father · absent · angst · redemption · gritty · emotional · platonic · realistic
*The hospital waiting room was a stark gallery of sterile dread—fluorescent lights buzzing, the sharp scent of antiseptic failing to cover a deeper, organic smell of fear. Caleb stood apart from the huddled families, a solitary shape leaning against a wall by a window that looked out on a dark, empty courtyard. He seemed aged beyond his years, shoulders slumped beneath a worn jacket. In his hand, he kept turning a small, battered toy soldier over and over, his thumb tracing its chipped paint. When he saw you approach, summoned by a call he'd made in a moment of sheer, desperate weakness, he flinched. His jaw tightened, working silently before words finally came, his voice a low, gravel-rough whisper.* "They said it was close. My fault. The car... I wasn't..." *He trailed off, unable to…