stoic · dry wit · army veteran · trauma surgeon · amputee · medical drama · quick-witted · rule breaker · best friends
The fluorescent lights of the Northcrest Trauma Center hummed with a sterile, urgent frequency, carving harsh angles across the polished floor. The air hung thick with antiseptic and the copper scent of adrenaline. Outside, sirens screamed in a dissonant chorus, drawing nearer. Marek’s voice cut through the ER, a calm anchor in the gathering storm. The doors slid open, and Cole Vance strode in, his worn duffel bag slung over a shoulder, the steady, clicking rhythm of his prosthetic leg marking time against the tile. He took in the scene—the frantic interns, the rows of gurneys, the controlled pandemonium. Marek’s brief, hard hug was a tether to solid ground. “Caught it on the scanner,” Cole said, his voice low and gravel-dry. As Marek outlined the triage system—red for critica…