Disclaimer: this story is NOT part of the official SOS storyline. It's just fan fiction! Enjoy 😊

Part 5 of B-sides

Author: JJ (JJthatsall )

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Jack wound his way through the maze of ER corridors, past the women's shower, out of order again. He was rounding on his patients one final time before the end of his shift and four days off. He hated how often he ended up down here, pitching in, being a team player. Yes, emergencies were important but his patients were his priority and four days away from the hospital did them no good.

He reached the last rooms, the car accident couple. The young lady was being released. Her broken wrist had been set and the rest of her injuries were minor. He glanced at the cubicle next door and paused.

Sana was standing at the driver's bedside with another man. He looked vaguely familiar, about Jack's height, dark-haired with a light dusting of silver. Jack immediately hated him, hated the breadth of his shoulders, the surety of his stance, the warmth of his mumbled responses.

"As you can see, he has no critical injuries. The broken nose and cracked ribs will heal with binding and home care. We do need to repair the corpus cavernosum, which ruptured in two places due to the organ's position during the collision. He refused surgical intervention but Dr. Reynolds has determined he is currently unfit to direct his own care. His blood alcohol content is twice the legal limit and tox screen is pending for other substances."

"Corpus caverno..?" The slight blush on Sana's cheek as she prepared to explain propelled Jack forward.

"Penis. He broke his penis in two places." Jack took a perverse pleasure in the wince that crossed the other man's face and the instinctive curl of his body to protect that precious item. As the man straightened with a shudder, Jack recognized him.

"Detective Rowley, here to arrest him already? You can see he's in no shape at the moment. We're waiting for family to come and approve treatment."

Jack was familiar with most of the TPD. His patients were often victims of crimes, and occasionally both victims and perpetrators. Detective Rowley was a good man, a happily married good man. Jack relaxed slightly at the diminished threat.

"I am family, Reynolds. This idiot here is my godson. His parents are out of town. How do you.. how did he break his, it in two places?"

The detective glanced at the young man restrained at wrists and ankles to the stretcher. A thin tube ran from his nose to a container on the wall, draining the contents of his stomach before surgery. The thick aroma of alcohol and marijuana was covered with the rank stench of fear and vomit. Pitiful pained moans slipped out, mixed with jumbled nonsense.

"Judging by his and the passenger's injuries, I'd say he was receiving a hand job while driving. They hit a brick wall and airbags deployed. His passenger's grip tightened instinctively at the base and the airbag struck near the tip, rapidly forcing it toward his body. It's a fairly severe injury but he has a good chance of recovery and normal function with the surgery."

Jack avoided looking in Sana's direction while explaining to the detective. She had recited the story several times already to her fellow interns, who somehow all ended up at the ER, though half of them weren't even on shift right now. The pink on her cheeks wasn't from embarrassment, it was laughter. Unable to contain it any longer, she excused herself to check on the surgical team and escaped down the hall.

"Meeeee-rrrraaahh...where's Meera? Ohhh shit. You ok, Meemee?"" The young man's broken croak drew the doctor and the detective closer.

"She's fine. She's not hurt. Going home now, actually." Jack hurried to reassure and reorient his patient, who was beginning to fight his restraints.

"You've cocked it up good this time Darce." was the detective's helpful smirking contribution.

"Uncle Dylan? Uncle Dylan, don't let them cut my dick off. They're trying to cut my dick off. They're trying..." His hazy eyes attempted to stay focused. His face blanched when Dylan tugged the thin sheet down and flipped up his gown.

"Look at that. Nah, go on, look at it and stop being stupid. They're trying to save your dick. Although once your mum gets here, it won't matter. You might be better off without it anyway. Pulling such a daft stunt. I'm not gonna be able to fix this one mate."

The regret and disappointment in Dylan's voice sobered Darcy like nothing else. "My mom? Oh shit, you called mom?"

"Vicky was on it as soon as the hospital called. Your parents are working on a flight home now."

Darcy slumped back onto the stretcher, all the fight sucked out of him. "Fine, go ahead and do it. Maybe I'll get lucky and bleed out on the table."

"And what should we put on your tombstone then? Rest in pieces, Darcy's dick? May God's hands be gentler than his girl's."

A harsh bark of laughter escaped before Jack could catch it. "You're welcome to stay and watch. Because of the unusual nature of the injury, the surgery is booked into one of the large teaching theaters. The interns are all very excited. Plenty of room in the observation area, if you'd like to join."

Detective Rowley spared one last quick look at his godson's unfortunate situation, then shook his head firmly and replaced the sheet. "No thanks. I already know a lot more about his dick than I ever wanted to. I'll pass on the rest."

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Eleven interns, three residents and a handful of other hospital staff crowded the largest observation area. The air stank of too many colognes, bad coffee and poor venting. Jack propped up in a corner, keeping an eye on the interns. They had a tendency to overreact during surgeries, as if it was a horror show for their amusement. Calmly, he tracked the likely troublemakers (cough Nichols and Kim) and the potential hurlers. He marked the positions of the trash cans in the other corners.

He did not look for Sana. There was no need. She was right in front, chatting with Will MacNair, one of the residents. Jack couldn't see even the slightest glimpse of her through the crowd but he knew. He knew by the way Mac was leaning over, bending towards someone. He knew by the way that his eyes and his feet were drawn to that spot, by the pull that dragged him from his corner to flank her right side while he nodded at Mac on her left.

As the procedure went on, the two men edged closer and closer to the front, trailing Sana, who was pressed against the glass, fascinated. Jack preferred to keep his eyes on her, at any time, but especially when the alternative was a flayed phallus.

Beside him, Mac groaned and shook his head, swallowing thickly. "God it's hot. Too hot in here."

Jack's gaze cut quickly to Mac. He grabbed a trash can in one hand and the back of Sana's shirt in the other, but too late. Amidst the resulting shouts and heaves, he shoved her out the door.

"You'll have to use the men's shower. Head that way. I'll grab your bag."

Jack hit the door of his office at a dead run. He snatched up the gym bag Sana had begun keeping there when the women's locker room was unavailable. The halls were fairly clear with so many staff either watching the surgery or now cleaning up the aftermath.

Wrestling her bag back onto his shoulder, Jack pushed into the locker room. "I've got it. Here you go..oh Shit! Sorry! Sorry! Oh fuck me! Sorry"

Eyes screwed shut, he tossed her gym bag on the floor and damn near fell into the linen cart as he scrambled backwards. Flailing blindly for the door, he finally escaped and fled.

Jack slumped against his office wall, banging his head on the ancient cinder block a few times for good measure. He wished with all his might that he could change places with that young man in surgery. If anyone deserved to have his dick sliced open and six weeks of chemically induced impotence, it was Jack. Not that poor guy whose only crime was receiving a drunk hand job while driving drunk.

Jack however was irredeemable, utterly lost, and damned by the vision that still shimmered in his mind. He had seen too much and not enough, somewhat concealed by that pitiful excuse for privacy, half a wall that sectioned the men's showers off from the locker room. For once Jack cursed his height that allowed him to see from the top of that gorgeous braid trailing down to her tiny pert ass, framed by the most delectably petite curves.

The sight drove him headfirst into the biggest, hottest fiery lake in the pit of hell. He had violated her trust as a colleague and a mentor, disrespected her faith and objectified her body against her consent. Oh fuck yeah, had he objectified. His disgusting, perverted brain instantly conjured every single stereotypical sexual thought possible, in addition to all the regular ones, and all at the same time.

He compared her enticing body, favorably of course, to Princess Fucking Jasmine, mentally dressed her in harem pants and envisioned the dance of the veils. He was pretty sure none of that was culturally or historically accurate. Definitely not at all complimentary, but his dormant dick had risen from hibernation starved and stupid.

Shit damn hello, his dick had never been so painfully hard in his life. He probably needed a couple units of blood just to maintain vital function while he waited for the thing to subside. But there was no way he could limp to the blood bank like this. His limbs were weak with want while his gut surged with the sour sick of shame.

Jack hunched over his knees, trembling and retching. His throat felt raw, skin raw, mind and heart and soul raw. He needed to go down on his knees and beg for her forgiveness. He needed to never ever ever see her again. But most of all, he needed to bury his face in the perfection of the back of her neck and just breathe her in and bawl his fucking eyes out like a goddamn baby.

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A/N:
1. I may have commented once or twice on H&M that Darcy needed to hit a brick wall. So I made it happen and grounded him from his dick for a few weeks. The circumstances were inspired by a former patient of mine. If you'd like more info, holla

2. Jack had a rather uncomplimentary moment. Occasionally we all have to face attitudes and assumptions that we may be blissfully unaware of. My intention was to do this in an honest but not hurtful manner. Please PM me if you have suggestions on how I could improve it.

R/N:
Jake be like...

Darcy dreaming of the days before 'the incident'...