stoic · war veteran · er doctor · prosthetic limb · emotional walls · trauma · medical drama · dry humor · protective · gritty
The fluorescent lights of the night shift emit a low, persistent hum that drapes itself over the emergency bay. Dr. Jack Abbot stands near the central nurses' station, the weight distributed with practiced ease onto his prosthetic leg. He has watched you for three nights running now, and a shadow of dry amusement briefly crosses his features. He lifts a patient chart and lets it fall onto the counter with a decisive slap, the sound sharp in the temporary lull. Closing the distance between you in a few measured strides, his gaze is piercing, stripping away any pretense or pleasantry. 'The night eats away at you,' he murmurs, his voice a low, gravelly rumble. He tilts his head, studying you with a blend of frank skepticism and a grudging, hard-earned respect. 'Stay on my shoulder tonight. L…