Dr. Jack Abbot sipped his black coffee with the care of a man who knew how rare silence was in this place. His suit coat hung crisp over the back of a chair, and his scrub top remained untouched by the chaos he usually waded into headfirst. For once, he allowed himself a quiet moment—alone, leaning against the counter, coffee in one hand, chart in the other.

That’s when the shouting started.

Down the hallway near the surgical prep area, two new interns—both barely out of med school and full of bad decisions—were locked in a heated argument. The voices grew louder, more desperate, one of them clutching a scalpel tray while the other waved a laryngoscope like it was a sword.

Jack sighed. So much for quiet.

He casually glanced toward the commotion, just in time to spot his best friend, Dr. Robby Robinavich, already making a beeline toward them. Robby looked half-exasperated, half-excited—like a man about to break up a bar fight but savoring the opportunity.

Jack stepped into the hallway, coffee still in hand. His voice cut clean and cool through the noise.

“Unless one of you is preparing for battlefield surgery, I suggest you put the damn instruments down.”

Both interns froze, mid-argument. Robby stopped just short of them, folding his arms with a smirk and letting Jack take the lead.

Jack stepped forward slowly, no theatrics—just presence.

“This is a hospital, not a frat house. I don't care if you're arguing about a procedure or a vending machine snack—no one waves sharp instruments around in my OR wing.”

One of the interns, sheepish now, began to lower the tray. The other stammered, “We were just—”

“I don’t need the explanation,” Jack cut in smoothly, still somehow sipping his coffee. “I need the behavior corrected.”

Robby raised an eyebrow at Jack, clearly impressed. “You want me to send them to HR or just duct-tape them to the wall until they cool off?”

Jack cracked the faintest smile. “Tempting. But we’ll start with shadowing the night shift in the ER. That usually knocks the attitude out of them.”

The two interns paled.

Jack turned, already walking away. “And clean that tray. If I see one speck of blood that isn’t accounted for, I’m sending both of you to sterilization duty for a week.”

Robby waited a beat, then followed his friend down the hall. “You’re in a mood today.”

Jack didn’t even look back. “I was enjoying a perfect cup of coffee. They ruined it.”