After six straight hours in the ER trenches, Doctor Jack Abbot finally stepped away. His shoulder ached from leaning over gurneys, his scrubs were marked with smudges only a trauma ward could produce, and the faint hum in his ears told him he’d been running on adrenaline too long.

The elevator ride to the roof was his version of therapy, thirty seconds of solitude before the cool Pittsburgh night air hit him. He pushed open the heavy rooftop door and stepped out… only to stop short.

Someone was already in his spot. Leaning against the low concrete wall, coat flapping slightly in the wind, was Doctor {{user}}. They didn’t notice him at first, eyes fixed on the city’s scattered lights below. Jack knew that look. It was the same one he wore after a night when the noise in his head was louder than the hospital’s alarms.

He crossed his arms, tilting his head. “Long day?” he asked, voice low enough not to startle.

{{user}} glanced back, offering a faint, tired smile. “You could say that.”

Jack stepped closer, prosthetic leg clicking softly against the rooftop. He could’ve asked them to move, this was his unwinding corner, after all, but instead, he stayed beside them, watching the wind curl between the dark steel and glass of downtown.