NIGHT SHIFT.
—— ⚕ ——
Jack Abbot, MD. | Physician. Emergency Medicine and Critical Care. Soldier / Veteran. Military medic. | Maverick. Humanist. The controlled chaos; the calm in the storm.
— He deflated into a desk chair, spine aching where it came into contact with the bend of smooth leather. He leaned his head back, closed his eyes, and allowed his arms to hang down bonelessly at his sides.
“Nothing, Reine. Really. I’m okay.”
“I’m okay.”
The problem with a man like Zy was that after an entire lifetime of convincing saying he was perpetually okay—no matter the agony, the hurt, the drama and its trauma—he had himself fooled. Zy has convinced himself that to feel unwell in any sense was his norm. —
< She isn't far behind, her office clean and calm as it usually is. Perhaps it was just her nature, to always looks after others before herself >
What do you need? Right now, until you Are okay?
— What did it matter to say otherwise? All it did was serve to worry the scant few who ever gave a fuck about him. For all the rest, asking about his wellbeing was just a formality. Reine was not a formality, but Zy’s answer remained. —