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The full ED echoed with the din of a hundred conversations, each its own little chamber play, all together a palpable rush of sound that Jack found comforting. As he stepped out of Trauma 1, leaving the nurses to prep Howard for transpo, he was reminded of his residency, of Iraq, of Afghanistan, of TEMS missions—a cacophony drowning out the discordant notes of his own thoughts. He caught his smile before it bloomed again; he shouldn't be so happy when the kids were so very miserable. They might get the wrong idea. Or the right one.
As he thought it, he clocked a familiar bun in the crowd. Parker's locs bounced as she marched through the ED, headed toward the ambulance entrance, her bag slung over her shoulder. Three seconds and she'd be a memory.
Jack barked out, "Ellis, sitrep."
Parker pulled up short, her head whipping his way, surprise in her face. As soon as she caught sight of him, that surprise turned to mockery. "Major Jackass, reporting for duty," she drawled as she joined Jack in the little well of space off BH 2.
"That's 'Major Jackass, sir,'" he drawled right back, shooting her a haughty look just for the smile.
Parker laughed in his face. "That'll be the day."
Jack grinned, tipping his head in respect. "How was the depo?"
At that, Parker actually rolled her eyes. "Rich white lady trying to blame her child abuse on us. Same as it ever was."
"You good?"
Parker made a face and brushed off her shoulder. "They're trying to claim our spinal tap caused intellectual decline. As opposed to the hypoxia from measles pneumonia."
"A spinal causing brain damage?" Jack scoffed.
"Not even bothering to propose a mechanism of action. For we are cursed to suffer the reign of maximum stupidity," she said, waving a hand to encompass the whole damn world.
"Ain't that the truth," he muttered. He knew it was misleading to think things used to be better, but some days it felt like everyone had signed away their sense and forgot to include Jack in the deal. Ignorance was bliss and all that. He wondered what that was like.
Parker jutted her chin toward him. "Why you breaking out GI Joe? You're on tonight."
Jack looked away, scanning the bustling floor, still marveling at the sound of fax machines out here. Present layered over past. "Picked up a TEMS mission. One of my guys took a hit to the throat."
"You okay?" The concern in her voice grabbed his attention, Jack looking back to see her worried eyes taking him in.
The genuine concern there had him rushing to reassure her. "Nothing I can't handle." Only after he said it did he hear the mistake. Because Parker knew him well.
Parker straightened to her full height, eye to eye with him now. "What'd you have to handle, Jack?"
He flinched at the first name, Parker only going there when shit got real. He idly marveled that a woman twenty years his junior, and his subordinate besides, could sound so much like his CO from Iraq. He should introduce her to Colonel Jacquemin. They'd probably get along.
Knowing he wouldn't get out of this, he relented, putting reassurance in his look. "A shot clipped my vest, Mohan took a look, no big deal."
Parker's eyes narrowed in calculation. "You picked up a mission today?" she asked, like that idea was just landing with her, a path she wanted to walk down—
And then Robby appeared, heading over from Trauma 1. "They're almost done pulling the Hoyer," he said to Jack, looking surprisingly calm, given the chaos. He seemed to be holding up so far, not like his manic energy during Pittfest. Jack was glad for it.
He nodded, easy. "Roger that."
Parker smiled at Robby, her abrupt shift in attitude putting Jack on edge. "Good to see you, boss. How's analog treating you?"
"Like riding a bike," Robby quipped.
"You'd know all about that," she drawled, like she couldn't help herself.
Robby dropped his chin. "Not you, too," he protested, but it was breezy, nowhere offense lived. "I can't even catch a break with people who don't work my shift."
Parker went knowing. "You're gonna miss it when there's no one to give you shit."
"Will I," he drawled, not a question.
Parker grinned, tipping her head toward Jack. "I'm surprised you're here. This one told me you'd already be off to the land of maple syrup."
Jack hooked a thumb toward Robby. "Because this one said he would be." He hoped that didn't sound as bitchy to them as it did to him.
Robby tilted his head, definitely clocking it. "I said I'm leaving today. And I am," he offered, deliberately light, nothing to see here.
"Is that what you said?" Jack shot back, equally light, but damning for it. He couldn't help but think of it—all of two days ago, Robby lazing naked in their mussed bed, a long line of heat against Jack, who'd collapsed onto the mattress, still feeling the echo of Robby's cock inside him. His fingertips swirled in the sweat of Jack's lower back, warm and intimate. I'm heading out on the fourth, so we probably won't see each other. Except that had been a load of shit and they could have seen each other. Robby just chose not to.
Robby's eyes flicked to Parker, his expression smoothing into charmer mode. The Robby who dazzled everyone else, so long as you didn't try to get too close. "Miscommunication. I'm riding out after shift tonight. Not gonna lie, I've been dreaming of the maple syrup."
"Well, I know what you can bring me," she said with an expectant sort of look.
Robby huffed a laugh, the lines around his eyes crinkling, a constellation of delight. "I'll take it under advisement." Catching sight of Dana waving him over, he nodded in farewell. "Excuse me."
Jack watched him head off for a moment, taking in those broad shoulders, slightly sloped, always bearing the weight of the world. Jack would help, if only Robby let him.
But that was a sentimental thought. He shook it off and regarded Parker. "Really?" he asked, unimpressed by her baiting.
Parker's brown eyes sparkled. "Trouble in paradise?"
At that, Jack shot her a warning look. "I can't imagine what you mean." Because while he knew that Parker had figured out something about his relationship with Robby, they hadn't talked about it directly, nor did Jack have any intention of doing so. He didn't need her all up in his business. She saw too much as it was.
But Parker didn't back down, still impish, like she knew something and was delighted to share. "Wanna hear the hot nurse goss?"
...shit. He really did, but asking would just encourage her, which he shouldn't allow.
Parker read him like a fuckin' book—dammit—and grinned. "I'm taking that as a yes," she said, smug. Then she dipped her voice. "It turns out your boy's gone all cool on Hastings."
Surprise slid down Jack's spine, then up again, stealing through his chest to settle in his gut. "He's not my—you know about that?" he asked, not loving how his voice hitched on it. Robby had let him know about Hastings, as he always did with his little extracurricular activities, but he'd said he was trying to keep it quiet. Because Robby hated being the subject of work gossip. Which was real rich for a guy who insisted on dating people at work.
Parker leveled him with a deeply unimpressed look. "Do I know about Robby fucking around with another black woman under this roof? Gee, let's think."
Jack held up his hands. "Easy. I just didn't know it was common knowledge."
"Oh, the circle is small, but she was warned," Parker said, with a hint of bite to it.
Not for the first time, Jack found himself deeply curious about the conversations between Parker and Collins. They'd done their residencies together, close despite the age gap and wildly different personalities. When Parker was around Robby, she often sought his favor—as everyone did from the boss—but when apart, she sometimes had this edge about him, one Jack couldn't get a read on. It wasn't dislike, exactly, but it was some kind of awareness. His gut said it had to do with whatever Collins had told her.
Jack shook off the thought. Not the time. And probably not his business, in the end, despite Robby constantly shoving his business in Jack's face, like he was trying to make a spectacle of it.
And then there was what Parker was saying, what Jack's brain had been dancing around. "I hadn't heard that," he finally said, thinking about Robby and Hastings. It made sense for him to break it off, he supposed. Robby was leaving for three months. And it was never anything serious. Unless..."She nursing a broken heart?"
Parker did a kind of half-shrug thing that meant maybe-yes, maybe-no, it remained to be seen. "You know how people get about him." Then her expression sharpened, eyes taking him in. "Better than anyone, I'd say. So the question is: who's really nursing a broken heart?"
Jack huffed a breath, his back going up at the implication lacing in her words. "What are you talking about?"
"The guy picking up a TEMS mission. Before his night shift. On the day his...friend leaves for three months," she said, sharp like a 10-blade, ready to slice. She knew him too fucking well.
But Jack hadn't had interrogation training for nothing. He stared her down, pulling on the major, the guy who could send corporals fleeing with a single look. "Something you want to say there, Parker?"
"How dedicated you are to serving the good people of Pittsburgh," she said, the sarcasm as thick as it was wide.
Jack nodded grandly, treating it as serious in a way that would be maddening. "You're welcome."
Parker's mouth ticked up at the corners, rueful. "We're all shading Robby for his little death-wish machine, but you? You figured out a way to institutionalize that shit. Dodging bullets chasing bad guys. And thank you for your service," she drawled, sketching a mocking salute.
He shifted, the lurch in his gut calling it a direct hit. "I do what others can't," he said, clipped. Because that was certainly true.
"You go from that war to this war and back again, always going going going, gotta keep the blood pumping, the mind focused. Robby gets shit for his coping mechanism. You? You get admired." She huffed an amused breath. "It's no wonder you can't quit each other. Like looking in a mirror."
Jack stilled at the insight, awareness creeping down his spine, the sense of being suddenly seen.
But then, Parker always had seen too much. "You my therapist now?" he finally ground out, a weak effort, but it was all he had. He hadn't expected this from her, to be so ruthlessly stripped down and flayed for her perusal, all the way to the marrow.
Parker stared him down, unrepentant. "Run it by Stan. I'd love to hear his take."
Which was a way for Parker to force him to get into it with Stan. He shot her a cutting look. "That'll do," he said, slipping into the old formality of the superior officer.
"Ooh, Major Jackass rises again," she snarked. But after a moment, her expression softened, going a shade wry. "You know what's a hell of a thing? Even recognizing all this self-destructiveness...I do admire it. Just a little." She shook her head, her locs swaying. "Hell of a thing."
He shot her a disgruntled look. "Man, I was checking on you. And this is what I get?"
"How dare anyone give a shit," she snarked back. But her gaze was heavy, a physical press against his skin. "Mohan took a look?"
Jack felt the warmth of her care spreading all through him. It was deep and true like Robby's, but without all the thorns. He'd claimed her as his during her first intern week, but somewhere along the line, she'd claimed him right back. He didn't hate the feeling, even if that all-seeing gaze could rankle. "All squared away."
She nodded, accepting his word. "It's fine to worry about Robby, just—try not to make us worry about you, too."
Jack tipped his head. "It's not like that...but I get it. I'll check in with Stan."
Parker reached out, clasping his arm tight—
And then she let go. "Now I'm for bed. Looking forward to your 2am zombie face," she said with a smirk, starting off.
"How dare you," he called after her, dry. "I will be fresh as a daisy."
"Flower power," she called without looking back, waving a lazy peace sign.
Jack snorted in amusement, glad she couldn't see him. It would only encourage her.
"Abbot," Robby called, striding by central and heading for Trauma 1, "ready for the transfer."
Jack stowed the entire Parker conversation in a box for later. Now, he had a patient to look after. "On your six," he called, following after Robby.
As he always would.
***
Fin. Feedback is adored.