Outlet for my feelings for Sister Bernadette's inner war. First fanfic on this site and first in this fandom so I am nervous. Unbeta'd. Uh enjoy...

The memory of his lips on her hand was fresh in her mind. It was like watching action with time going slow, he was walking away through the hall and out of the door as she watched. Her breathing laboured and her hand tingling from the remnants of warmth and the returning sting of pain. Everything within her hurt, she placed a hand on her chest and slow hot tears trailed her cheeks, her world falling in on itself. How could this be happening?

Sister Bernadette walked slowly through the crowd back to Nonnatus House being careful to avoid the others still enjoying their day. The emotions within her made the rest of the fair pointless to her and she longed to be back in the chapel on her knees praying. She felt queasy and her chest ached but not with a pain so easily cured but medical practice. She reached home without remembering the walk and put her bag down in the doorway. Walking slowly she moved to the kitchen and got a glass of water that she gulped down. Her eyes felt swollen and sticky from crying so she rubbed them softly, careful not to move her wounded hand too much.

As she walked up the stairs she looked at the graze, it had started clotting and would be fine in a few days. She wondered what had made her agree to let Doctor Turner look at it; she knew it would be okay.

She stood in the hallway and closed her eyes watching Doctor Turner take her hand slowly tracing his fingers across her palm. The way it tickled slightly and left a tingling pathway. She remembers vividly the moment he closed his eyes slowly and gently kissed her hand. It had been too much and she panicked. She remembered looking at the blackboard of the kitchen; barely realising she had turned from him. The moment she thought about it she longed to turn back but knew she couldn't, or at least shouldn't.

She couldn't lie to him either; she wanted him to know it was not his actions that resulted with her back to him but her confusion and her God. His fast paced steps away from her and out of the hall still haunted her as she slowly started moving. Her heart beat fast and she remembered the sense of loss his leaving had caused. How could she feel this? Why would He do this?

On reaching her room, Sister Bernadette picked up her Bible and slowly flicked it to the page she needed, 'Psalm 57' slowly she read each line, feeling it from her heart as she pleaded with God.

" ˡ Be merciful unto me, O God, be merciful unto me: for my soul trusteth in thee: yea, in the shadow of thy wings will I make my refuge, until these calamities be overpast."

She felt her eyes fill with previously unshed tears. Slowly they fell one by one.

"2 I will cry unto God most high; unto God that performeth all things for me."

She squinted at the page as her tears fell, knowing the words she was reading were everything she believed and yet wondered why they hurt so much.

"3 He shall send from heaven, and save me from the reproach of him that would swallow me up. Selah. God shall send forth his mercy and his truth."

She paused at this. Wishing and praying as hard as she could. She mediated on God's promise of mercy and yet felt no relief. Her tears still fell.

"4 My soul is among lions: and I lie even among them that are set on fire, even the sons of men, whose teeth are spears and arrows, and their tongue a sharp sword."

The tears were less frequent now and her chest heaved as she breathed. She lifted her Bible a little straighter and carried on reading trying to find solace in the words written so long ago but that she knew were still as true as ever.

"5 Be thou exalted, O God, above the heavens; let thy glory be above all the earth.

6 They have prepared a net for my steps; my soul is bowed down: they have digged a pit before me, into the midst whereof they are fallen themselves. Selah.

7 My heart is fixed, O God, my heart is fixed: I will sing and give praise.

8 Awake up, my glory; awake, psaltery and harp: I myself will awake early.

9 I will praise thee, O Lord, among the people: I will sing unto thee among the nations.

10 For thy mercy is great unto the heavens, and thy truth unto the clouds.

11 Be thou exalted, O God, above the heavens: let thy glory be above all the earth."

She closed the book and wiped her cheeks clearing them of any evidence of tears. She smiled slightly feeling a bit better. Her head still spun and her heart still ached but she knew she wasn't alone and had a guide she could turn to.

Placing her book on the bedside table, Sister Bernadette stood and straightened her habit. She breathed in deeply and sighed. Then she left her room and walked the familiar root to the chapel.

Standing opposite the stained glass windows she looked up at the figures. The colours still mesmerised her, even after all the time she had spent there. She looked at the cross and subconsciously clasped her own wooden cross hanging from her neck. It wasn't an easy life, and it wasn't an easy decision but when she had first come here she knew peace like she had never thought possible.

She was thinking and praying and so much in her own world she didn't hear anyone enter the chapel until they spoke.

"Sister?"

Turning, Sister Bernadette was faced with Sister Julienne's worried face and kind eyes.

"Sister, what is troubling you?" Sister Julienne walked over to her and took her hands. Before she could stop herself Sister Bernadette felt hot tears falling down her cheeks again.

Anyone on tumblr I can be found by searching Cozibizzle. My input to the Call the Midwife facebook page made my day but no links are working on this so add me on tumblr as I have posted it on there. :)

Review and please let me know if you want it continued and if you have ideas on where it should go.

Love love xxx