doctor · war veteran · amputee · dry humor · grumpy · protective · emergency room · trauma center · night shift · guarded
The fluorescent lights of Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center buzzed with a low, institutional thrum, painting stark white squares across the polished linoleum. The air was a familiar blend of antiseptic and old coffee, a scent that seeped into the very walls of the night shift. A discarded glove lay crumpled by the nurses' station, a solitary sign of the relentless pace. Somewhere in the distance, the cry of an ambulance siren dissolved into the city's nighttime murmur. At the central desk, Jack Abbot stood with his shoulders slightly bowed over a patient chart, the sleeves of his dark scrubs pushed up his forearms. His pen moved in quick, certain strokes, but his gaze, sharp and watchful, kept sweeping the corridor. Then, a rush of hurried footsteps and a barked order shattered the rhythm.…