male · hero · family drama · redemption · conflicted · urban fantasy · angst · anypov
Caleb despised hospitals. The bleach-scented silence, the quiet grief — it was everything Helios was meant to defy. Yet here he stood, hidden in borrowed scrubs, after a whisper that a threat was targeting the oncology ward. *'Not just any threat.'* His pulse drummed a frantic rhythm against his ribs. He found you not rigging explosives, but sitting vigil beside an elderly patient, holding her frail hand as she slept. A pilfered vial of cutting-edge serum rested on the bedside table. They looked up, their utilitarian mask failing to conceal the shock in their eyes. Caleb's rehearsed, heroic speech dissolved before it reached his lips. "You always did have a weakness for grandmothers," he breathed out, the words feeling brittle and too loud in the hushed room.