect time to send pain through the non-existent calf. He was leaning over a patient who was in a car accident, stabilizing her cervical collar, when it happened. A sharp pop, and then he felt a sudden shift in his balance. His right leg buckled and he instinctively reached out catching himself on the gurney, but not before pain shot up into his hip and back.
“Dr. Abbot?” Princess asked, startled by the doctor stumbling
“I’m fine. No need to worry” Jack said automatically and without a second thought. His voice was tight and clipped. He tried to shift his weight onto his other leg as he felt his prosthetic wobble then give out again. It was busted, there was no hope for repair. Gritting his teeth, he barks out “Get me Collins and my phone off the tray”
“She’s in Central 3. Here’s your phone” Princess says
Jack exhales. “Then page ortho and get me a chair please”
Jack wheels himself to the break room, so he doesn’t have to deal with the looks of his staff and patients. As he was about to text Robby, the door to the break room swings open and Dana walks in
“Hey, soldier. You good?”
“No. My prosthetic is shot” Jack says as he rolls his head back
“Do you want me to call Robby?” Dana asks pulling a chair up next to Jack and placing her hand on Jack’s shoulder
“No, but thanks for offering. I am about to text him”
“Let me know if you need anything. I better get back out there”
Jack just smiles.
JACK + ROBBY
Jack: Hey, leg decided it was done with this shift. Ankle snapped, the whole thing is shot. Didn’t fall, thanks to my lightening fast reflexes. Ortho is working on a temp, but you know my stump isn’t the easiest to fit. I promise I’m okay, just annoyed. Can you come pick me up, Gloria won’t let me stay?
Robby: Sorry that happened babe. Of course I’ll come get you! Getting in the car now
————————————————————————
Ten minutes later, Jack is sitting in the break room with his leg propped up on a stool. The prosthetic half-detached and useless. He doesn’t want his stump out for everyone to see. Sweat is beading his forehead, not from pain-he can handle pain-but from the sudden, jarring reminder that his body has limits and the never-ending reminder of his time overseas in war zones.
The door creaks open and Robby steps in, wearing Jack’s med school hoodie and some baggy sweatpants. “You, okay?” He asks with a low voice.
Jacks looks up, giving Robby a weak smile. “It snapped. Mid-shift. I also lost my grip on a patient’s neck, I could’ve paralyzed them”
Robby kneels beside him, inspecting the joint. “It’s a carbon fiber ankle. You’ve been pushing it too hard. It was time for a new one anyways”
“Story of my life” Jack laughs bitterly
Robby looks up meeting Jack’s eyes that are glossy. He’s holding in tears, which breaks Robby’s heart. “You’re not broken Jack. The leg is. That’s all”
Jack’s jaw tightens. “I hate feeling like a liability. I just wish that this wouldn’t happen at work of all places”
“You’re not a liability” Robby says grabbing Jack’s hand. “Look at me” Robby says as he lightly grabs Jack’s jaw to turn his face, so they’re looking eye to eye. “You, Dr. Jack Abbot, are an awesome father of four, an amazing husband, an extremely talented ER physician, a selfless soldier, and the most stubborn man who I love. You are allowed to stumble and need help sometimes”
Jack looks down, trying to collect himself-I can’t cry. “The kids…”
“Will be proud of how you handled this. They will be even more proud that you let someone help. Isn’t that what we are teaching them, that’s it’s okay to not be okay and ask for help?”
Jack nods a little. “You always know what to say”
Robby smiles and whispers “That’s because I’ve had years of practice and now therapy. You have taught me everything I know. I love you…ALL of you” Robby says as he presses a kiss to Jack’s temple. “Alright, let’s go home and call the VA to get you fitted for a new ankle. Also, now I get to drive for once” Robby says with a smirk
“Alright, now you’re pushing your luck”
Robby pushes Jack out of the break room and through the ER while he is sitting on a wheelly chair. As they are about to head through the door and out into the chilly Pittsburgh air, Dana catches up to them. “Hey, Cap. Will I see you tomorrow?’
“Ahhh…I don’t know. I should probably stay home with Jack for a couple days”
Jack interrupts from the chair, looking up at Dana and Robby who are behind him. “He will be here. It’s bad enough that I am laid up, I don’t think I can handle mother hen watching my every move”
Robby just rolls his eyes.
————————————————————————
The kids were already home when Robby pulled into the driveway, Jack in the passenger seat, his wheelchair in the truck of the car. Inside, Ellie is helping the twins with their homework, while Beau plays on the Nintendo Switch hooked up to living room TV.
As Robby rolls Jack through the door, all four heads turn towards the men.
“Dad” Scottie yells, running towards Jack. “Why are you in a wheelchair?”
Jack smiles, leaning forward carefully to hug her. “My leg had a bad day. Nothing I can’t handle.”
Emery frowns, “Did it break?”
Jack nods, “just a part of it. I’ve got a new one coming”
“Is this like when my drone’s rotor snapped and you had to fix it with duct tape?”
“Exactly like that Emery” Jack says ruffling the boy’s hair.
Ellie crosses her arm and leans back against the counter. “You okay?”
Jack meets her eyes. She’s 16 going on 30, all sharp edges and soft worry-definitely his kid. “Yeah, pumpkin. I’m good.”
Robby steps in trying to lessen the tension and worry that has taken over the room. “We’re going to get him fitted for a new one in the next week. Meaning, he will have to let me drive”
The kids laugh and Jack rolls his eyes. Beau chimes in from the couch, “Don’t get used to it. I think he would rather wear his old, shitty prosthetic that doesn’t fit, then let you drive abba”
“Beau is right” Jack says poking Robby’s side
————————————————————————
After dinner, the twins head up to their rooms and Jack heads to the living room couch, using the crutches that they keep in the house for moments like this, where his prosthetic isn’t an option. Ellie lingers in the kitchen, watching Jack with a careful eye. She decides to head into the living room and sit down next to him.
“You don’t have to pretend” She says quietly. “It’s okay to be mad about this dad”
Jack looks at her surprised. “I’m not mad” He says trying to get the smile plastered across his face to show in his eyes.
She raises an eyebrow, challenging him. She’s going to call his bluff. It’s something she learned from Dana for sure
“………Okay, maybe I’m a little mad” he admits. “But I’m proud that I didn’t fall and didn’t panic. I asked for help”
Ellie nods, “That the strongest part. I know you hate asking for anything.”
“True” Jack laughs.
Jack pulls Ellie in for a hug, but the moment is interrupted by the twins barreling into the room.
“Dad” Scottie says solemnly as she squeezes in on the other side of him. “Your crutches are really boring”
Jack turns towards her and raises an eyebrow. “They’re medical equipment peanut”
“They’re sad” Emery adds dragging a box of stickers and glitter pens across the hardwood floor. “We can fix that for you”
Beau appears with a huge grin holding up a roll of neon and cheetah print duct tape. “We’re thinking flames or lightening bolts or if you want to get crazy, we can do both”
Ellie chuckles and looks up from her phone. “Maybe, something subtle. Like matte black with silver accents. It’s cool, but not chaotic”
“Is this the design committee?” Jack chuckles
“We’re the Crutch Club” Scottie declares “Dad, your our first client”
Jack blinks. “Do I get a say?”
“Nope” Emery says “You do get sparkles though.
Robby walked in with snacks and pauses at the scene in front of him: Jack surrounded by art supplies, the twins arguing over sticker placement, Beau testing duct tape strength, and Ellie making sketches like she is prepping for a NASA pitch.
Robby chuckles from the chair where he is now sitting across the room from Jack, watching this whole thing unfold. “You okay with this?”
Jack looks at his kids—so eager to help, so full of love—and nods. “I think I’m about to have the most fashionable crutches in Pittsburgh.”
Scottie smiles. “We’re gonna make them happy crutches.”
Jack’s voice softened. “They already are.
————————————————————————
Later that night, Jack and Robby are getting ready for bed. Jack is sitting on the edge of their bed, leg propped and shoulders hunched with tension. Robby comes in carrying some more pillows and blankets from the guest bedroom, setting them down without a word. He sits beside Jack in bed and waits for him to break the silence.
Jack finally speaks as he adjusts his postion in bed. “I hate this part. The waiting. The sitting still. I feel like I’m watching my own life from the sidelines.”
Robby nods as he rubs Jack’s back. “I remember how you said the same thing when you first lost your leg. Then you walked again. And then you ran. And now you masterfully maneuver around the ER running traumas like a bad ass and come home to play soccer in the backyard with the kids”
Jack looks down at his lap “I know. I just… I hate needing help.”
Robby reaches for his hand. “You don’t need help. You need time. And I’m here for both.”
Jack leans into Robby and rests his head on his husband’s shoulder. “I didn’t fall today. But I felt like I did.”
Robby kisses his temple. “Then let’s stand back up together.”
Robby leaves the room after seeing Jack rubbing his stump where the socket had bruised his skin. He returns with a heating pad and some water, placing it on Jack’s nightstand.
“Thanks,” Jack murmurs
Robby sits back down beside him. “I know we already talked about earlier, but I want you to know that you were amazing today.”
Jack shook his head. “I felt… exposed. Like everyone saw the part of me I try to keep invisible.”
“They didn’t see weakness,” Robby said. “They saw you. And they saw how you kept going.”
Jack leans into him. “I hate that it still gets to me.”
“I know,” Robby said, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “But you don’t have to carry it alone.”
Jack was quiet for a moment. “Ellie said something earlier. She said the strongest part was asking for help.”
Robby smiled. “Smart kid. She gets it from you, Jack.”
They sat there in the dark, the hum of the house around them, the weight of the day slowly lifting.
Jack whispers, “Thank you for catching me. Again.”
Robby leaned down, kissing his temple. “Always.” Robby and Jack lay down and Robby pulls Jack’s upper half to rest against his chest, while Jack’s stump is still elevated. They sleep-Jack feels safe in Robby’s arms. He always has
———————————————————————————————————
Jack has taken the last couple days off while he waits for his new leg. He is going to work tomorrow, whether he has the new leg or not, but for now he is just going to chill at home and try to enjoy the time off. Jack is sitting on the back porch getting some fresh air, leg propped on a pillow, the stump shrinker chafing against his skin. The house is quiet—Robby had taken the twins to soccer, Beau was at a friend’s, and Ellie was supposed to be doing homework upstairs. Instead, she appears in the doorway, arms crossed, eyes red.
Jack looks up when he hears the sniffles. “Trouble?”
She just shrugs. “Math sucks. And I bombed my chem quiz. And I hate everything.”
Jack pats the couch offering her the seat next to him. “Come sulk beside me.”
She flops down, and puts her head on his shoulder. “You’re not at work.”
“Prosthetic’s busted. I’m grounded until I get a new one or I work up the courage to be the one-legged doctor crutching my way from trauma to trauma.”
“You hate this, I just know it.”
Jack chuckles. “I do.”
They sit in silence for a moment, the afternoon light casting soft shadows across the deck.
Ellie speaks first. “Do you ever feel like you’re falling behind? Like everyone else is moving and you’re just… stuck?”
Jack looks at her, surprised. “All the time.”
She blinked. “Really? You’re the great Dr. Abbot though”
He nods. “When I lost my leg, I thought I’d never catch up. I hated being still. I hated needing help. I hated feeling like I wasn’t me anymore.”
Ellie is quiet as she thinks about what Jack just said. “What changed?”
Jack smiles. “I realized that healing isn’t falling behind. It’s rebuilding. And sometimes, the strongest thing you can do is let yourself be still.” She leans into him. “That’s what you said to me when my leg broke. ‘The strongest part is asking for help.’” Jack kisses her hair. “You’re a smart kid.”
She smirks. “I get it from you.”
Jack looks out into the trees lining their property, watching the wind stir the lilacs in the garden. His leg aches. His pride still stings. But his daughter is beside him, and the house is full of love.
He wasn’t falling behind. He was exactly where he needed to be.
After a few minutes, Ellie speaks again. “You never talk about when it first happened and you came home. If it hurts to much you don’t have too, but I have always been curious”
“Yeah, I’ll tell you about it pumpkin”
FLASHBACK:
Jack hated the couch.
He hated the way it swallowed him, the way the cushions shifted under his weight, the way the blanket tangled around his stump like a reminder of what he is missing. He will never be 100% all him again. He hated the sound of cartoons in the background, the smell of antiseptic from his bandages, and the way the prosthetic catalog sat untouched on the coffee table.
Most of all, he hated feeling useless.
Robby was in the kitchen, making grilled cheese, hoping to get Jack to eat something-it been a while since Jack had an appetite. Just looking at his stump all wrapped up made him sick to his stomach. Jack could hear him humming—some old Motown tune—and it made him irrationally angry.
He shifted, wincing as pain flared through his hip. The temporary socket rubbed raw. The new prosthetic was weeks away. Until then, he was stuck. Grounded. Dependent.
“Dammit,” Jack muttered, slamming the remote onto the floor.
Robby appeared in the doorway, wiping his hands on a dish towel. “You okay?”
“No,” Jack snapped. “I’m not okay. I’m laid up like a broken appliance while you do everything. I can’t work. I can’t drive. I can’t even chase Dana’s kids towards the stairs or around the backyard when they come over.”
Robby stepped closer. “You’re healing.”
“I’m useless.”
“You’re recovering.”
Jack’s voice cracked. “I hate this.”
Robby sat beside him, careful not to jostle the leg. “I know.”
Jack looked away. “You didn’t sign up for this.”
Robby reached for his hand. “I signed up for you. All of you. This isn’t a detour—it’s part of the road.”
Jack’s eyes shimmered. “I don’t know how to be this version of me.”
“You don’t have to know yet,” Robby said. “You just have to let me walk beside you while you figure it out.”
Jack leaned into him, the anger softening into grief. “I feel like I’m watching my life from the waiting room.”
Robby kissed his temple. “Then let’s wait together.”
From the kitchen, Lena (Dana’s oldest) called, “Uncle Robby! Uncle Jack! Milo put ketchup on the grilled cheese!”
Jack chuckled through the tears. “He’s a monster.”
Robby smiled. “And you’re still their hero.”
END OF FLASHBACK
“Oh, so abba has always used food as a way to try to make people feel better”
“Yeah, pumpkin he has”
Jack can hear Robby pull into the driveway and the twins jumping out of the car. They come sprinting outside and jump on him. He is so glad that he has his kids and Robby to remind him of his worth while he struggles.
_________________________________________________________________________
Jack’s new prosthetic isn’t ready yet, perks of going through the VA. You would think that a soldier who lost a part of one of his limbs fighting for his country wouldn’t have to wait so long, but the system sucks. He is tired of being on the couch, so he decides to put his pride aside and be the one-legged doc on crutches. Robby was hesitant at first, but agreed when Jack said he would pick up a dayshift so Robby could hover and watch over him.
The elevator doors opened with a soft ding, and Jack steps into the ER like a man returning from exile—except this time, his crutches sparkled like a disco ball. He spent a few minutes up on the roof gathering his thoughts and stressing about the day ahead.
The left crutch is wrapped in neon duct tape with hand-drawn flames. The right has glitter stars, rainbow stickers, and a tiny “#1 Dad” badge taped near the handle. A googly eye had mysteriously appeared near the base.
Santos was the first to spot him. She blinks. “Abbot… what in the Picasso hell happened to your crutches?”
Jack grins. “The Crutch Club happened. Four members, all under six feet tall, very persuasive.”
Cassie leaned over the nurses’ station, squinting. “Is that a sticker of a cat riding a unicorn?”
“Emery’s contribution,” Jack says proudly. “Scottie handled the glitter. Beau engineered the duct tape. Ellie supervised.”
Dana walks by, doing a double take, and gives a slow clap. “You’re either the bravest man in this hospital or the most outnumbered.”
“Both,” Jack replies. “And I wouldn’t change a thing.”
Throughout the day, staff stops him in the halls to admire the “artwork.” A few med students asked if they could borrow the idea for their own gear. One attending asked if the twins took commissions.
By the time Robby was able to check-in-the Pitt was packed with patients today and Gloria has been riding Robby for a majority of the shift, Jack was leaning against the nurses’ station, sipping coffee and basking in the attention.
Robby takes one look and burst out laughing. “They actually did it.”
Jack raised a crutch like a trophy. “I walk with pride. And glitter.”
Robby kisses his cheek. “You’re a walking masterpiece.”
Jack smiled. “I’m a walking love letter and I have our kids to thank for that”
______________________________________________________________________________
It took another 2 weeks for Jack’s new prosthetic to be ready. He decided he wanted to go alone to the fitting. Robby tried to convince him to at least let him come, but Jack said he wanted to do this by himself. Robby had already seen him relearn to walk once. Robby dropped Jack off at the center’s front door-since Jack still couldn’t drive- and told him to text when he was ready to go.
Jack has worked with the same prosthetist for his whole amputation journey. Miguel has become family, considering the number of times he has had to grab Jack’s butt and hips to stabilize him and help him to walk again. Miguel brings him into the therapy room. He has Jack sit on one of the tables and puts the new legs on Jack’s stump, checking the fit and if it is pinching Jack anywhere. This leg feels different, Jack isn’t used to It yet, and will have to learn all of it quirks. Miquel pulls Jack up and over to the dreaded parallel bars. Just looking at them causes Jack to feel his chest closing in. He tries to take a deep breath as a memory plays in his brain
Flashback:
The rehab center smelled like antiseptic and hope.
Jack sat on the edge of the parallel bars, his stump freshly wrapped, the new prosthetic gleaming beside him like a challenge. It was sleek, carbon fiber and titanium, custom-fit to his measurements. It looked like something out of a sci-fi movie. It felt like a stranger-it wasn’t skin and bones, instead a heap of metal held together with nuts and bolts. Not human, more robot
Robby stood nearby, wringing his hands together. Dana came with, she has her hand on Robby’s back, trying to calm the man a little. Robby looks a little more stressed than Jack. They both look on with wide-eyes and anticipation at the thought of Jack being vertical again.
The technician (Sammy, Miguel’s assistant) knelt beside Jack. “Ready?”
Jack hesitated. “Define ready.”
She smiled. “Just stand. That’s all.”
Jack gritted his teeth and slid the socket over his leg. It clicked into place with a soft thunk. He gripped the bars and pushed himself upright. Pain flared. Not sharp—just unfamiliar. His balance shifted. The room tilted. He almost sat back down.
But then he saw the face of his younger self. He wasn’t smiling. He was watching. Waiting. Jack took a breath and stepped forward.
One step. Then another.
The prosthetic wobbled. His muscles screamed. But he didn’t fall.
Robby’s voice was soft. “You’re doing it.”
Jack looked down at his feet. One real. One forged and built to withstand the weight of holding Jack up. Both moving.
He laughed—half disbelief, half joy. “I’m walking.”
Dana clapped and shouted, “Go, Soldier!”
Robby stepped forward, eyes shining. “You’re not just walking. You’re coming back.”
Jack leaned against the bars, exhausted but exhilarated. “I didn’t think I’d get here.”
“You didn’t have to,” Robby said. “We believed enough for both of us.”
Jack looked at his husband, the women who has become like a sister to them, and his leg and felt something shift. He wasn’t broken. He was rebuilding.
END OF FLASHBACK
“Jack, you with me” Miguel said
“Yeah, sorry, just in my head”
“All good. You’ve done this before and you can do it again. Real fast question, where’s Robby?”
“In the car. I needed to know I could do this before I let him or the kids see the new leg”
——————————————————
Jack has had his new leg for a couple weeks now, but the kids and Robby still haven’t seen him use it yet. He left early this morning, whispering into Robby’s ear that he was going to head to the forest preserve to get some air. Jack stood at the edge of the walking trail, the new prosthetic snug and steady beneath him. He wasn’t really looking around, he thought he was alone out here-it’s 8am on a Sunday-not many people hit the trails at this time. When he looked up he saw the kids fanned out like a cheer squad—Scottie with pom-poms made of ribbons, Emery holding a stopwatch, Beau filming on his phone, and Ellie pretending not to care, but clearly invested-he knew she was doing it for him. She doesn’t want to seem disappointed if this doesn’t go well. Her disappointment will just make Jack feel worse. He has been hiding the new leg from his family.
Robby stood beside them and when he made eye contact with Jack he jogged over to his husband. When he got to Jack, he rested his hand lightly on Jack’s back. “You ready?”
Jack took a breath. “Let’s find out.
He stepped forward. The leg moved smoothly, the carbon fiber joint absorbing the impact like second nature. No wobble. No hesitation. Just motion.
Scottie cheers, “Go, Legend!” Jack isn’t sure he heard her right, Legend?
Emery clicks the stopwatch. “You’re faster than I think you ever were”
Beau narrated like a sports announcer “And here comes Titanium Dad, breaking records and hearts
Ellie rolls her eyes. “You’re all ridiculous.”
Jack laughed, walking farther down the path. The breeze was soft. The pain was ‘gone’-more like forgotten for few minutes. And for the first time in weeks, he felt like himself again.
Robby caught up to him. “How’s it feel?”
Jack looked down at the leg, then up at his family. With a smile he says “Like I’m home.
They walk together—Jack, Robby, and four wildly supportive kids—into the golden light coming from the rising sun, the sound of laughter trailing behind them.
Robby and the twins ran ahead and Beau was trailing behind the group. Ellie walked side-by-side with Jack. Ellie leaned into his side with her arms crossed. “Took you long enough.”
Jack grins, angling his head towards her. “I had to make an entrance.”
The two men headed to their cars and drove home. Robby promised breakfast sandwiches to everyone before he headed into the hospital for his shift.
———————————————————
Jack stepped through the front door, walking steadily on his new leg. The fit was snug, the movement smooth, and the carbon fiber gleamed like something out of a superhero movie.
He barely had time to take a breath before—
“WELCOME BACK, TITANIUM DAD!” four voices shouted in unison.
The living room had been transformed. A banner stretched across the fireplace, hand-painted in bold, slightly smudged letters. Glitter trailed across the floor like breadcrumbs. Balloons bobbed from the backs of chairs. And in the center of it all stood the kids, beaming.
Scottie ran up first. “We named your new leg!”
Jack blinks. “You… what?”
Emery holds up a glittery sign: ‘LEGEND’. “Because it’s legendary,” he explains. “And also a leg.”
Jack laughs. “That’s terrible. I love it. Now I know why you guys were yelling that on the trail”
Beau pointed to a small sticker near the ankle-something that Jack didn’t noticed when he put the leg on in the dark this morning. “We put a lightning bolt on it. For speed.”
Ellie, standing back with her arms crossed but smiling, added, “And we made a playlist called ‘Dad’s Comeback Strut.’ It’s mostly 80s power ballads.”
Jack looks around the room, overwhelmed. “You guys did all this… for me?”
Robby steps beside him, arm around his waist. “They insisted. Said you deserved a proper welcome. So balloons, breakfast sandwiches, and a banner were in order.”
Jack looks up at Robby, “when did you guys do all this?”
“Right after you left for your walk this morning and before we came to meet you”
Jack’s voice caught. “I didn’t realize how much I needed this.”
Scottie hugs his leg—carefully. “You’re our hero, Dad. Even when you’re sitting down.”
Jack knelt—easily, smoothly, for the first time in weeks—and pulled them all into a hug. “I’m back on my feet. But I never stopped standing because of you.”
Robby smiled. “And now that you’re mobile again… you’re on dish duty.”
Jack groaned. “Should’ve stayed in rehab.”