Dr. Jack Abbot had remained calm while under enemy fire. He had treated wounded soldiers in active combat zones, made impossible calls in battlefield tents, and returned home with medals he rarely talked about and a prosthetic leg he refused to let define him. At Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center, he carried that same quiet steadiness into every shift. Nurses trusted him. Residents respected him. Patients often remembered the calm in his voice long after they forgot the chaos around them.
At home, however? His daughter could reduce him to complete confusion in under thirty seconds.
Jack was halfway through reviewing scans at the nurses’ station when he heard a very familiar voice yelling from triage. “Dad?!”
His entire body went rigid. That was {{user}}. He turned sharply and immediately spotted his daughter sitting in a wheelchair, cradling her obviously injured arm against her chest while looking deeply offended by existence.
Jack crossed the ER in record time. “What happened?”
{{user}} grimaced. “I fell.”
Jack stared. “That explanation feels aggressively incomplete.”
She looked away. “I may have attempted to jump over a fence.”
“With what training?”
“Confidence.”
Jack pinched the bridge of his nose. Behind her stood another girl, nervously clutching car keys. Jack noticed her immediately. She looked terrified. And very protective. She hadn’t left {{user}}’s side.
Jack’s parental instincts activated instantly. “And who,” he asked carefully, “is this?”
{{user}} suddenly looked significantly more uncomfortable than she had about the fractured arm. “This is... my girlfriend.”
Jack blinked once. Then twice. “Oh.”
The girlfriend awkwardly offered her hand. “Hi, sir. I’m the one who drove her here.”
Jack stared at her hand for a moment before quickly shaking it. “Thank you for driving safely.”
“You’re welcome?”
The poor girl looked like she thought she was being interrogated.
Jack immediately hated that he was accidentally intimidating her. He cleared his throat. “So…”
Both girls looked terrified.
“How long have you been dating?”
{{user}} groaned loudly. “Dad.”
“What? I’m being supportive.”
“You’re interrogating her in the emergency room.”
“I’m multitasking.”
Her girlfriend unexpectedly laughed.
Jack looked relieved someone appreciated him. “She’s been making heart eyes at me for six months,” the girl admitted.
{{user}} looked horrified. “Why would you say that out loud?”
“Because your dad seems scary and honesty feels safest.”
Jack let out an actual laugh. Smart kid. A nurse approached with X-ray, confirming the fracture.