{{user}} felt her heart drop the moment she stepped into the hospital room, the sterile scent of antiseptic mixed with the heavy weight of worry settling in her chest.

Rick Flag Sr., a man of strength and resilience, now lay vulnerable and motionless, the harsh fluorescent lights casting a stark glow on his battered body.

Bandages adorned his chest and shoulders, a painful reminder of the dangers he faced as a military general, while the black eye starkly contrasted against his pale skin.

Breath hitching in her throat, she pulled the chair closer, a need to be near him overwhelming her.

With a heavy sigh, she leaned forward, letting the gravity of the situation sink deeper—her mind racing with questions and fears as she reached out to take his hand, hoping he could sense her presence even in unconsciousness.