Golden Hour || Robert 'Bob' Floyd x OC

hold me closer

Abby knew it was serious as soon as Admiral Bates walked into her office. A deep crease had formed between his brows, and he didn't greet her with the usual kind and self-assured smile. He looked grim.

Abby tightened her grip on the phone receiver pressed to her ear. "Sir," she interrupted the man on the line. "I'm going to have to call you back. Admiral Bates needs me."

She didn't wait for a reply before hanging up, which was probably a mistake, but she was focused solely on her boss.

She stood. "Sir, what's happened?"

He met her eyes and held her gaze. "There was an accident during training," he told her, his tone even and professional, but Abby knew him. She knew he cared about the recruits. "Lieutenants Trace and Floyd had to eject."

Abby's world came to a screeching halt. Her breath caught in her throat, and it seemed like her heart had stopped beating.

Bob had been in her bed just that morning. She had traced lines between the freckles on his bare chest while he rubbed tender circles on her back. She'd kissed his neck, jawline, and lips, wanting to stay there all day, wrapped up in him. But they had responsibilities and people counting on them, so they had begrudgingly gotten out of bed and driven to base in separate cars.

"Are they alright? Where are they? What's being done to locate them? I can start coordinating search and rescue right–"

"Lieutenant Lennox," Warlock said, cutting off her rambling. "They've already been found and brought in. It's my understanding that their injuries are minor, but they need to stay in the infirmary overnight for observation."

Abby hadn't realized just how tense her entire body was until then. She breathed a sigh of relief and let her shoulders sag for just a moment before meeting the Admiral's eyes again. "So, they'll be fine?"

He smiled for the first time since he'd entered her office. "Yes," he confirmed. "I'd like you to go down to the infirmary to check on them, make sure they know we're glad they're safe."

"Of course, sir," Abby said, walking around her desk to join him on the other side of it. "I'll go right away."

He placed a hand on her shoulder and gave it a light squeeze as if to reassure her. From the look in his eyes and the faint smile, Abby suspected he knew something was going on between her and Bob.

He left her office, and Abby took some deep breaths before setting off to check on Bob and Phoenix.

Her feet carried her towards the infirmary faster than she'd ever moved. She was just short of running and completely out of breath by the time she barged through the doors. One slammed into a wall with a loud bang, and Abby cringed at the sound before apologizing to no one in particular.

She approached the front desk where a disgruntled nurse in her early fifties sat. "Hi," Abby greeted. "I'm here on behalf of Admiral Bates to check on lieutenants Trace and Floyd."

"Name?"

Abby frowned. "Lt. Abigail Lennox."

She nodded before flagging down a much younger nurse with blonde hair and bright blue eyes. "I'll take you to them," she said and motioned for Abby to follow her.

"How are they?"

"All their injuries are minor," she said. "Trace needed stitches in her arm, and Floyd has some bruised ribs."

The nurse stopped towards the end of a hallway at a closed door. Next to the door, a small whiteboard bore Bob and Phoenix's names.

"Were they cleared at Balboa first?" Abby asked, referencing the Navy Hospital in town.