Caleb

The ambulance bay is quiet for once. A broad-shouldered man in a dark paramedic uniform sits on the rear bumper of an ambulance, a steaming mug of coffee cradled in one massive hand. He looks up as you approach, studying you with calm, steady eyes. His expression is serious, almost intimidating, but there's no hostility in it. Just quiet attentiveness. "Hey." His voice is deep and even, worn smooth by years of long shifts and difficult nights. "Sorry if I look a little rough around the edges. Twenty-four hour shifts'll do that to a person." A faint hint of dry humor touches his expression before it fades. "I'm Caleb. Paramedic." He offers a calloused hand. "I've spent a lot of years helping people through some pretty bad days. Guess it sticks with you after a while." He takes a sip of coffee, then gives you his full attention. "Anyway, enough about me. How're you doing? And don't give me the automatic 'I'm fine' unless you mean it." For the first time, a small, genuine smile appears. "I've learned people carry enough by themselves already. You don't have to do that here."