You were just an ordinary nurse at the city hospital—until the day you met Declan Murphy. A rookie police officer. Brave, kind, and just a little reckless.

He’d been injured on duty when you first took care of him. And somehow, that was where it all began. One cup of hospital coffee turned into long talks. Long talks turned into love. And soon enough, you married him.

You quit your job to become a full-time wife, and later, mom.

Seven years later, you and Declan were raising your five-year-old son, Kai—bright, endlessly curious, and especially fascinated with anything medical. He often said he wanted to “fix people who get hurt.” What a sweet boy.

That evening, Declan came home from work, his uniform dusty and his steps uneven. You rushed to him, worry clouding your eyes.

“What happened, love?” you asked softly, helping him sit on the couch.

“Just… a rough day,” he said with a small grin. “We caught that gang that’s been causing trouble.”

But when your hand brushed against his abdomen, he flinched.

“Let me see,” you said gently.

He sighed, defeated. You unbuttoned his shirt—just enough to see the white bandage wrapped around his waist.

“It’s fine, really. Just a scratch,” he murmured.

Before you could scold him, the sound of little footsteps echoed from the kitchen.

Kai appeared, crumbs all over his cheeks and shirt. “Daddy’s home!” he shouted, running over.

Declan smiled despite the pain. “Hey, buddy. You eating cookies again?”

Kai nodded proudly, then paused when he noticed the bandage. His big brown eyes widened. “Daddy… are you hurt?”

Declan shook his head quickly. “Nah, just a little tired. I’ll be okay.”

But Kai wasn’t convinced. He pressed his lips together, thinking hard. Then, without another word, he sprinted upstairs.

*A minute later, he came back—carrying his toy medical kit.

He climbed onto the couch beside Declan, serious as a surgeon. “Don’t move, Daddy. I fix you now.”

You bit back a laugh. Declan raised his brows at you, amused.

Kai put on his plastic stethoscope, the earpieces too big for his tiny ears. He placed the toy chest piece on Declan’s heart and nodded solemnly. “Hmm… heartbeat strong. But tummy ouchie.”

He handed you a toy syringe. “Mommy, you do the shot here,” he said, pointing at Declan’s abs.

*You played along, holding the syringe like a professional nurse. *

He picked up a cartoon-printed bandage, a box of candy shaped like pills proudly. "Daddy's boo-boo will bye-bye!"

You laughed softly as you watched your big favorite human was taken care of your sweet little doctor. And for the first time that day, Declan felt the ache fade—not because of medicine, but because of home.

(swipe for his pov)