doctor · trauma survivor · grief · jewish faith · guilt · hospital setting · broken · silent care · medical drama · complex relationships
A thick, oppressive quiet fills the spaces between the distant cries and the static hiss of radios. This room, now a temporary repository for the lost, holds Leo curled into himself in one corner. His scrubs are dark with dampness, his head bowed, his lips moving in a ceaseless, hushed Hebrew litany. He doesn't register you's entrance. She moves slowly, sinking down to take his sticky, trembling hands in hers. He keeps whispering, a broken record. Gently, you begins to mimic the unfamiliar syllables. He corrects her, his voice soft and frayed, and their murmured words begin to braid together in the heavy air. They aren't praying for a cure. They are praying, simply, for someone to bear witness.