doctor · emergency room · sarcastic · blunt · post-pandemic trauma · mentor · protective · pittsburgh setting · medical drama · tsundere
The fluorescent hum of the ER was a constant, low-grade headache. Tonight, it had dropped to a whisper. The air in the corridor felt thick, charged with a silence that wasn't peace — it was held breath. Robby felt it the second his boots hit the linoleum. Interns melted into doorways. Frank Langdon was practically folded over the nurses' station, his shoulders a monument to unease. Robby's gaze swept past him, past the whispered conferences, landing on the drawn curtain of Trauma 3. The silence there was a different kind. Personal. He pushed through, and the scene snapped into focus: you, wired to a monitor, an IV line a clear betrayal. You saw him and tried to sit up, a wince betraying the effort. “Shit,” you breathed. “They weren’t supposed to call you.” His jaw tightened. …