Chapter Text
JACK
As Jack enters The Pitt and heads toward the Hub, his eyes are immediately drawn to a little girl with soft brown skin, curly black hair, and a princess crown perched atop her head. She sits happily beside Dana on a chair, and—judging by the speed at which she is talking—she seems to be talking Danas ears off.
A soft chuckle escapes his lips as he steps up to the counter, resting his arms upon it as he leans forward slightly.
“Your Royal Highness. Dana.”
Dana greets him with a knowing grin, as if he has just made a very big mistake.
“Hi, do you work here too?”
Laughing, he shakes his head.
“Yes, I work here too—though only the night shift. And who are you? I’ve never seen you here before.” Jack raises an eyebrow. His gaze flickers briefly toward Dana before his eyes land back on the little girl.
“That’s because I spend most of my time with Nana. But she had to go to work on short notice today, so I’m here until Ammā is finished... how much longer, Dana?”
“One hour, sweetie.”
“Oh.” She looks down, a sad expression on her little face, before looking back up at Jack. “I’m Jiya. Mommy said I’m not supposed to talk to strangers, but I guess since you work here, it’s okay.”
“I’m Jack. Your mom is right, of course, but thanks for trusting me, Jiya.”
“Why are you here already?” Dana asks him, while sorting through files and various documents.
“Robby called me. Apparently, something came up, and he had to leave early?”
Dana simply raises an eyebrow. “He didn’t say anything to me. I didn’t even see him leave... he probably took the back exit.”
Jack nods, his eyes landing on Jiya, who is scrunching up her face with a rather unhappy expression.
“Hey, Jiya, is everything okay?”
Jiya looks at him with wide eyes and nods. “I don’t like Doctor Robby. He’s mean to Mom and talks to me like I’m stupid. But I’m not stupid, Jack!”
“Of course not, Princess Jiya.”
He took a closer look at Jiya. Her nose, lips, and eyes—as well as the entire shape of her face—struck him as remarkably familiar, almost as if she were a Mini-Mohan. But Samira didn’t have a child, did she?
“Hey, Dana, is Dr. Mohan here?”
“South 20. Broken arm.”
“It’s Mo-hun, Jack. Not Mo-han.” Jiya looks at him disapprovingly.
“Oh.” He looks down in embarrassment. “Thanks, Jiya. Dr. Mo-hun never corrected me. I’ll do better from now on—I promise.”
“Thank you, Jackie. Nana told me Mommy doesn’t like correcting other people at the hospital, because Dr. Robby always tears her apart.”
So Jiya was Samira Mohan’s child after all—and hearing her speak about her mother with such sadness broke his heart.
“Hey, Jiya,” he waited until she looked at him with her familiar brown eyes. “Everything is going to be okay, alright? Your mom is the best and smartest doctor this hospital has ever seen.”
Suddenly big fat tears roll down Jiya’s face, and without a second thought, he steps behind the counter and gathers the little girl into his arms. Jiya buries her face in the crook of his neck as her small arms wrap around his neck, clinging tightly to him. He barely managed to straighten himself back up when he sees Samira turn the corner—stethoscope draped around her neck, a file in her hands, hair damp and standing slightly away from her head—as she comes to a halt right in the middle of the hallway, a look of concern etched on her face.
She has never looked as beautiful as she did right now to him.
“Kanna?”
Samira approaches him with quick steps. She sets down the file she was holding before her hand lands gently on her daughter’s back.
“What happened?”
“We were talking; she corrected me on how to pronounce Mohan—Dr. Mo-hun.” Jack gave her a knowing look. “And then the conversation circled back to Robby. Apparently your mother talked to her about him?”
“Kanna, Pātti never should’ve told you about him.”
Jiya throws herself into her mother’s arms—her legs still wrapped around Jack—leaving Jack with no choice but to slip his arm around Samira’s waist and pull her closer to his side to steady her.
“Can we go home now, Ammā? Please.”
“Not yet, Jiya. I still have fifty minutes of work left.”
Jack’s thumb gently strokes over Samira’s hip as his grip tightens slightly, pulling her even closer to his side.
For a brief moment, he glances at Dana, who eyes him with a knowing look; Jack realizes instantly that he is in deep shit if his feelings for Samira are so crystal clear for everyone to see. He wonders if Samira knows what he feels for her, too. But then he remembers that she never seemed to notice when he flirted with her right in front of the whole department—he sizes up for a second; no wonder everyone knows how he feels about her. Who the fuck is so stupid and flirts with an R4 in front of everyone?
“Dr. Abbot? Dr. Abbot?!” Samira looks at him with concern, a furrow of worry creasing between her brows.
“Yes?” Jack clears his throat as the heat rushes to his face. “What is it?”
“Could you keep an eye on Jiya until I am done? Provided no urgent case comes in.”
He looks from Dana to Samira in surprise.
“What about Dana?”
“While you were off in your own little world, Jiya asked me if she could stay with you. I have no idea how you managed that, but usually it takes her a while to warm up to new people.”
“I like Jackie, Ammā,” Jiya murmurs into her mother’s shoulder. Jiya gives Samira a kiss on the cheek, before she throws herself back into Jack’s arms and snuggles into him, as if she had done so many times before.
He gently rubs her back, before meeting Samira’s soft, brown doe eyes. “No problem at all; I can look after her. Being the attending definitely has its perks sometimes.”
Jack winks at her and settles into the chair Jiya had occupied earlier. The little girl immediately snuggles deeper into his arms, and his heart blossoms with a love he has never felt for anyone before. He wonders if this is how it feels for every new parent—he doesn't want to say that he is Jiya's father, because he isn't at all, yet he already knows that he will do everything for Samira's daughter, provided it is agreed beforehand with Samira and she gives her explicit OK.
“Thank you. As you know, I don’t like leaving early unless it’s an emergency.”
“I know, Samira. But if it were up to me, you could head out right now. I wouldn’t mind at all.”
She smiles at him, as her hand runs through her daughter’s hair.
“Unfortunately, I still have a case waiting for me. But as soon as that’s done, I’m leaving—promise.”
“No problem at all. Let’s go, Dr. Mohan, it is time to save lives.”
Grinning, he watches her walk away. Maybe he really should man up and ask her out on a date. She was, after all, only going to be an R4 for a five more months before leaving PTMC to start working at Presby. He couldn’t blame her for quitting, not with the way Robby was constantly mistreating her.
With a sigh, he pulls Jiya close and breathes in her childlike scent.
Oh—he was in trouble.