Chapter Text
Where is she? Where is she?
Feet crunch under a half-foot of snow, and he nearly skids where the white has turned to brown slush just inside the doors. Stupid, isn’t it? The emergency room is where people who are already injured come for help, and he’s a second away from cracking his head on the ground because he doesn’t know how to walk. The middle-aged man slides up to reception, steadying his breath and pulling off his tuque. His hair’s a mess and he does his best to flatten it and look as decent as possible.
“Sheriff Lopis,” the receptionist perks up, surprised to see him here so soon. “She’s—”
“Where is she,” he says at the same time as the woman behind the counter.
The receptionist smiles and tries again, entirely sympathetic to his plight. “She’s just finished triage, she’s in the waiting room.” She leans forward, dropping her voice—you know, the way that preludes obvious gossip. “Dr. Wolfe’s boy is with her.”
“Dr. Wolfe?”
“Yes, you know. The new family in town.” ‘If you could even call two people a proper family’ hangs in the air, unspoken. It’s a small town with small town values. New people get everyone talking and well, there’s a lot of judgement to pass when you’ve spent your whole life looking at the same faces for most of your life.
“Right, yes.” Andras nods, remembering the land that was sold on the outskirts of town. He’d had to drive up a couple of times to issue some warnings. Nothing major, just people complaining to complain because they don’t like change. A noise complaint doesn’t make much sense when the place is so far out, he needed to take a car or horse out. He remembers how huge the dig was and that was just to pour the foundation. He had a lot of questions at the time, but his department has about five people total, so there wasn’t much time to accord to nosiness.
“Anyway, won’t be long. I’m sure Dr. Wolfe will want to see what the commotion is all about himself. His son—”
“Thank you, Debbie,” Andras says quickly before he’s given more gossip and it seems a little unfair to be talking about the new guy and his kid. “You have a good day now.” He turns to head to the waiting room, and just before he’s out of earshot, he hears the woman turn to her colleague and say, ‘poor guy, he’s out of his depth’. He should feel bad, but she’s not wrong.
He sighs. He really is out of his depth.
It’s not that Andras didn’t want to be a father. He tried, actually, to be present, but he was too damn young and his girlfriend at the time didn’t want anything to do with him. They married because that’s what you did in a small town, and it lasted a year before she told him she was tired. Luciana was meant for the big city, so she left. She went to college somewhere fancy because Lucy was smart as hell, and her tongue was sharp. Fatherhood didn’t come naturally. While Lucy was living her dream, Andras was raising a toddler while juggling working for the local police department. That meant even longer hours, but his team were good people and they let Kiera hang around the sheriff’s office when he needed to patrol.
Then, when Lucy was ready, she came back and took Kiera.
It—
It was hard. He didn’t want to let her go, but Andras is amenable and he always does the right thing. In the five years that she was gone, he’d heard it time and time again: a girl should be with her mother. Whatever he was doing, it wasn’t good enough. Plus, he was still a while out before getting a promotion from regular officer and Lucy had a big job in the city working in legal for a fashion magazine. She really was a killer woman, and he means that in the best, most affectionate way. It made him wonder who he would be if he had any ambition. Working in law enforcement suits him. The path is straightforward and the expectations are the same out of all of them. He likes the rigid direction.
As the years went by, Kiera grew older and she became someone Andras didn’t know. Holidays weren’t nearly enough, but Lucy was busy and neither of them wanted to put a little kid on the plane alone. Then, when she got to her teens—in the blink of an eye, by the way—she’d come over during weekends. More often if she was fighting with her mother. Andras wanted so much to get along with her and be cool that he gave her whatever she wanted, including space. He never pushes when she’d rather eat in her room, and asks questions only when he worries about safety like late nights coming back home. The last thing he expected was for her to move here. Lucy got married—he didn’t go—and Kiera wanted to give them space for her last year of high school. For college, he already knows she’ll chase some dream that’s too big for a small town, just like her mother.
The sound of her voice bickering with another boy helps him locate her. As soon as she sees him, she rolls her eyes. He tries not to take it to heart; she’s a teenager, and teens don’t want their parents around, especially since he’s the top snitch, like, as a job.
“Dad, I’m fine.” Kiera insists.
“No, no, he should know you’re a dumbass,” the other kid snarls.
“Hey!” Andras won’t have anyone insulting his girl, and he has no qualms snapping at a kid.
“F—” The teenage boy starts.
“Lambert,” clips a cool, calm voice. The name isn’t spoken loudly, but the tone contains authority. Andras turns to face… to face the handsomest doctor alive? His brows raise, and he’s not sure if he’s jaw dropped, but it sure as hell feels like it. He can’t be real. The doctor doesn’t smile, he simply keeps talking, addressing Andras now. “He’s adopted.” He says, completely deadpan.
“Thank fuck,” Lambert hisses. “Like I’d want to look like your ugly ass.” He turns to Kiera and jabs his thumb at his adopted father. “He’s impotent.”
Kiera laughs, but for some reason or another, Andras finds his cheeks heating. It’s such a random piece of information, but it feels intimate. He shouldn’t be thinking about the hot doctor’s dick functionality and yet, here he is. He clears his throat.
“I’m Kiera’s father.” Andras sticks out his hand.
“Sheriff Lopis. Pleasure to finally meet you.”
The handshake is nice and firm. He expected the doctor to have soft hands, but they’re rough. And cold. Really cold. “It’s a chilly day,” Andras says stupidly, cursing himself for mentioning it at all. “Um,” he adds quickly, glancing at the embroidered name on the doctor’s lab coat. “Will you be the one seeing Kiera, Dr. Wolfe?”
Lambert makes a gagging noise, but it makes Kiera laugh and Andras tries not to take offense at it. It’s good that she’s making friends here; she usually keeps to herself, waiting to head back to the city where her real life is. It makes sense, two new kids bonding together. He also makes a point not to think too much of it. You know, a boy hanging around his baby girl.
“I will. Miss Lopis, if you’ll follow me. Lambert, stay.”
“I’m not a fuckin’ dog! I saved her ass, I should come.”
Dr. Wolfe levels his son with a look. He says nothing before turning on his heel and heading towards his examination room. Andras waits for his daughter and follows.
“I’m not a kid, dad. I can go by myself.”
“You’re not of legal age,” Dr. Wolfe says dryly. “Your father will come.” He pauses, staring at Andras long enough to make him want to squirm. Then, he keeps walking, waiting for them both to enter. The doctor doesn’t miss a beat, holding Kiera’s chart—paper, not digital like in the city—and asking her questions. “So, you’re here for your wrist? Possible fracture, but most likely a sprain? How exactly did it happen?”
Kiera glances at Andras and he nods, gentle but encouraging.
“I slipped in the school parking lot and fell.” She says, but her words trail towards something, like the end of her story still lies ahead. “And a car almost hit me. Lambert stopped it. With his bare hands. I saw it!”
There’s a flicker of alarm in her voice, and that sets off Andras’ protectiveness towards his daughter. “What do you mean?”
“I mean,” she says, turning towards her father. “He just showed up in front of me, put his hand out and stopped the car from hitting me.”
Andras’ brows raise. That’s not… possible. He’s not in the business of calling his daughter a liar, nor does he plan on dismissing her. Even if it was true, what is he supposed to do with that information? Tell the world? Doesn’t seem like his business. That would make him a gossip like everyone else in town and the Sheriff, of all people, should be dealing in facts, not fiction.
“It’s the ice,” Dr. Wolf says suddenly. “And physics. Science often makes the impossible seem like magic. Have a seat here.” He motions to the examination table. He starts by listening to her heart.
“What I saw wasn’t physics. There was a fucking dent in the van!” Kiera argues, and the doctor doesn’t bother to ask her to stop so he can hear.
“Physics, adrenaline and piss-poor modern manufacturing,” he counters, moving on to check her pupils, her ears, her throat and finally her wrist.
“I know what I saw.”
“And I believe her,” Andras chimes in, much to his daughter’s surprise. Has he really given her the impression after all these years that he wouldn’t support her. “We can send Lambert a card and some thank you chocolates. For saving you.”
“What?” Kiera says, looking horrified. “Why would we do that? That’s so cringe. I just want him to admit it. Ouch!” She glares at the doctor who looks as impassive as ever. “Whatever, I’m sure there will be TikToks of what happened later. Nothing ever happens in this town, anyway.”
“Lean forward. I’ll be checking your lower back for bruises.”
“Ouch!” Kiera complains, and Andras hovers closer. He doesn’t think the doctor is hurting her, but that’s his baby.
“On a scale of one to ten, how is your pain?”
“Stop touching it and it won’t hurt!”
Dr. Wolfe steps back, almost straight into Andras. He turns to him, likely to question why he’s in his space, and their faces are awfully—awkwardly—close to each other. For the first time in the whole encounter, Dr. Wolf smiles. Gods, it’s blinding. Andras blinks at him, dumbfounded. He hears his daughter, distantly, saying something, but her words are muffled in the face of his awe. He smells nice.
“You’re in my way.”
“Oh, shit!” Andras says, face burning bright red. “Sorry, sorry.”
“Dad!”
The handsome doctor’s nostrils flare in amusement, a silent huff of laughter, as he leans against his desk and writes notes down in Kiera’s chart. “You’ve got a sprained wrist. The nurse will wrap it up for you and show you how to do it yourself. You’ll need to R.I.C.E. it.”
“Rest, ice, compress and elevate.” Andras says helpfully.
“Ugh,” Kiera says, rolling her eyes. “Teacher’s pet.”
“You’ll also see some bruising. Feel free to ice any areas where you’re sore. Avoid hot baths, it’ll make any swelling worse. For any pain, you should be fine with over the counter painkillers.” Dr. Wolfe writes everything down on a piece of paper and hands it to her. “And sending a thank you card is not cringe. It’s kind.”
Kiera mumbles her thanks under her breath.
“And for you,” Dr. Wolfe hands Andras a pamphlet. “Don’t forget to give blood. You’d be saving lives.”
His fingers brush against Andras’, and it sends a shiver down the sheriff’s spine. Andras must be imagining things. The doctor is just being nice, and Andras has been single for so long, he’s imagining things. He doesn’t even like men—or, well, there was that one time, but he hasn’t thought about it in a long time and dating didn’t seem like a priority anyway, especially with Kiera—
“Thanks,” is all Andras manages to say before ushering his daughter out to the nurse. He pauses, then heads back to Dr. Wolfe’s office much to Kiera’s dismay. (She’s embarrassed, she’s so embarrassed.)
“Dr. Wolfe.” The other man looks up at him, sharp blue eyes boring through him and Andras starts to doubt himself. He’s suddenly feeling like he’s wasting Dr. Wolfe’s time which must be very important, being a doctor and all. “If you ever need someone to show you around town. I don’t think there’s anyone better for the job than the Sheriff.” Lame, lame, lame. Oh god, you are so la—
“Are you free on Sunday?”
Andras’ brows raise. “Uh, yes. Of course!” Even if he wasn’t, he would make time.
“Why do you look so surprised? Don’t tell me you offered and was hoping I’d say no?”
“No, I didn’t think you’d say yes.”
Dr. Wolfe huffs in muted amusement.
“Okay, cool, I’ll see you Sunday. At the police station?”
“Very well.”
“Cool,” Andras grins. Actually, he has been grinning because his cheeks start to feel sore. He pops his tuque back on, an ugly brown thing with a gold sheriff’s logo embroidered on its front. “See you,” he says again.
“Sheriff Lopis,” Dr. Wolfe calls from his office before Andras gets away. “Only my patients and acquaintances call me doctor. You can call me Johan.”
Andras flushes soft pink. He can’t think of something nearly as cool as that. “Well, since I’ll be off duty, you can call me Andy.”