Normally, I start writing something and it takes me weeks (sometimes months) before I post it. And sometimes it just sits in my drafts forever (there are SO many!).
But tonight, for whatever reason, this happened. It might sound a little rushed but it had to be written - so here you go! Based on the Series 21, Episode 1 spoilers for Jac, Sacha and Ric's 'road trip' on New Year's Eve.
If anyone is interested and wants a second chapter with the voicemail message (you'll see what I mean), then let me know :)
Enjoy, and Happy New Year!
xx
And the bells were ringing out
It hadn't been the end to the year that he had planned.
Then again, the whole year had been disastrous from the start.
It had been one of the most difficult years of his life between his own battle with depression and the horrors that had been inflicted on the hospital just weeks before the year began, and it wouldn't be a lie to say that he was happy to see the back of it. He had had to watch Essie, the woman he tried to convince himself on a daily basis that he no longer loved, grieve for her husband only months after they were married.
He had seen the disappointment, and later pity in Ric's eyes as he talked Sacha off the hospital rooftop after he had lost a patient that had become such a dear friend.
And he had stood by helplessly as his best friend, one of the people he loved most in the world, fought for her life. On more than one occasion. He would have taken any rooftop, would have swapped places with her in a heartbeat, if it meant Jac would be safe. But there was nothing he could do.
If it wasn't for Fletch he would have agreed with Guy and given up in theatre. He had known that Jac would want him to prioritise Emma over anything, and yet looking back on it he couldn't shake the feeling that he had given up.
She had taught him to be strong and fight until you can't fight any longer, and yet he had agreed to give her the 'dignity' of dying on the ward instead of the operating table. If it wasn't for Fletch, Emma would have lost her mum and Sacha would have lost his best friend forever.
He could feel the familiar feeling of self-doubt begin to course through his veins, could hear the demons knocking at the door. All he had to do was invite them in.
But this was the last day of the year and he refused to let those thoughts consume him now.
Sacha had snuck out of the party in the hotel bar and found a quiet seating area in one of the hallways where he would take a breather. The party had been loud and busy, and although things hadn't gone as smoothly as planned, he was having fun. But it soon became claustrophobic, and noticing that both Jac and Ric had found someone to talk to, he slipped out without anyone noticing.
Or so he thought.
"Sacha?"
Sacha smiled slightly at the sound of her voice as he noticed the flash of a red dress pass by. She had meant it as a whisper, he could tell, and yet he would be surprised if anyone on the bottom floor of the hotel had not heard her.
There was a pause before she stumbled past again, catching herself on the door frame and grinning as she noticed Sacha sitting on the sofa.
"There you are," she pointed a finger in his direction. "Ric took my wine glass and I need you to tell him to give it back."
"Really," Sacha raised an eyebrow. "Since when do you ever take no for an answer?"
"Since I accidentally poured my last glass over the head of the woman he was flirting with."
"You what?" Sacha didn't know whether to laugh or not, or even if she was telling the truth.
"He told me I wouldn't do it, and so I did," she shrugged. "It was his own fault."
"How do you even get on to that conversation?"
Jac shrugged again.
"I can't remember."
Sacha knew for a fact that this time she was lying, and vowed to ask Ric later.
"Are you staying here?" She asked, holding on to the door frame to steady herself.
"For a little while longer," Sacha nodded.
"Good," Jac sighed as she made her way over, practically falling into the double sofa beside Sacha and instantly tucking up her knees as she leant her head against his chest. Sacha pulled his arm around her to let her snuggle in closer and smiled at how un-Jac like she became after a drink.
Sober Jac refused hugs. Or pretended to at least.
Drunk Jac became more like the person he knew she was. Warm, fun, sensitive. But still with her wicked tongue and fierce loyalty. He had a suspicion that the woman that was now wearing the contents of Jac's wine glass was probably asking for it, in one way or another.
"You're drunk," he smirked and heard her mumble an "I'm not" in response.
It hadn't taken much, of course. She hadn't drank much in over a year with the heavy-duty pain killers she had been living off. She didn't drink that much anyway, and he was sure she had lost weight over the past eighteen months after her numerous stays in hospital. She wasn't her normal self just yet; he could see her on the verge of tears since she had returned to work, and knew that he was one of the very few people who would have noticed the difference in her behaviour.
So when the wine started flowing it was no surprise that it had gone straight to her head. And he didn't mind one bit. She could have thrown glass after glass at him and he would have taken it, as long as she was safe again.
Jac sniffed and Sacha could feel her shiver slightly.
"Hey, what's wrong?" Sacha asked gently, noticing the tears running down Jac's cheeks.
"Nothing," she shook her head, gripping his shirt tighter. "I just really love you."
Sacha chuckled, brushing the hair off her face and wiping the tears from her cheeks.
"I think I should get you a glass of water."
"No," she shook her head. "Sacha, I'm worried."
"About?"
"I have a headache. And I feel sick, and I don't want it to all go wrong again," she sniffed. "I should be home with Emma instead of at this stupid convention, funding thing. What if this was my last Christmas with Emma and I chose being here over spending new year's eve with her?"
"Jac, stop it," Sacha sighed, wiping away her tears again. "I need you to think like a surgeon right now. If you were to turn up on the ward as a patient, with the symptoms you have, what would you say?"
"That's a rubbish example," Jac mumbled. "I've been a patient more than a surgeon this year so I wouldn't know what to say."
"Nonsense," Sacha said. "You're still the best surgeon I know. But what I meant is your headache and nausea are, without a doubt, a result of the numerous bottles of wine you have consumed tonight and nothing more sinister. Ok?"
Jac nodded against his chest and he felt her physically relax.
"Hence the water."
"No, I'm fine," Jac mumbled again and they both fell silent.
It was Jac that broke it.
"I've done something really stupid," she looked up at him, eyes wide and glistening. "And there's no way I can fix it."
"If it was the shot of tequila, I already know," he smirked but Jac shook her head, fresh tears sending mascara tracks down her cheeks.
"What did you do?"
She turned away again, tucking her head into his chest and he could feel her tears start to soak his shirt.
"Jac?"
"I called him."
Sacha was glad that Jac couldn't see the grin he was trying to hide. He knew exactly who she meant, he would have had to have been blind not to notice the signs over the past year.
"Called who?"
"It doesn't matter," Jac spoke quietly, wiping her cheeks. "It went to voicemail."
"Well that's a good thing, right?"
"No!" Jac cried, and Sacha couldn't stop the laugh that left his chest. "He's going to think that I'm an idiot."
"Believe me, Jac, that's the last thing he'll be thinking," he tried to sooth but knew that she wasn't listening.
"I can't even remember what I said, but I shouldn't have said it."
"When did you call him?" Sacha asked.
"After the third tequila."
"Brilliant," Sacha laughed. "Well, at least you have something to blame it on."
"Yeah, you and Ric. If you hadn't been arguing all evening I wouldn't have drank so much."
Sacha shrugged.
"I'm not going to argue with that one. Why did you call him?"
It was a leading question but he knew that even drunk Jac would notice.
"You know why," she mumbled without looking up.
There was a pause again and Sacha doubted very much that they would be rejoining the party and time soon.
"Sacha?"
"Yeah?"
"I do love you. You know that, don't you?"
"Yes, Jac," Sacha smiled. "I love you too."
"Please don't ever leave me. I know I'm a bitch, and I know people think that I'm cruel and manipulative and-"
"Jac-"
"No, it's fine. I know what they think. But I promise, no matter what, I'll be there if you need me. Ok?"
"I know."
"No, Sacha. I need you to understand. Promise me you'll never leave. That you'll never feel like you can't come to me."
She had turned to look at him again, her eyes fixed on his.
"I promise," he nodded with a smile. "I pinky promise. Emma taught me how to do it."
"Good," Jac seemed happy with this response and went back to snuggling under Sacha's arm, her head back on his chest. "What did you pinky promise Emma?"
"That's between myself and Emma," Sacha smiled sadly, hoping that she wouldn't ask any more. And she didn't.
It had been in the family room of the hospital that he had sat with Emma on his knee, her bright eyes watching him intently as he tried to explain to her that mummy was very tired and had to sleep for a little while longer. That he was going to look after her until mummy was better. He had watched her lip wobble and her eyes glisten, and yet just like her mum she had been brave. She had nodded her little head in understanding and tucked in for a cuddle, just like Jac had done now.
"But mummy will come home?" She had asked him, and although every cell of his body was screaming at him not to say it, not to give her false hope when he himself didn't quite believe it, he had nodded his head.
"You promise?"
No. He couldn't promise. Not again. Not after what had happened to Connor. He knew what damage those two words could do and he couldn't do it again. Not to Emma.
"I promise that I'll try everything I can. I promise that me and your daddy will look after you no matter what happens. And I promise that I will make sure that your mummy knows that you are here because I know that that will make her feel better."
"Ok," Emma nodded after thinking for a few seconds. "Do you pinky promise?"
She had held out her tiny little finger, her eyes fixed and determined, and he had never seen her look so much like her mother.
He held out his own hand and Emma looped her little finger around his before giving him another tight hug.
He had hated himself for weeks after at the thought of how close he had come to breaking that promise.
"Sacha?" Jac sounded tired and he could see her playing with the buttons on his shirt.
"Yes, Jac."
"Thank you."
"For what?"
"Saving my life. Again," sometimes Sacha was sure that Jac could read his mind. "For never giving up. If it was anyone else, they wouldn't be here like I am. I don't deserve you as my best friend. And I'm sorry for all the horrible things I've done to you. And that I'll probably continue to do to you."
"Hey," Sacha ran his hand along her back. "I know exactly what you're like. I know that you're stubborn and headstrong and can be difficult to work with. I know you have a heart of gold and would go above and beyond for your patients. And I know, no matter what, that you'll always be there when I need you, fighting my corner. Believe me Jac, you could never hurt me more than you have done already by threatening to leave me forever."
Jac sniffed again.
"I thought I'd lost you," Sacha sighed, holding back his own tears. "More than once. Every time I thought we had you back you were snatched away again, and I thought you'd never wake up. Fletch and I were so close to having the talk. We had tried everything, had called everyone we could think of, and even the best minds in medicine had no idea what to try next. I've never been so scared-"
"I'm sorry," Jac almost whispered, her grip on his shirt tightening again. "I'm sorry."
"You have nothing to apologise for," Sacha sighed again, pulling her in tighter. "You had no other choice. Every decision you made was for Emma. And it was because of Emma that Fletch and I agreed to keep fighting, even when it looked like all hope was lost."
"Jonny wouldn't."
"Wouldn't what?"
"Fight like Fletch did."
Sacha paused, knowing what she was thinking.
"I know you don't get on any more, but I promise you he was just as worried as us when I called him. Despite everything that's happened between you two, he knows how much you love Emma. How good a mum you are. He made me promise that we wouldn't give up until we had exhausted every option."
There was a silence, and Sacha couldn't work out whether she was thinking or had fallen asleep.
"Do you think I could call Evie and ask her to take her dad's phone?"
"No," Sacha laughed. "I don't think you should be calling anyone else."
"What have I done?" she groaned, closing her eyes tight. "Why did I call him?"
"You know why," Sacha repeated her earlier words and knew for a fact that, despite what she had slurred down the phone to Fletch, he wouldn't be disappointed with the message she left him.
"What time is it?"
"Ten to twelve," Sacha checked his watch and let his arm rest against Jac's back again.
She nodded slightly. Ten minutes left of a truly horrendous year, and Sacha wouldn't dream of spending it anywhere else.
"I love you," Jac repeated as she tucked her knees up tighter and Sacha felt her full weight on his chest as her breathing became heavy and he could tell that she had fallen asleep.
He grinned to himself as Ric appeared from the direction of the bar, a bottle of champagne in one hand and three glasses in the other.
"There you are," he nodded. "You're going to miss the bells."
He paused as he got closer, his eyebrows furrowed.
"Is she ok?" He asked and Sacha could hear the concern in his voice.
"She's fine," Sacha smiled. "Just had one too many glasses of bubbly."
Ric nodded again and fell into a chair opposite, pouring a glass of champagne and handing it to Sacha.
"What a year," he sighed as he leant back in the chair, loosening his tie.
"Understatement of the century," Sacha responded with a similar sigh.
There was a short pause as they both fell in to a comfortable silence as the minutes ticked by.
"You're missing the party," Sacha nodded towards the bar.
"I'm right where I want to be," Ric smiled, lifting his glass and Sacha smiled in return, lifting his own. "Happy new year, Mr Levy."
"Happy new year," Sacha grinned as the sound of Big Ben chimed from the tv in the bar.
He glanced down at Jac but she hadn't moved, her eyes fluttering slightly but still fast asleep.
A group of cheering doctors passed by the corridor, their laughter and cheering reverberating off the walls, and both Sacha and Ric smiled.
"I don't think Sleeping Beauty's going to be waking up any time soon, do you?" Sacha asked.
"Out for the count," Ric smiled. "I'm just glad it's alcohol related this time."
Sacha smiled weakly, brushing his hand over Jac's hair.
"I know she isn't the easiest person to get along with-" Sacha started but Ric raised his hand to stop him.
"I know," he smirked. "Jac and I have never been close, you know that. But if I was ever in trouble, she is one of the few people I would trust to save my life. You included in that list, of course."
Sacha nodded with a smile.
"No, I think we all need to take a leaf out of Jac's book. We need to be a bit more Naylor," Ric continued. "Say it how it is. Don't take no for an answer. Fight until your very last breath, even when it seems impossible. And believe me, there were a few times when I didn't think this would ever be possible again. She would have been sorely missed by us all if well, you know."
Ric nodded in Jac's direction then paused.
"She's definitely asleep, right?"
"Yes," Sacha laughed.
"Good. I wouldn't want to inflate her ego any more than it already is," Ric smirked and Sacha tried to stop the chuckle that threatened to escape in the worry that it would wake her.
Ric poured another glass for them both and leant back in the sofa, running a hand through his hair.
"Did Jac pour a glass of wine over someone?" Sacha asked, suddenly remembering his earlier conversation.
"Yes," Ric said simply, raising an eyebrow.
"Is that all I'm getting? It wasn't the blonde that you've been talking to for the last hour? Alana… Ariana… what was her name?"
"Arabella. And maybe."
"Come on!" Sacha smirked again. "What happened?"
"Well, she may or may not have started asking about the court case earlier this year. And then started to question my abilities as a surgeon. And whether I should even be here tonight."
"Oh."
"And Jac may or may not have stepped in and threatened to pour a glass of wine over her head if she didn't leave."
"And you told her she wouldn't do it," Sacha asked.
"Well I knew it was the best way to make sure she did!" Ric tried to hide a laugh. "Since when has Jac ever listen to what I've told her? I've had to carry her to surgery before after she ignored my advice, so I knew it was the only way her wine was going to end up where I wanted it."
Sacha chuckled.
"And what happened after that?"
"I topped up her glass," Ric shrugged. "And asked the barman for two more tequilas."
"Which explains this," Sacha nodded to the sleeping surgeon on his knee and they both grinned.
Sacha and Ric continued to talk way past midnight, making their way through another bottle of wine and a few whiskeys before Ric yawned and checked his watch.
"I think it a shame not to make full use of the hotel's incredibly comfy beds and sleep until mid day, don't you?"
Sacha nodded and stretched, feeling Jac stir but not wake.
"I've needed the loo for the last hour," he chuckled. "But I don't think she'll be moving any time soon."
Ric stood up, steadying himself on his feet, before leaning over and lifting Jac gently from Sacha's knee as he slunk off the sofa, then lying her back down again.
"There's no way she's going to walk to the hotel room," Sacha laughed. "Here, take her bag."
Sacha stretched out a crick in his neck and scooped Jac into his arms, one arm under her knees and the other supporting her back as Jac draped her arm across his shoulders and snuggled in to his chest once more.
Both men paused for a moment, the thoughts of the last year running through their minds, neither one daring to speak them aloud.
"She never could handle her drink," Sacha grinned as they made their way to the lift, nodding at the barman on the way. He didn't seem to notice and Sacha was sure he would have seen much worse over the course of the night. "But I suppose this was a long time coming after the past eighteen months."
The hotel was still lively as they passed by the bar.
"Which floor was it?" Sacha asked as they stopped outside the lift.
"The ninth," Ric responded as he fumbled with the key card. "Or is that a six?"
Sacha laughed and hit the lift button with his elbow. It didn't take them long to find the right room, but took an extra ten minutes for Ric to work out how to open Jac's handbag to find the right key.
"Come on, she's getting heavy."
"I'm trying, I'm not exactly used to opening one of these. Why doesn't it just have a zip?"
Eventually opening the door, Sacha lay Jac on the bed, removed her shoes and tucked her under the duvet before putting her phone on charge and leaving a glass of water by her bed.
"Thanks," he placed a hand on Ric's shoulder once he'd pulled her door shut. "That was easier than waking her up."
Ric tilted his head in response, throwing his coat over his shoulder as he fished his own room key from his back pocket.
"Sacha," he paused. "I know this year has been… difficult. For all of us. And I know this probably was't how you expected to start the new year-"
"But I'm glad it was with you two," Sacha finished.
"As much as I hate to admit it, I agree," he smirked. "But this stays between us, remember."
"Got it," Sacha smiled as Ric turned and headed down the corridor towards his own room, raising a hand as he went and turning briefly.
"New year's resolution. Be more Naylor."
Sacha laughed, watching as Ric steadied himself on his feet again and doubting very much that he would admit to remembering this conversation in the morning.
"Be more Naylor," Sacha whispered, his hand on her hotel door. "Good night Jac."
Sacha turned and made his way to his own hotel room, grinning to himself at the thought of Fletch finding a drunken voicemail on his phone from Sacha's very tipsy best friend.