Dylan's day has been the worst he's had in years. All he's done is treat boring cases and argue with his ex-wife. When the chance at treating an explosion patient comes he jumps at it. But why is everyone acting so strange around him, is there something that they know that he doesn't?
Angsty Sam and Dylan oneshot set in the middle of series 32. I wrote this ages ago, way before we knew about the big explosion episodes at the start of series 33. I think I might've cursed my favourite character, sorry Sam!
He slammed the patient files down on his desk with a thump. Sitting down, he leant forwards on the table and held his head in his hands. Why had today turned into the worst and most boring day ever? All he had seen were broken wrists and pulled ligaments, no interesting ailments or problems to treat. The only thing that had happened that wasn't boring was his conversation with his ex-wife. Even then, his 'conversation' with Sam hadn't been good, it had been anything but that.
He had been going through some notes when she had appeared beside him. Ignoring her, he had just concentrated on the paperwork hoping that she would go away. After about two minutes of silence she had spoken. Her voice had broken his concentration and he found it extremely difficult to ignore.
"Dylan," she began, "I was wondering if I could to talk to you?" Dylan didn't answer. What did she want? He stayed silent and continued to ignore her. To his annoyance she didn't give up. "Please Dylan, it won't take long, I just need to ask you something." He sighed heavily and turned in her direction.
"What?" His voice was harsh and dry. Most people would've shuddered at this but not Sam. That just showed how long she had known him. She was no longer affected by his harshness, she just took it all in her stride.
"I just wanted to check that you are okay, you know, after... well... umm..." Her voice fell into a mumble as she realised she couldn't really word her question. Sam turned away from Dylan's eyes slightly, seeming to take a sudden interest in watching a pot of pens. He groaned internally, knowing exactly what she was trying to ask him.
"I'm fine." His answer was short but firm. He picked up his paperwork and turned to leave the office. He was stopped by her soft hand holding onto his arm. Sam moved in front of him, looking straight at him with a slight look of concern.
"I want you to know that I'm here if you need to talk." Dylan rolled his eyes. Ever since everyone had found out about his alcoholism they had all had a conversation with him like this. He knew that they didn't actually care, they were all too wrapped up in their own problems to want to help. It was even worse that Sam wanted to help. He knew what she was up to; she was curious. Not only curious, but nosy. This was typical Sam. She liked to stick her nose into other people's problems. Nearly always she would end up making things worse. Dylan didn't want her help.
"You know that I've been told this by nearly everyone," he replied dryly, "That's all the people here seem to really care about; talking. I wish they knew that some people hate talking. Some people would rather they were left alone to sort their life out by themselves and actually do better that way. I'm one of them. So no thanks Sam, I won't be needing to talk."
He gave his ex-wife a sarcastic smile before shaking away her hold and walking off to find somewhere else to work.
"I'm worried about you Dylan."
Her voice stopped him in his tracks. Did she really just say that? After all she had done to him; cheating, the divorce, rubbing her ability to move on in his face, did she really still care? How could she? The anger inside of him started to bubble. His patience which he had held up until that point broke. Turning back, he stormed towards her, the office door shutting with a loud thud. When he was sure that only she would hear him he began to talk, his words filled with anger and annoyance.
"Worried about me, how can you say that?" He watched as Sam's expression changed into confusion. Her lips fell into a frown and she cocked her head slightly to one side.
"I don't quite understand." Dylan nearly laughed, was she really that naive that she couldn't understand why?
"Well," he began, "Where do I start? You can't say you care about me because I know for a fact you don't. If you really did then you wouldn't have done all the stupid and hurtful things that you have." He could hear his voice loudening, he was now shouting at Sam. If it wasn't for him concentrating so hard on making his stupid ex-wife understand why she was so clearly at fault then he might've noticed the eyes of his colleagues all watching as he and Sam argued.
Sam went to interrupt him, most likely to try and pin the blame back on him, but he kept on going. "If you really cared about me then why did you cheat on me with some random squaddie or divorce me when I was willing to forgive you. Or how about when you rubbed it in my face every day that you had happily moved on with Dr Kent, well, is that what you call caring for someone?" He scowled at Sam with hatred in his eyes.
"I only slept with him because I was trying to save our marriage. You were being so distant from me. You weren't doing anything to try and save our crumbling relationship. I thought that if I made you fight for us that it would help, make you open up and reconnect with me. I can see now that it would've made no difference. If I had known that your addiction was causing it then I might've cut you some slack, I would've tried to help but you didn't even have the heart to tell me."
"I kept something private. I didn't want everyone to know that I wasn't coping well," he replied icily, "And anyways, you were nearly always off in some far away country. It wasn't really something I could bring up during a conversation on the phone."
Sam was now shouting too. Their voices echoing out of the small office and into the rest of the department, loud enough for everyone to hear. "I was your wife Dylan, no matter what I would've helped. You are so closed off and emotionless, I hope you know that. You don't let anyone get close to you, you're scared of letting people in. I used to think that you were an amazing person, I found you funny and interesting. Now I think that you're nothing more than a self-centred pig! I don't know how I ever fell in love with you!"
Sam's words stung him hard. He wasn't self-centred. He knew that other people existed and that their feelings mattered, the only thing was that he couldn't always deal with them. She went to argue but he stopped her. He threw his arm out, pointing in the direction of the door.
"Get out Samantha, I don't need your help and I never will. Go do your job and help people who need it instead of harassing me when I don't."
She gave him one final glare before storming back out into the ED. As she left she muttered something under her breath but Dylan couldn't catch her words. Blood pounded in his ears like the beat of a thousand drums. His hands were clenched tightly in fists and he could sense that his face was red with anger.
Slowly he tried to calm himself down, taking slow and deep breaths. It took a while but soon he felt like he moderately resembled someone who hadn't had a screaming match with their ex-wife. He sat back down and he soon finished all of the mounds of paperwork that came with being a consultant.
Checking his watch he saw that it was half past one; time for his lunch break. He picked up a nearby medical journal and sandwich box before heading for the staff room to relax and read.
About twenty minutes into his well earned break he was interrupted by his clinical lead's voice talking quite loudly about something. Dylan tried to focus his attention back onto his book but he kept hearing snippets of what Dr Hardy was saying:
Problems with the Paramedic team... major explosion... injured... critical condition... being brought in straight away... everyone should prepare...
These words caught Dylan's attention. An explosion victim, now that was an interesting case. There would be burns, dust and smoke inhalation, broken even shattered bones, organ damage, possible brain damage, the list could go on. Setting the book down on the staff room table, he stood up to go wait at the ED's entrance. If he could he was going to try and be the doctor who took on this case. It would be a massive improvement to the so far boring cases he'd treated previously in the day.
As he walked past the minors section he spotted Charlie and Duffy talking out of the corner of his eye. They were standing close to each other and talking in hushed voices. He could feel their eyes upon him as they spoke. Dylan found this quite strange. These two weren't normally ones for gossiping. He brushed it off, not wanting to worry about it at that moment. People could be weird sometimes. Most likely it was just a coincidence that they were looking in his direction, their conversation would be about something totally different.
He continued towards the entrance, hoping that he still had a chance at taking on the case.
"Dr Keogh, could I talk to you for a minute?"
He groaned quietly, hoping that this wouldn't take long. He walked through the door of the Clinical lead's office and up to the desk covered in files and books. Behind it sat his Clinical lead; Dr Ethan Hardy, looking quite worried, but then again he nearly always did.
"What is it," he asked flatly. Ethan seemed quite fidgety, as if there was something bothering the young consultant. He inhaled deeply before he began to talk.
"I just wanted to check that you're okay."
Not again. This was the second time today. Dylan nearly replied with something quite rude before he remembered who he was talking to. This was his Clinical lead, his boss. If he said something bad, which he nearly had, then he might lose his job. Clenching his hands subtly into a fist, he let all of his annoyance fall away. There, his patience was restored.
"Yes, I'm fine Ethan."
Without waiting for Ethan's reply he turned and left. As he walked he thought about Dr Hardy's reason for asking about his feelings. Maybe he had heard his argument with Sam. That was all he needed. He hated people knowing about his problems, preferring to keep his work and private life separate. If Ethan had heard who else had?
Eventually he made it to the front entrance of the Emergency Department but not before noticing something slightly weird. On his way through the department he had noticed multiple doctors and nurses looking at him with a strange expression. A look of pity, like they were somehow feeling sorry for him. Whilst he leant against a wall awaiting his desired patient one of the nurses approached him, also with a look of sympathy spread across his face.
"Dr Keogh, are you feeling okay?"
Though David was his friend, sort of, Dylan felt like slapping him. Slapping him very hard. Why? Why was everyone asking if he was okay? It was really driving him up the wall. This time Dylan's ability to remain calm disappeared quicker than it had with Dr Hardy.
"I don't know, why wouldn't I be?" He snapped, feeling quite fed up with everyone so far. David jumped slightly, Dylan's sudden outburst taking him by surprise.
"Umm... well.." he stammered, "It's just... the incoming patient... injuries..." Dylan watched as the nurse tried to explain himself but obviously couldn't. David turned away from him and quickly walked away, looking extremely awkward and mumbling to himself. Why would he be affected by the explosion patient? It wasn't as if he had seen blast injuries before, his time in the ED meant that he had seen varying levels of trauma caused by an explosion.
The clattering of wheels on the hard ground pulled him out of his thoughts. The patient had arrived. Quickly readjusting his stethoscope, he walked forward to take on the case.
"Dr Keogh, wait!"
Charlie caught up with Dylan and stood in front of him, blocking his route to the patient. He tried to push past the senior nurse but was stopped by him moving in his path.
"You can't treat that patient Dylan," Charlie replied with a clear voice, "It wouldn't be ethical in the slightest."
His patience shattered for the third time that day. Why couldn't he treat the patient? It wasn't like he wasn't experienced enough, in fact he was one of the most experienced doctors in the department. Why wouldn't it be ethical? He could feel the blood pound quicker around his body. What the hell was wrong with everyone?
Pushing harder than before, Dylan moved past Charlie and walked up to meet the incoming paramedic team. He could hear Charlie and Duffy shouting for him to stop but he just ignored them. His day so far had been one of the dullest he'd had in years, he deserved an interesting case like this. He was met by Iain who was pushing the trolley through the doors.
His eyes were puffy and red; obvious signs that the young paramedic had been crying. When Iain saw Dylan he looked away, seemingly not able to make eye contact. Another paramedic, whose name had slipped from Dylan's mind, appeared from behind Iain and began to list off the patients details and injuries.
"Thirty year old female involved in a strong explosion. She was only ten metres from the sight of explosion so she's taken the majority of the blast's force causing Quaternary blast injuries. SAT's 10 percent, decreased heart rate and blood pressure is 60 over 40. She has Pulmonary contusion to both lungs. Full-thickness and fourth-degree burns to arms, torso and face. Patient has multiple fractures to right arm, both legs, chest and pelvis. Possible severe neck and brain injuries..."
The paramedic continued to list the details whilst Dylan looked down to assess the patient for himself. His whole body froze. It couldn't be...
He took in the person lying in front of him. His eyes widened in worry and shock. No words could describe how much this made him hurt inside. A cold sweat began to form on his face and his body was shaking uncontrollably. He couldn't take it. Stumbling backwards, he began to mumble quiet words of denial. Maybe if he wished hard enough then it the scene in front of him would just cease to exist.
"No," he stuttered in a barely audible voice, "It can't be... It can't be her."
He ran his fingers through his short hair, hoping that this action would bring him the ability to think straight. It didn't.
A warm hand touched down on his shoulder. Beside him appeared two friendly faces offering some words of comfort. Duffy's voice was warm and caring as she tried to calm him down.
"Let the doctors treat her. You can wait in the relative's room if you like. It'll give you a chance to get your head together." Charlie began to talk too, trying to achieve the same as his wife.
"Come on Dylan, you need to let them treat her." Charlie's hold started to pull on Dylan's shoulder. He knew that the nurse was trying to get him to leave but he couldn't move, he refused to.
This wasn't happening. He wished that it was all just a dream, that he could blink and make it all go away. But he couldn't. In his head he thought back to the past. All those years ago when it had been such a scary possibility were terrifying. He had known that one day he could come back to find his whole world turned upside down, but luckily he never did. And now, thousands of miles from that hell-hole. In a place where it should be safe for her, where nothing like this should happen. No explosions, no bomb threat, no chance of getting killed. But it had. It had happened in the place where she was meant to be safe from the harm she once faced.
Dylan couldn't handle it anymore. His emotions got the better of him and his eyes began to fill with tears. Slowly he returned to the patient's side. With his hand he reached out and carefully stroked her cheek, her once soft skin now scorched and dirty. As he took in her injuries properly he felt the tears slowly begin to trickle down his cheeks.
Her forehead bore a massive burn, the skin all blistered and black. He knew it would leave a permanent scar. Burns like this were littered all over her; arms, neck, face, legs. Her leg was stuck out at an awkward angle, clearly broken. The thing that made Dylan hurt the most was the expression the poor patient was wearing on her face; it was full of fear and pain.
Why had she let this happen to herself? He had always told her not to. Not to go and get herself involved in an explosion. Had she forgotten what he had said, or had she just ignored him like she had done on so many occasions?
He continued to stroke her cheek. Maybe she could feel him. If she could he hoped that it would bring her even the slightest bit of comfort in amongst all the pain and fear. Whispering under his breath he started to talk to her. He didn't care that he wouldn't get a response, he just hoped that she would hear him and know that he was with her.
"I thought I told you not to do this, not to get yourself blown up."
The flow of tears suddenly got stronger as he could take it no longer. He was blinded by his tears as he finished speaking. His question ringing in his ears as he wished he knew the answer.
"Oh Sammy, why didn't you listen to me?"
Word count- 3062 words