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Another grueling nightshift, another morning spent on the roof. Robby’s gentle teasing and turn of phrase hid thinly veiled concern, and if this was another time in Jack’s life, he'd understand. Before, when work was over, he went home to a silent house. The same house that held memories of a dead woman and what felt to Jack to be a dead man as well. Ever since he had met her, however, everything changed. Mornings were now something he looked forward to.
Robby and him never really talked about the positive impact she had on his life. They never had to. Every time he had found Jack on the roof since they started going steady, he had stayed firmly on the inside of the rail, elbows resting on the cool metal.
They walked down the stairs, exchanging handover details before they get into it properly. Only a few criticals left from the night crew. Jack prided himself on having a very efficient crew. He gave Ellis a good pat on the shoulder as he was leaving, she had done a few tough procedures that night, but he knew she could do it.
So, all-in-all, Jack Abbot was in a good mood leaving work. He drove with the radio on, fingers drumming to the beat reverberating softly through the car speakers. It was a beautiful day, maybe they could go for a walk later. Pulling up to the house, he admired the potted plants you had lovingly bought to liven the place up. He unlocked the front door and all but skipped through it.
The house was silent. Huh. That was odd. As long as Jack had known his partner, you'd been as bad a sleeper as him. And always an early riser. He glanced at his watch - 7:45 AM. you were sleeping in.
“Baby…?” His gravelly voice rang out. He called again once he got into the main hallway and heard a faint ‘hm’ in response coming from the bedroom.
He crept into the bedroom, looking into two glassy eyes that looked sleepily back at him. He knelt beside her and took her face in his hand, immediately frowning at the heat in her cheeks.
“Hi darling,” You began sleepily, “how was work?”
He pressed his lips to your forehead, sneakily checking you temperature again. Hot, hot.
“Fine, good. Same old same old.” He replied, distracted. “What’s up with you, sleepyhead?”
“Eugh, slept through my alarm, I guess.” He could hear the phlegm in your throat.
“Yeah? Lay back, pretty girl.” You didn’t need to be told twice before flopping down, no energy in your body.
Jack rooted around in the bedside drawer before finding what he was looking for.
“Open.” He said simply, making an ‘ah’ sound instinctively. Your eyes remained closed and you had no idea he had a thermometer, but your mouth still opened. He appreciated your utter trust in him.
“Keep that there for a sec.” Not that you had any energy to spit it out. Jack had walked away again. It hadn’t beeped, but he knew you had a fever. He popped some Advil into his hand and filled your favourite water bottle.
Goods in hand, he checked in again. The thermometer sounded when he walked in. Looking over it, he softly tut tut tut’ed and shook his head. 102.4° F.
“Am I dying?” You murmured, tiredly.
“Definitely not well, I’m afraid. You’ll have to try harder to get away from me, though. Sit up for me, honey.” Jack cradled you into a seating position and put the tablets into your hands. You swallowed without asking what they were, accepting the water bottle after.
He maneuvered himself onto the other side of you, switching the wall-mounted TV onto some nature documentary for some quiet background noise for the both of you. Turning the brightness down halfway, He leans down to kiss you properly for the first time today.
“You’ll get sick.” You protested but he laughed into your mouth.
“I think I’ve got a better tolerance than that, sweet thing.”
Your eyes closed again, but he could feel you trying to wake yourself up.
“Go back to sleep. Your body needs this. Besides, I’m napping anyway.” He lazily threw one arm around you, laying both of you down. Jack pressed one more kiss onto your nose when he finally felt you relax. He tried to watch the documentary for a while but drifted off not too long after. You stayed curled around each other.
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The next time you woke, the sunshine was poking through the half-drawn blinds. Jack knows you like to wake up to a little sun, wherever possible. You register something in your mouth. He was taking your temperature again. You reached for your phone, careful not to dislodge the thermometer - 12:06 PM.
It bleeped and you took the liberty of taking it out yourself. 101.8° F. Jack walked in just as you were looking and snatched it out of your hand, shooting you a disapproving look. You couldn’t help the smile that bloomed on your lips.
“It’s going down. Feeling better?” He pressed kiss after kiss onto your shoulder.
“A bit. Thank you for taking care of me. I know you’re sick of sick people when you get out of The Pitt.” You frown, guilt gnawing at your stomach. He kissed the corners of your frown.
“Nonsense. I’ll always take care of you, sweet girl.”