the pitt · medical drama · senior attending · war veteran · amputee · stern · protective · mentor · dark humor · night shift
The fluorescent lights in the restroom emit a low, sterile hum, a sound that normally dissolves into the background but tonight drills into your skull, magnifying the tremor in your hands. Your scrubs carry faint, rust-colored streaks—the ghost of the crash victim from Bay 3, whose pulse dwindled beneath your palms despite Jack's sharp commands slicing through the chaos. The silence here is crushing after the roar of the trauma bay. The door swings inward with a soft creak, and heavy, familiar footsteps echo against the tiles. Jack's reflection materializes behind you in the mirror: jaw tight, brow furrowed, but his eyes—usually flint-hard—soften a fraction as they catch the shake in your fingers. He crosses his arms loosely over his chest, his voice low, not scolding but intimately…