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Face shield off. Mask off. Gown off. Gloves off. Wash hands. Sanitize hands.
Breathe.
Get back out there.
The routine was ingrained into Dr. Jack Abbot’s bones. Not only did it prevent contamination and the spread of pathogens, it served as a way to ground himself after every trauma he worked on. Being able to rip off the soiled clothes and cleanse himself physically as well as mentally. It was something he didn't get in Iraq; no time for a sterile field when your squad was bleeding out on the rubble.
And so he cherished the time to stop; to think and gather his thoughts before moving into the next emergency.
His routine was interrupted when Lena popped her head into the prep room.
“Got a phone call for ya, Cap,” she informed. “And another trauma about ten minutes out on the rig.”
“Thanks, Lena,” Jack sighed, drying his hands quickly before following her out into the hub. He leaned over the counter, grabbing the cell phone the charge nurse held out. “Abbot.”
The color drained from his face as the voice on the other end of the line spoke frantically.
“Woah, Andrew, slow down. What happened? What's going on?” he questioned, standing up straight.
Jack was silent as his brother spoke, his voice breaking in spots.
“Does Janine- Smurf, does she know that you know?” he asked, making Lena raise an eyebrow.
A pause.
“Okay, I’ll get there. Get a burner when you get out and call my cell and then I'll call you when I get to the airport, okay? We’ll figure this out together.”
Robby had a preternatural sense for when Jack was upset. Even though the phone call had been quiet on his end; Robby had immediately perked up at the sound of distress in his voice. He quickly made his way to his partner from where he had been sitting and charting.
“Everything okay?” Robby asked, peering over Abbot’s shoulder as he gave Lena back the hospital phone and took out his personal cell.
“Andrew got hooked this morning for failing a drug test,” Jack explained quietly, pulling up the outgoing flight list from Pittsburgh International. “He thinks Janine is drugging his food.”
Robby's eyes went wide as he blew out an exaggerated breath. “Oh… wow.”
“There's a flight to San Diego that boards in two hours,” he mused, pocketing his phone. “I don't know if he’ll come back with me… but I've gotta try. I've gotta get him out of there.”
His partner nodded, resting a hand on his lower back. “Do what you need to. I’ll let Adamson know and that you're taking the next couple days off for a family emergency.” He spun Jack towards him, looking him in the eye and steeling himself when he could see the anxiety that they harbored. “Keep me updated; call me when you land. I'll get the guestroom ready just in case.”
Robby pressed a chaste quick to the younger man’s curls before giving his shoulders a squeeze and turning away.
“Michael!” Jack called, before he could leave the hub to find where Dr. Adamson had gone off to. The older man turned, and Jack mustered a smile before mouthing “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
He hadn't said it out loud, or even mouthed it the way that Jack had. But Jack knew.
---
Abbot didn't get the appeal of beaches. Just the idea of sand getting between his prosthetic and his stump made him want to high tail it back to Pennsylvania. The heat didn't help either; the sweat on his back reminding him too much of his time overseas.
The ocean was pretty though.
The sound of the waves and the gulls calling to each other was soothing. And the sun sparkling on the water dazzled his eyes through his dark sunglasses just enough for him to get lost in it.
He could've sat on that bench forever, his arms over the back as he lounged with spread legs. He was jostled out of his daydreaming when a firm hand gripped onto his bicep.
Jack turned around to see Andrew frantically looking around. He wore a baseball hat and sun glasses as well, looking eerily similar to the man sitting on the bench. It took him a moment, but Jack stood up and enveloped the younger man in a tight embrace. It was like hugging a lamp post, Jack thought idly, unyielding and unresponsive.
“Come on,” Andrew said when Jack had finally let him go, “it's too open here.”
He followed his brother to the sporty rental car that Jack had commandeered. Andrew hopped into the driver’s seat, leaving Jack to go around to the passenger side and haul himself in. They pulled away, Andrew managing the traffic like a pro.
“Are you gonna tell me where we're going?” Jack questioned, as he shot a text to Robby.
With Andrew now. Not sure where we're heading.
*location shared*
Andrew didn't take his eyes off the road; his hands white-knuckling the steering wheel. “Parole office,” he said stilted, “made an emergency relocation appointment with my handler.”
Jack raised an eyebrow. “Emergency relocation?”
Finally, Andrew turned to look at Jack. He couldn't see his eyes behind the sunglasses he wore, but he could see the fear, the exhaustion on his face. He looked substantially older than the last time Jack had seen him, even though it had only been a matter of weeks.
“I tested positive for LSD. Twice,” Andrew grunted, “I don't do that shit. I've never done that shit. You've gotta believe me, Jack.”
Jack reached out to put a hand on his brother's shoulder. “I do. I believe you. What makes you think Janine is drugging you?”
It took a moment for the name to register in his mind. He obviously wasn't used to people calling Smurf by her actual name.
“She keeps making me food. Smoothies. All this shit that would be normal if she wasn't deliberately giving me certain portions. And after I eat, my head feels all… foggy. And I get cold. So cold. Can't function so I just curl up in bed with as many blankets as I can find.
Jack nodded along. He wasn't unfamiliar with the practice of LSD microdosing, and the symptoms matched well.
“Okay. What's your plan?”
Andrew’s right index finger tapped on the steering wheel, a nervous tick that Jack recognized because he did the same thing. He had to supress a smile; nurture was important but there were some things that nature overpowered.
“I set up this appointment with my handler,” he explained. “I'm gonna request a relocation. To get away from Smurf. I can't tell him that she's been drugging me, but I can say that she's pressuring me to take them.”
Jack knew he should bite his tongue, but he never was particularly good at shutting up when he should.
“Why not tell them she's been drugging you?” he challenged, “it would help your case. Maybe she'd finally get what she deserves.”
The steering wheel creaked under Andrew’s grip; his jaw clenching hard.
“You don't understand,” he basically growled, “They're my family.”
One of these days, Jack wanted to say, we’re gonna talk about your unwavering loyalty to people who have done nothing but use and hurt you.
Instead, he changed the subject.
“And this emergency relocation, where are you planning on going?”
Andrew took his eyes off of the road for a second, giving his brother a look that Jack knew immediately.
“Yeah of course.” he nodded, “Robby’ll have the guest room ready for you by the time we get back…. unless you'd rather somewhere else? We could get you a hotel room for a couple of nights while we scout out some apartments.”
For the first time since getting into the car, Andrew relaxed, albeit slightly. Jack counted it as a win.
“I'd like to stay with you and Robby,” Andrew said quietly. “If that's okay.”
Jack smiled, making his eyes crinkle behind his sunglasses. “Yeah. We'd love that.”
------
“My parole officer, Jon Mengyan; he's a good guy. Hasn't been worked over yet.” Andrew explained as the two brothers got out of the car. “I called him before I picked you up.”
Jack nodded. “Anything in particular you need me to say? Not to say?”
Andrew stopped in his tracks, giving Jack a look that he knows he'd given many med students in the past.
“Don't mention Smurf or the others. Just tell him about yourself and Robby. I'll handle everything else.”
Finally feeling like they were on the same page (or at least in the same book), the two of them entered the small gray building. The inside was nearly empty, not quite the clinical emptiness of an open trauma room, but the kind of empty that reminded Jack of an abandoned building. There were hard benches on the sides of an open room and two receptionist windows covered with thick plastic shields. One of those shields had a spiderwebbed crack running across the top that made Jack’s spine tick.
There was one other person in the near-empty room, a young man wearing a crisp black uniform with dark hair cropped close to his head.
“Cody,” he called, catching both of their attention. The officer gave Andrew a nod before reaching out his hand. “You must be Dr. Abbot,” he greeted, a genuine smile on his face. “Officer Mengyan. Andrew’s told me a lot about you.”
Jack shook his hand firmly. “Please, Jack is fine. I left Dr. Abbot back in Pittsburgh.”
The officer gave a polite nod. “Why don't we go into my office and continue that conversation we had on the phone?”
Mengyan’s office was much more welcoming than the waiting area. It was still sparse, but the chairs were cushioned and his desk was a dark brown instead of the slate gray of the rest of the building. A few Knick-nacks were placed on shelves behind the desk and a dated photo of an older man with a police K9 sat framed on the wall.
“So,” Mengyan started, sitting behind the desk as he gestured to the two seats, which the brothers took. “Please tell me why you think you should be granted an emergency relocation after you just violated your parole.”
Andrew crossed his arms and glared at the officer. His lip twitched; whether it was in annoyance or nervousness, Jack wasn't sure.
“Smurf gave me the acid. Pressured me to use it.” he deadpanned. Before Mengyan could butt in, he continued, “she doesn't have anymore. Just the stuff she gave me.”
The officer across from them was very obviously not buying it. Jack adjusted himself in his seat, leaning forward a bit to take the weight off of his prosthetic. He was about to speak when Andrew started again.
“If I stay in Oceanside, I'm going to end up back in prison.” His voice got quieter. “I can't go back to Folsom, Jon. I've gotta get out of here.”
The look on Mengyan’s face softened noticeably. Andrew hadn't told Jack about his time in Folsom, but he had a feeling that he had confessed to some of what had happened to the officer.
Mengyan sighed and seemed to consider what Andrew had said before nodding.
“Okay, Andrew could you step out so I can talk to your brother for a moment?”
Andrew gave Jack a look that was as close to fear as Jack believed he could show. He set a hand on his brother’s shoulder and gave it a tight squeeze.
“I'll be fine, just wait outside.”
All he got in response was pursed lips and a stiff nod before Andrew walked out of the office and shut the door behind him.
Mengyan seemed to deflate as soon as the door shut. He put his head in his hands and shook it slightly.
“You’re sure that you can handle him? Your brother is a crazy son-of-a-bitch.”
Jack bristled. “Kid, what has Andrew told you about me?”
Mengyan raised an eyebrow at the doctor, who suddenly seemed to take up a lot more space in the room with his brother gone. Before the officer had a chance to reply, Jack continued.
“Aside from being the head night shift attending at one of the busiest trauma centers in the eastern United States, I’ve had four combat deployments to Iraq and I volunteer as a tactical EMS Doctor with SWAT and at the VA on a regular basis. I deal with more violence and chaos in one week than you probably see in a month.
Do not get me wrong, I am aware that my brother has a very fucked up past. But I am confident that that has very little to do with who he is as a person and everything to do with the fact that his mental illness has been exploited by his bitch of a mother for nearly forty fucking years.”
Jack took a breath, leaning his forearms on the desk and softening at the slightly intimidated look on the young officer’s face.
“Look, you're doing your job. I get that. But there comes a point where you have to realize that not only will Andrew do better the farther he is from Janine, but the better things around here will be with one less Cody to worry about. He just lost his- our sister. He needs somewhere to recover and grieve away from the bat shit crazy people he calls family.”
Mengyan was quiet. He didn't back down from Jack’s eye contact, but he didn't quite meet it either way. The tension weighed on Jack’s spine as he waited for the officer's response.
Finally, he sighed.
“I'll draft up the paper work and send it to the judge before I get off shift. I can't guarantee that he’ll sign off on it, and even if he does, the parole department near you will need to do a walk-through of the residence that Andrew will be staying at.”
Jack nodded, trying to keep the relief that flooded his chest in check. “Okay, that's fine. That's great.”
Mengyan stood up to let Andrew back into the room, who promptly took his seat next to Jack once more. He gave the doctor a curious look.
“I'll need you both to go over the terms of Andrew’s parole again,” Mengyan instructed, “and there are a couple of forms you'll have to fill out as well, Dr. Abbot.”
Jack didn't even feel the urge to correct the man on his title. He just set his hand back upon Andrew’s shoulder before giving him a subdued grin.
“You're letting me transfer?” Andrew asked the officer, a slight waver in his voice.
Mengyan sighed again rummaging through a file cabinet in the back corner, “It's up to the judge and the parole department in Pittsburgh, but against my better judgement, yes. Your brother is very convincing.” He sat back down at his desk before skiing a stack of papers towards them. “You're lucky to have him.”
Andrew didn't respond with words; only a nod and a swallow. Jack couldn't help the tentative smile that wormed its way onto his face as he dove head first into the stack of papers.
-----
“So, it's all in the judge’s hands now apparently,” Jack explained into the phone.
Robby was on the other end, the soft noise of water boiling in the background as he made dinner. “He give you any sort of timeline?”
“He said that since it's an emergency relocation that it would go to the top of the docket, but not to get our hopes too high. The parole board still needs to check our place before anything can actually happen.”
Robby hummed. “I'll make sure the house is cleaned up; throw out all of our illegal drugs and guns.”
“Don't even fucking joke about that,” Jack groaned. “Actually, can you take my pistol out of the bedside drawer and put it in the safe? I don't want to give them any easy outs.”
“Of course,” the other man obliged, “Anything else that you can think of?”
Jack shook his head, knowing that he couldn't see. “Not right now, but I'll text you if anything pops up. Andrew should be back any minute with beers so maybe a brew will get the wheels turning.”
There was a chuckle on the other side of the line. “Because you're such a genius when you’re off your ass.”
“I'm a brilliant drunk,” Jack retorted, a tired smirk working its way on his face.
“Whatever you say, Jack Rabbit. Just keep your shirt on and don't scare your brother away before he gets to Pittsburgh.”
A knock on the door sounded a few minutes later, prompting Jack to grab his forearm crutches from the side of the bed.
“Gimme a sec,” he grunted as another knock came from the door.
Looking through the peephole in the hotel room door, there was Andrew with a pack of beer in one hand and a grocery bag in the other.
“It’s Pope,” he called gruffly from the other side.
“Yeah I can fucking see that,” Jack said as he opened the door. Andrew took a step in before stopping and looking down.
“You're missing a leg,” he commented, raising an eyebrow.
“Nothing gets past you, huh?”
Andrew squinted at the older man before moving past him. He did a quick scan of the room before setting down the beer and the grocery bag.
“This is a nice hotel.”
Jack took the beers from where Andrew had set them on the bed, grabbed two, and promptly put the rest in the mini fridge.
“You should see the ones the hospital puts us up at for conferences,” Jack mused, “What's in the bag?”
“Mac and cheese for Lena,” he responded. “Planning on swinging by before I go back to the condo tonight.” He sat on the edge of the bed watching intently as Jack moved around the space, searching for a bottle opener.
“That's Baz’s daughter right?”
Andrew hummed affirmatively and gestured for Jack to give him the bottles. Jack handed them over and watched as his brother popped the caps off using the edge of the bedside table. He handed one of the opened beers to Jack and they clinked the necks together before settling down, Andrew on the side of the bed and Jack on the arm chair nearby, crutches placed off to the side.
“You never told me you were missing a leg.”
Jack shrugged. “Never came up.”
The answer seemed to satisfy Andrew.
“When you were outside the door you referred to yourself as Pope,” Jack commented. “Do you prefer that over Andrew?”
Andrew crossed his arms over his chest. “Just habit,” he said quietly. “Only people that call me Andrew are you and Jon and Smurf. And Cath sometimes.”
“Would you rather me call you something else?”
There was a moment where Andrew didn't respond. Jack almost repeated himself, thinking maybe his brother hadn't heard him. But then, he responded quietly, looking out the window behind Jack.
“Julia used to call me Andy.”
He took a long swig of his beer, refusing to make eye contact with Jack, whose face had gone soft.
“Is it okay if I call you Andy?” Jack asked, quickly adding “If not that's okay, I can-”
“I'd like that.”
Jack nodded. “Okay then. Andy it is.”
He finally met Jack’s gaze. The younger man’s eyes were wet with unshed tears, making them look greener than usual.
Deep in his chest, Jack felt a sort of magnetism that compelled him to maneuver over to the bed with a single crutch. He sat down next to his brother, who simply put his head on his shoulder. Jack’s arm immediately wrapped around him and pulled him close.
“I miss her so much, man.” Andy admitted with a choked breath. “She didn't deserve any of this shit.”
It wasn't often that Jack was at a loss for words, but he knew that, in this moment, there was nothing he could say that would comfort his brother. And so, he simply held him close and swore to himself that he wouldn't let go. No matter what.