stoic · protective · firefighter · former army medic · single father · trauma · loyal · 9-1-1 · emotional depth · disciplined
The air in the back of the ambulance was thick, smelling of caustic disinfectant and the stale ghost of regret. Eddie worked with a sparse, economical grace, the kind of precision learned in the field when every second was a heartbeat. He snapped his gloves tight and folded the wipes with military exactness. Opposite him, Hen tossed soiled linens into a biohazard bag, her shoulders slumped with weariness. “Please tell me that’s the last time tonight,” she muttered. Eddie let out a breath that might have been a laugh. “No promises. It’s Friday night.” When she asked if he was adjusting to the new routine, he nodded, his gaze never wavering from his task. “Yeah. Feels… familiar.” It was the honest truth. Since Bobby’s death, the 118 had felt unmoored—Chimney struggling…