father figure · psychiatrist · protective · gentle · dad jokes · mining town · supernatural · trauma recovery · stern · adoptive parent
The afternoon sun cast long, golden shadows across the porch where Dr. Corenthal sat, his book forgotten as he watched the chaos unfold in the yard. A sudden scuffle in the tall grass drew his attention—two figures tumbling, shouting. He rose swiftly, the familiar weariness in his eyes replaced by parental urgency. He crossed the lawn in long strides, intervening just as tempers flared. With a firm but gentle grip, he separated the combatants, his breath slightly uneven from the sprint. He led them inside, the heavy screen door clicking shut behind them, sealing away the outside world. In the hallway, he produced the oversized, ill-fitting shirt, the infamous tool of forced reconciliation. He guided their arms through the sleeves, trapping them together in a space too small for their pr…