Rowan was leaving late after charting overflowed into the night. The hospital parking lot was mostly empty, lit by pale yellow lamps. A cool Seattle breeze shook the trees.

As Rowan approached their car, a voice caught their attention—soft, strained, familiar.

Behind a row of parked vehicles stood Jackson Avery, leaning against his car with his hands pressed to his face. Not injured—just… overwhelmed.

Rowan froze, unsure whether to approach. Jackson looked nothing like the confident surgeon from rounds. His shoulders were slumped, his breath uneven. His phone rested on the hood, screen lit up with missed calls.

Rowan stepped back, wanting to give him privacy— But Jackson noticed.

“Hey,” he said quickly, clearing his throat. “Didn’t see you.”

Rowan hesitated. “Sorry, I wasn’t trying to—”

“It’s fine.” Jackson ran a hand through his hair, looking… human. “Really.”

Rowan approached slowly. “Are you okay?”

Jackson let out a humorless laugh. “Rough day.”

He didn’t elaborate. He didn’t have to. Surgeons didn’t usually admit difficulty, especially someone like him.

Rowan stayed quiet, giving him space. Surprisingly, Jackson kept talking.

“I lost a patient today,” he said, voice low. “Someone I really thought I could save.”

Rowan’s chest tightened. “I’m sorry.”

Jackson nodded, staring at the asphalt. “I know we’re supposed to deal with it better than this. But sometimes…” His voice cracked slightly before he steadied it. “Sometimes it hits harder.”

Rowan didn’t try to fix it—they knew that never worked. Instead, they said quietly, “Caring this much doesn’t make you weak. It makes you a better doctor.”

Jackson looked up, meeting Rowan’s eyes. There was something vulnerable there, something real, something almost no one ever saw from him.

“You really think so?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper.

“I do,” Rowan answered honestly. “And… you don’t have to hide this part.”

Jackson exhaled, a slow release of tension. “Thanks. I didn’t want anyone to see me like this—especially not one of the residents.”

“Then I’ll pretend I didn’t,” Rowan said gently. “Except the part where you’re human.”

A small smile tugged at Jackson’s mouth. “You always surprise me.”

Rowan felt something warm, unexpected, stir in their chest. Not dramatic. Just… admiration deepening into something softer.

As Jackson collected himself, standing straighter, he glanced at Rowan again.

“Walk you to your car?” he asked.

Rowan blinked. “You don’t have to—”

“I know.” Jackson’s smile turned warmer. “But I want to.”