i may have started a divorced single mom zoey + pediatrician mira au? coming to an ao3 near you this week. tossing the twenty minute sprint that started the brainworms at you.
A loud sob breaks out of her daughter as her small body makes contact with cement, further exacerbated by the sharp crack of glass as the grocery bag in Zoey's arms hits the ground next to her.
"Oh, baby, it's okay," Zoey coos, dropping to the sidewalk carelessly to assess the damage.
I-seo is on her knees, one leg curled under her, while her other calf sits parallel to her thigh. Panic blooms across Zoey's chest as she notices the angle of the one leg — she's not a doctor, not by a long shot, but something about it doesn't look quite right.
The feeling isn't helped by the agitated cries leaving the four year old. I-seo has never been a particularly fussy child, she almost never gets upset and rarely ever cries — not like this anyway. Not when she's overstimulated, not when she's sad, and certainly not any other time she has tripped over her own feet. Which probably means this is more than just a scraped knee or some bruising flesh.
To make matters worse, Zoey is tired. Far too tired to be kneeling in front of her daughter trying to figure out if something is sprained or broken without falling apart herself. She admits she's always been a bit of a cry baby when she doesn't get a full night's sleep, something about not being able to regulate her emotions properly while running on empty — and this week she's been running on fumes, amassing a grand total of twelve hours of in four days — which isn't exactly helpful when trying to remain calm while her kid is sobbing uncontrollably in the middle of the street, and she's trying not to think about how she's going to have to go grocery shopping again, and—
A low, gentle voice cuts across her spiraling thoughts with quite possibly the worst question, in Zoey's humble — and not at all distressed — opinion. "Is she okay?"
"I don't know." Zoey chokes back a sob. Because she doesn't and she's definitely in a losing battle against her sanity, and now there's some stranger with a soothing voice witnessing this whole ordeal, and honestly she doesn't know if—
"Hi, little one," the woman next to her says, crouching beside the two of them. She wiggles her fingers in front of I-seo before placing her hand, palm up, within the four year old's reach. "My name is Mira, can you tell me your name?"
I-seo's cries don't subside, they only get louder and more raucous, and honestly Zoey can't fault her. She's in shock, she's in pain, and now there's the added stimulus of someone asking her a question that her brain is too overwhelmed to answer.
"That's okay, I wouldn't be able to answer either if I was in pain," Mira says gently before looking at Zoey and gesturing at the crying four year old in front of them.
"I-seo," she manages to rasp out.
"I-seo," she says with a warm smile, moving her focus back to Zoey's daughter. "That's a beautiful name. I'm a pediatrician, do you know what that is I-seo?"
For some reason that's the question that does it. I-seo's attention snaps to the woman in front of her, suddenly mesmerized by the way her long pink hair sways in the breeze. She shakes her head, breathing still a little frenzied as her bottom lip quivers in an effort to keep her tears at bay.
"I'm a doctor for kids," Mira explains, pulling out a stethoscope from the bag by her feet. She wraps it around I-seo's neck carefully, taking the bell and placing it in one of I-seo's small hands. "Is it okay if I take a look at your legs so you can tell me what hurts? You took a really hard fall."
"Y-ye," I-seo blubbers out between hiccups. "Yes, please, Dr. Mira."
