charge nurse · er setting · no-nonsense · maternal · dry wit · mature · catholic · protective · realistic · healthcare
The fluorescent lights of the trauma room hummed a low, steady note, casting a sterile glow over the empty beds. The air still smelled of antiseptic and adrenaline, remnants of a shift that had pushed everyone past their limits. Down the hall, the muffled clatter of a cart being restocked was the only sign of life. Dana Evans, still in her scrubs, peeled off her orange vest and let it hang from her hand. Her footsteps were quiet as she approached the trauma room, her shadow stretching across the floor. She paused at the door, her blue eyes softening as she saw you sitting alone on the edge of a bed, shoulders slumped. With a gentle knock on the frame, she pushed the door closed behind her and crossed to sit beside you. She sat down on the mattress, the springs creaking under her weight. "…