Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The night hadn't been slow per se, it was just calm for the first time in god knows how many months. Shen was off doing his charts, finally able to catch up on the mountain of paperwork that seemed to pile up more often everyday. Ellis had somehow managed to get the night off, spending it with you, his lovely and adoring wife, along with Dana, and Mel. God, what he wouldn't give to just have a few minutes alone with you.

Of course, Jack knew that wasn't possible, given that he was the main attending for the night shift. Robby had all but begged him to transfer to the morning shift, saying how they could use his help, but Gloria shot him down. It didn't surprise him, Gloria would deny the hospital of everything it would ever need.

"Hey, I've got a patient coming back for a laceration, figured you're the best with sutures," it was one of the nurses that caught his attention, bringing him back down to earth as he turned to face her.

"That's fine, gives me something to do so I don't fall asleep," it wasn't often that Jack was actually tired on shift, but there was just something about tonight.

She gave him a quick nod, heading back to the lobby to grab the patient and bring them back to one of the open rooms. The night was still early, none of the usual patients making their rounds as they tended to do.

His body moved on autopilot, hands reaching for gloves like clockwork as he stepped into the room.

"Good evening Mr. Cody, I heard you were in for a laceration?" Jack snapped the gloves into place as he stepped over to the bedside.

The man sitting before him couldn't have been older than thirty-five, maybe thirty-seven if he wanted to push. His hair leaned into a dark blonde, the roots more brown while the strands streaked bright. His eyes reminded Jack of the ocean, a deepness was that you didn't see often.

"Umm, yeah, accidentally knicked myself while trying to fix the kitchen sink, my husband demanded I come here," the patient stiffened for a moment, watching Jack with an intensity that a cornered animal might have.

"He's a smart man, that laceration looks pretty severe," from the limited view Jack had, he could tell it was at least five inches long, and maybe two inches in depth.

Mr. Cody seemed to suddenly relax, thankful that his doctor didn't appear to be homophobic. Nothing worse than having to sit around while someone spews vitriol and hatred for who you choose to love.

"Alright, so I'm going to numb up the area before I start with stitches, do you have any allergies to medication?" Jack had turned his back, laying out clamps, needles, medical thread, along with a syringe and small vile of lidocaine.

"No, no allergies," he cleared his throat nervously, eyes locked on the doctor.

Jesus, he could be his twin.

Prepping the syringe with lidocaine, Jack turned back towards his patient.

"It's going to be a slight burning, after that the numbing agent will take over and you shouldn't feel anything," pressing against the skin, Jack kept a steady hand as he pressed the needle in slowly, pushing the plunger down halfway.

After he finished with one side he switched to the other, numbing both sides of the laceration before reaching over to place the needle into the biohazard bin.

"Alright, I'm going to let that start working and then we will begin stitching up the wound," It was surprisingly clean, considering how he'd gotten said wound, but Jack wasn't here to judge.

The other man nodded, nervously clearing his throat.

"I'm sure you've never had someone tell you this, but you look so much like my brother," he chuckled softly, running a hand through his hair, strands falling down into his face.

"I can confidently say I've never had someone tell me that before, but it's a first time for everything," Jack smiled, reaching for a clamp as well as the threaded needle.

The patient didn't so much as fling as Jack began to stitch the wound closed, his eyes locked on the way Jack so effortlessly stitched it closed. Years of practice, it was his go to answer anytime someone asked.

After the wound was stitched, perfectly might Jack add, he cleaned the area surrounding and wrote a prescription for some mild painkillers as well as penicillin.

"Make sure to keep the stitches dry, nothing worse than getting an infection and having to come back," he tossed everything into the trash that had been used, the needle being tossed into the biohazard bin.

"I understand," Mr. Cody sat motionless for a brief moment, reaching into his pocket and unlocking his phone hastily. "I needed to show you this, before I left."

Turning his head, Jack came face to face with himself, except it wasn't him. The person staring back looked so similar, but so different as well. His hair was dark, the same shade Jack's had been before he'd started going gray. His eyes were the same dark hazel, freckles adoring his skin entirely.

"His name was Andrew, he umm, he passed away a few years ago," Jack's throat felt tight at knowing this other person was no longer alive.

Would it have been weird to meet his doppelgänger? Surely it would be, all things considered. Tearing his eyes away from the photo to look back at the patient, his heart raced, something he couldn't quite place taking over.

"I'm sorry for your loss, it's never easy losing someone close to you," from Jack's time in the army, losing men he knew had families to go home to. To losing the only woman he ever thought he could love.

That was before he'd met you, of course, you didn't push him to move on from the horrors he'd seen while deployed. Never made him feel insecure for still grieving his first wife, not after you admitted to losing your husband during Covid.

"Yeah, that's what I try and tell myself," his chuckle was bitter, his throat suddenly tight as he shoved the phone into his pocket.

Jack's body moved on it's own volition, his mind elsewhere as he gave the instructions once more on how to keep the wound clean, and dry. Mindlessly charting while the patient sat almost idly in front of him.

He discharged the patient, learning his name was Deran, before heading off to see if there were any new patients that needed help.

Throughout the night his mind would circle back to the photo, how truly similar they looked to one another. It felt like he was looking at a photo of himself during his last deployment, before he came home with one less limb, and a wife who'd gotten sick two months in. Everything about it felt strange. Hours ticked by slowly, taunting him as he waited for something interesting to happen.

Of course, as soon as Jack was getting ready to leave, an influx of people showed up as the morning shift began to file in. Jack handed off everything he was able to, instructing med students and residents to brign patients back that were first on the list before moving on. Robby looked tired, which was nothing new for anyone that had been around the man for longer than ten minutes.

"Hey, I've got some of the residents grabbing patients and putting them into rooms," Jack looked up as Robby plopped down his coffee, the ice swirling inside the plastic cup.

"Good, need to start whipping 'em into shape," Robby chuckled as he turned to face the other man, the sleeves of his hoodie pushed up towards his elbows.

"They're decent, better than the last batch we had," medical school was never easy, no matter how brilliant someone was.

The hand off went smoother as the rest of the nurses, and residents finally filed in for their shifts. Santos was already making Whitaker's morning hell, as she seemed to do with great pleasure, while Mohan was busy rushing off to find a patient to add to her roster for the day. Jack hoisted the strap of his bag over his shoulder, quickly making his way out of the building in order to get back home.

You were usually up around this time, either making breakfast for yourself, or doing some mundane chore he hadn't gotten the chance to do yet. Had he remembered to do the dishes before leaving last night? Shit, maybe he'd forgotten to fold the laundry that was sitting in the basket. Sliding the key into the deadbolt and twisting to unlock it Jack took a deep breath, silently preparing himself for what his dreams would bring this time.

Stepping inside the house was quiet, save for the sound of the TV playing softly in the living room, sounded like one of the podcasts you watched. His bag slipped off his shoulder and onto the floor, keys following suit as he set them into the bowl on the table. The house smelled faintly of cinnamon and maple syrup, so you'd had breakfast at least.

"Mmm, good morning my husband," your eyes were tired, a soft smile on your face as you looked at him over your shoulder.

Jack had never been more in love with you than he had in that moment, the way the blanket draped over your body so softly. Gentle lines around your eyes deepening as your smile widened the further he stepped into the room.

"I had a patient tonight come in for a laceration," Jack couldn't stop himself, lips parted as the words spewed out like water from a fountain. "He told me about his brother, even showed me a photo."

You waited for him to continue, body turning to face him instead of resting against the back of the couch as you had been.

"He…baby it looked exactly like me, we could've been identical twins," it took a lot to truly disturb Jack Abbot, and this was one of those things.

You kept watching him, brow furrowing as you tried to figure out how to even properly respond to something like that. Most people never met their doppelganger, so to hear that your husband had seen a photo of his?

"Well, let's hope that patient doesn't form a bond since you treated him," you raised a brow at him, hand loosely clutching the remote in your left hand.

"His brothers dead sweetheart, maybe I should worry a little bit," Jack sighed, plopping down onto the sofa beside you.

You rolled your eyes, laying your head against his shoulder as Jack let his body sink into the plush cushions. Maybe he was just overreacting, this would be a one-off and he'd never see this patient again.

"If it does become worrisome then let Robby and Gloria, nothing wrong with keeping yourself safe," you quickly unpaused the video, turning your attention back to the two women on screen.

Maybe you had the right idea, if things did escalate he could just let other people know to keep an eye on the guy in case he came back.

Things would be just fine.

Right?

Chapter Text

The house cracked and popped as the flames tore through the furniture as if it was made of tissue paper. Window's smashing loudly as the wind whipped harshly around him, eyes vacant of any emotion. Two bodies lay behind him, one long since gone, her skin shining dimly in the raging fire. The other, lungs still gasped softly for air that refused to sink itself into his throat, to give him what his body so desperately needed. Walls began to crumble beneath their own weight, dust and debris flying out onto the pool deck. A wretched cough splitting through the air before the body finally stilled. His head turned slowly, dark hazel eyes trailing over the kid. Barely an adult and his life had been snuffed away, like slamming the lid onto a burning candle, watching the flame flicker away slowly until nothing but smoke remained.

His brothers were either dead, or ran off. Phone completely silent from where it sat in his right front pocket. They wouldn't be dumb enough to try and contact him knowing everyone would be tapping into their calls. J would've gotten away with everything, a kid with a clean record, born to a mother abandoned by her own family. A drug addiction until it consumed her entire being. Unfortunately, J wouldn't get the chance to be so lucky, surrounded by beautiful women all the time, no worries in the world.

No.

Instead he's bleeding out onto the cool stone of the back yard, feet resting still in the warmth of the pool water. Eyes dull and lifeless as the world around him raged on, the fire finishing the job as the foundation of the house cracked further.

Andrew lifted his head slowly, ignoring the two bodies once more before making a final decision. Even if Deran, or Craig managed to survive outrunning the police, where would they even be able to escape to? Getting out of the country would be nearly impossible, not unless they found a way to sneak into a plane. That was a quick one way ticket to getting thrown back into prison though, so maybe not that.

Andrew's eyes widened, he'd need to find somewhere far, far away from all of this. Somewhere in the mountains where no one knew his name, a place where Smurfs name wouldn't taint him anymore.

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You were giggling at some terrible joke that Dana had just made, claiming she was part of the 'cool and hip crowd'. It was nice to just get out and simply enjoy yourselves for once and not worry about work, or any other problems.

"So, do you think you and Jack will ever have a little one?" Dana knew you never wanted children. After growing up surrounded by violence, you just couldn't imagine bringing another person into this horrific world.

"We discussed it a lot before we got married, Jack agrees that we shouldn't. With his PTSD from being in the service and my childhood?" You laughed softly, lips falling into a frown slowly. "It'd be selfish of us to do that to an innocent child, I've accepted I'll be the cool aunt."

It never bothered you, no matter how much society and the patriarchy wanted to pressure you into putting more children in the world. Money wasn't an issue regarding raising a family, but in some part you were almost selfish. It was your life, no one else was allowed to dictate what you did with the time given.

"And a damn great aunt you will be," Dana's eyes squinted as she smiled brightly, refusing to let tension ruin a great night out.

Drinks were replaced before anyone could finish theirs, laughter filling the air as everyone told old stories, inappropriate jokes, and whatever else came to mind.

Hazel eyes watched you, the way you threw your head back every time you laughed freely, fingers pressed against your sternum. To anyone else watching they'd think he was interested, but no, he knew you were married, the ring could blind anyone who looked at it. You looked just like you had back at home. So carefree, so happy.

And he'd let you slip through his fingers, building the courage to tell you his true feelings before it was ripped away. Smurf had never approved of you, called you too soft for the sharp edges that surrounded Andrew. He didn't want to believe her, that he was nothing more than a monster. Until his fingers were gripped around the pillow held over Cath's face. Until he held down J's head under the water, his sister's face flashing in his mind. She'd been his first victim, even if he hadn't been the one to kill her.

Andrew's hands would never be clean, hair graying at the sides of his head, curls looser than he'd ever let them get. His beard followed suit, graying thickly while leaving a hint of his natural auburn. It helped him blend in a little easier, looking more like a local than someone that'd spent their life surfing and robbing.

"Hey, I'm really sorry to bother you, but have you seen this person before," his body locked up at the new person standing by the bar.

Deran.

The bartender looked down at the photo, eyes narrowing for a slight moment before they shook their head.

"Sorry, never seen them a day in my life," the bartender laid their palms against the sleek wood. "There a reason you're looking for him?"

Deran nervously cleared his throat, back straightening to, what Andrew can only assume, look more confident in his answers.

"He's my brother, he's medicated and we just found out he hasn't been taking them, we're afraid he's on a bender," it sounded so plausible, a mental health crisis, a worried family out looking.

"Shit, sorry I couldn't be anymore help," with that, the bartender brushed him off, heading off to attend to customers.

Deran quietly cursed under his breath, turning to storm out of the bar while Andrew refused to so much as breathe until it was safe. His grip loosened from around the bottle he'd been clutching like a life line. Eyes flickered up and back over to your table, your empty table.

God fucking damnit, who knew the next time he'd able to see you again, not like he left his home very often. The realtor had been ecstatic to sell it to him, even offering to get the price knocked down a few extra thousand. That, he hadn't turned down, signing the papers not even a month later. It needed fixing up, not a problem with how much disposable income he had.

You were a memory he'd long since buried, afraid to open the Pandora's box that those feelings would unleash. His mind had never truly been able to do you justice, a modern day Aphrodite walked amongst the living and he couldn't have you. No, some doctor named Jack Abbot had gotten to you first.

Lucky bastard.

─ · ·✦•๑࿔༻𖤓༺࿔๑•✦· · ─

It was much too early to be standing inside a grocery store, but it was also the best chance Andrew had to avoid people almost entirely. It was mainly the elderly he had to worry about, their driving being one of the worst parts of it. Safety first.

"I can't decide on which one to get, what if I end up hating the flavor?" Why did your voice sound so close?

"I'll drink whichever you like least, how's that sound?" Why was he hearing his voice?!

"I like the way you think, Dr. Abbot," you smiled as you grabbed a bag of each, setting it down into the shopping cart.

Andrew turned quickly, hiding off in a corner where you couldn't see him, let alone your husband. How slim were the chances that he would ever run into you? Probably higher since he moved into town, you left long before Andrew could tell you how he felt. It wasn't your fault he was too much of a chicken to utter the words. Smurf hadn't helped, whispering such vile things about you, and how he'd be better off. Things would've been better if Smurf hadn't ruined their lives, his only remaining family searching for him.

Slipping out of his hiding spot without being undetected, Andrew quickly started making his way down towards the freezer. Basket held tight in his left hand, right shoved deep into the pocket of his dark blue jeans. Just need to grab two more things before he can sneak out without you catching wind.

He'd only had his head turned for a moment, barely a second before he was colliding with someone in front of him, hand instinctively reaching out to grab the person. Fingers came into contact with the soft material of their coat, tightening to prevent them from falling. Andrew let himself focus once the brief shock wore off, eyes widening even further.

It felt like looking in a mirror, but also different in the same moment.

"I-," his throat felt tight, brow furrowed as he stared at himself.

The same eyes, wrinkles, were they identical?

Jack's eyes never wavered as he stared at the stranger in front of him, mind running with a million different thoughts. He was the patients brother he'd treated just last night, Andrew.

Andrew, sensing danger, dropped his grip as if Jack's coat had burned his skin. His feet pushing against the floor as he all but ran towards the registers. Shit, if Deran were to get word that he was actually alive? He couldn't go back to the life from before, wondering if he wouldn't lose his life on the side of the road due to a job gone bad.

No.

That wasn't his life anymore, Deran would just have to move on without Andrew in his life, he'd clearly been doing just fine. Maybe he'd get a cat, or a dog, something to take care of so he didn't need to go into town as much and get human interaction.

"Who was that?" You stepped over to Jack's side, watching how flustered he seemed to be after running into a stranger.

"I'm pretty sure that was the patients brother I told you about, the one I looked like," wrapping an arm around your waist he led you both towards the front.

The registers were nearly empty as you stepped up to an open one, setting everything on the belt as Jack headed down to bag things.

Neither of you noticed the man standing outside, dark sunglasses hiding the way his eyes bore into you, hands gripping the steering wheel harshly.

At least you were happy. Even if it wasn't with him.