This is just a follow up to A Breech of Trust (written in haste). Hope you all like it.
Chrissie Levy stood outside Holby City, looking up at the magnificent building she had once thought of as home. It seemed much darker now. Something had been lost. The sight of it filled her with dread.
"Everything okay?" Sacha asked as he came to stand next to his wife.
"Yeah," she smiled.
"Shall we?" Sacha motioned for the door.
"I guess we don't have a choice," she mumbled, allowing him to open the door.
"It'll be fine," he smiled, pausing as he noticed Serena Campbell's car pull up. It had been roughly a week since two men had broken into the hospital, hell bent of murdering a witness to one of their crimes. The incident had taken a toll on the staff; all of them. They were all connected in some way or another. Two lives had been lost that day and that could not be forgotten.
Sacha gave a slight wave to Serena as she climbed out of the driver's seat. She smiled back and proceeded to search for something in the backseat of her car. "Do you think she's okay?" Sacha asked Chrissie.
"The woman's tough as nails – she'll be fine," Chrissie answered, taking one last glance back at Serena and then heading towards the canteen.
Serena had wanted to come in much earlier, but she couldn't gather up enough courage. It had only been a week, but she still looked like she'd been embroiled in some drunken bar brawl. The swelling to her face had gone down, but the bruise was only just turning a dark yellow colour. No amount of makeup in the world could hide it. Hanssen had requested she take the week off; saying something about not wanting to scare the patients away. Under normal circumstances, she would refuse, but she felt she truly needed time away.
"Morning," Michael Spence called from behind her.
The sound gave her such a fright that she knocked her head against the inside of the car. "Ow," she mumbled.
"Sorry," he grimaced as she climbed out of the back seat. "Wow, the bruise looks . . ."
"Terrible," she snapped.
"I wasn't going to say that; what I was going to say is that it looks very . . . uh . . . non distinctive."
Serena felt like throwing her hand bag at him. "Michael, don't you have a nurse to be chasing after right about now? You're wasting precious time."
"Very funny," Michael smirked as he started heading towards the reception before pausing to look at her. He watched the look on her face as her eyes ran over the building in front of her. "Are you coming in?"
"Of course I'm coming in," she hissed as she locked her car and marched in front of him into the reception area. In truth, she was almost glad Michael Spence had been there; it had forced her to make a move. If not for him, she wondered if she would have had enough courage to make it through the front door.
"We've been pretty busy," Michael started saying, watching Serena carefully. He could've sworn he saw the faintest hint of fear in her eyes. He wasn't a huge fan of hers, but he hated the thought of anyone being that scared.
"Good," she said flatly, glancing at the canteen.
"Coffee?" Michael asked.
"No, I need to get started," she answered, heading passed him to the lift.
"Now I know there's something wrong," Michael walked after her. "You turning a cup of coffee down? No chance."
"It's unhealthy," she answered.
"Uh huh, yeah, sure."
"It raises your heart rate and blood pressure and quite frankly, I get enough of that being forced to work with you."
"I can't explain to you how much I've missed your sparkling charm."
Serena tried to suppress a smile.
"Have you been getting enough sleep lately?" Michael suddenly asked.
"Michael, I realize I don't look like my usual self, but I really don't feel it's necessary for you to remind me of that."
"Well, I wasn't."
"How's your relationship with Ramona?"
"Ah, see now, that's not a topic I'm going to be discussing," Michael smiled.
"Well, then, it seems we have something in common this morning."
"Oh I see, so every question I have about your well being is going to be countered with a questions about my personal life? Very mature," Michael followed Serena into the lift.
Henrik Hanssen watched nurse Lane speaking quietly to Malik who had been very supportive the last week. He had tried to ensure that everyone felt safe and had tried his best to boost morale, but it was difficult. Henrik could see the fear in people's eyes with every loud sound. He felt it too. Every time he closed his eyes at night, he could picture people running and hiding away from a gunman. He would sometimes dream of the gun being held to his own head.
"Nurse Lane," Henrik called. "May I have a word?"
"Of course, Mr Hanssen," she smiled brightly, but the usual sparkle in her eyes was missing.
Henrik did not want to have this conversation in front of the prying eyes of Mr Malik or Mr Griffin, but he didn't want to make the young nurse feel uncomfortable either. That's the last thing she needed. Henrik waited until they were both out of earshot from the others before speaking. "I realize this has been a particularly difficult week for you."
"For all us, really," she answered, the smile fading from her face. "I still can't believe it happened. And poor Ollie – I feel even worse for him – and Ms Campbell. I mean, I didn't even get hurt, but it was one of the worst moments in my life and I can only imagine how Ollie and Ms Campbell feel. It's just so unexpected, you know?"
Henrik tried to digest everything she had said. "Yes it is."
"I sent Ollie a fruit basket, but not Ms Campbell because I wasn't sure where she lives. I suppose I could've asked Mr Griffin to find out, but then I thought he might not want to give out personal information and what if she doesn't want anyone knowing where she lives? I would feel terrible if I made her feel uncomfortable around me; like she can't trust me, because she can and I'm sure she knows that," Chantelle continued to waffle.
"I'm sure Ms Campbell wouldn't mind," Henrik answered. "I've been meaning to speak to you."
"About what?" She asked with wide eyes.
"I have arranged for a trauma counselor to attend the hospital to talk to the staff. I would very much appreciate it if you would lead your colleagues in speaking to him first. I realize there will be some trepidation when it comes to divulging emotions with a counselor . . ."
"Oh, I would love to," Chantelle answered, taking Henrik by surprise. "I've been thinking of counseling ever since it all happened. My mum says the best way to get over things is by talking about them. I think it's a brilliant idea."
"Well," Henrik nodded. "I'll send out an internal memo to the different wards involved. In the mean time, I would like you to meet Doctor Mallings in my office at two today if there's nothing else too pressing to take care of."
"I'll let Mr Griffin know," she spun around and headed towards the reception desk where Ric and Malik were watching them both suspiciously.
"You look terrible," Jac Naylor said as she leaned against the doorway.
"Well, I that's exactly how I feel," Ollie Valentine mumbled as he tried in vain to sit up in bed.
"Well, I guess this will teach you not to smoke again any time soon."
"Your sympathy is overwhelming."
"I don't do sympathy," Jac smiled.
"Ollie," Tara pushed passed Jac. "You shouldn't be moving!" She forced him back down. "Your ribs need to heal."
"Not to mention your face," Jac added.
"How are you feeling?" Jonny Maconie asked, brushing his arm against Jac's as he stepped into the room.
Ollie could've sworn he noticed Jac tense up. "I want to say better, but I'm finding it hard."
"You look better," Jonny smiled.
"Liar," Jac smirked.
"I'm just glad everyone's okay," Jonny said, catching Jac's eye.
"Well, apart from Ms Campbell's patient and the old man in AAU," Jac said.
"I hear there's going to be trouble over that," Tara said.
"What kind of trouble?"
"Legal action against the hospital."
"I'm sure I'll be hearing about it in the staff meeting I'm already late for," Jac answered, looking down at her wrist watch. "I'll check in on you later, Oliver," she said as she spun around and started heading down the corridor.
"Jac," Jonny called, jogging after her.
"I'm going to be late," she answered, purposefully increasing her speed.
"Would you just stop," he grabbed her arm.
"What do you want?"
"I just," he tried to regain his breath. "I just wanted to make sure you're okay. You haven't answered my calls."
"There's a reason for that," Jac said. "We're not sleeping together anymore."
"Look, Jac," he started, lowering his voice as Elliot Hope walked passed them.
"Glad to see I'm not the only one running late," Elliot smiled before continuing down the corridor.
"I was worried about you," Jonny suddenly said. "When I heard those gunshots . . . I thought . . . all I wanted to know was that you were okay."
Jac stared down the corridor. "I'm late."
"I just wanted you to know that. I wanted you to know that someone was worried for you," Jonny whispered into her ear before letting go of her arm and disappearing down the corridor.
Jac felt a lump in her throat arise and she had to use all her strength to fight it away.
Most of the staff were seated around that oval table, waiting for the remaining members to get there.
Henrik was tapping his pen against the thick folder in front of him. The room seemed awkwardly silent. Ric was reading a patient report that Malik had handed him, Elliot was sipping his hot chocolate and Jac was staring off into space.
The door flew open as Michael and Serena stepped into the room.
"All I'm saying is that Mr Anderson might have an underlying condition," Michael was heard saying.
"Well, I don't agree with you. He's obviously an alcoholic," Serena replied, closing the door firmly behind them.
"Ms Campbell," Henrik watched as the woman took a seat as far away from him as possible. "How are you feeling?"
"Never been better," she answered, glancing at Michael who was rolling his eyes.
"Good to have you back," he said.
"Thank you," she smiled cautiously. "I hear we might be in some hot water with my patient's family?"
Henrik nodded. The woman did not beat around the bush. "That's correct. Mr Young's family are attempting to sue the hospital for negligence."
"Negligence?" Serena spat.
Henrik watched her eyes fill with rage. "They are accusing us of not taking appropriate action against the men who were after their son. They claim that had our security team taken action at the correct time, their son would still be alive."
"Yes, obviously it's our fault that their son was involved with a gang of murderers," she said sarcastically.
"He witnessed the murder, it's not to say that he was part of it," Malik said.
"Well, why don't you explain that to the family of Mr Levy's patient who was murdered in AAU by the men who were after Mr Young. I'm sure they'd believe it."
"All I'm saying is that the police haven't actually confirmed Mr Young's involvement."
"Yet," Serena answered.
The room fell silent again. Malik was obviously not going to take Serena on and neither was anyone else.
There was a loud thud at the window as a pigeon hit into the glass. Everyone jumped. Elliot spilled his hot chocolate down his shirt.
"Damn bird," Malik mumbled, trying to act natural.
Michael chuckled quietly, watching everyone's faces.
"Our legal teams will be dealing with this, so there's no reason for any of you to worry," Henrik said, ignoring the incident. "I would also like everyone involved in the incident to attend voluntary counseling sessions with a trauma counselor."
And how much is that costing the hospital? Serena felt like asking. She rolled her eyes instead. She could feel her blood start to boil.
"Is there a problem, Ms Campbell?" Henrik noticed immediately.
"No," she answered flatly.
"Does that include me?" Michael asked, glancing at Serena. "Because I feel fine."
"It's merely a suggestion," Henrik tore his gaze away from Serena. "It's not an order."
Serena felt her pager vibrate and quickly grabbed it. "I need to get back to the AAU," she said, pushing her seat away from the desk.
"I would appreciate it if you attend the sessions, Ms Campbell," Henrik dared to say.
"Uh huh," Serena didn't even turn to face him. She left the room as quickly as her legs could carry her. There was no way she was going to speak to someone about how she felt. The thought made her want to laugh. And she probably would if she wasn't so angry.
By the time she got to AAU, she couldn't even remember if she'd taken the stairs of the lift. She been too deep in thought.
"Your patient's back," Chrissie pointed to an elderly man who looked like a tramp. "He's been drinking . . . again."
Serena took a deep breath and headed over to him. "Mr Fleck?"
He answered by vomiting on the floor.
"How charming," she sighed. "Maybe next time you could do us all a favour and drink yourself into a coma."
Chrissie stared at her in horror.
"Because God knows the rest of us don't need to be dealing with you and your sickening habits!" She yelled.
"What the hell is going on?" Michael called from the entrance of AAU.
"Mr Fleck – the pathetic drunk, is the problem!" She glanced down at the old man. He had passed out in the wheelchair. Grabbing a nearby patient's glass of water, she threw it over him. "Wake up!"
"Right, that's enough," Michael grabbed Serena's arm and practically dragged her to the office they shared. "Chrissie, get Mr Fleck something dry to wear," he called as he closed the door.
Serena had moved to her desk and was leaning against it.
"What the hell was that all about?" Michael yelled. "Have you absolutely lost it?"
"He's an idiot and a waste of NHS funds."
"I agree with you, but I would never consider telling him that and then throwing a cup of water over him!"
Serena closed her eyes for a moment, trying to regain composure.
"Hanssen's right you know, you should go talk to someone."
"I don't need to talk to anyone," she massaged the bridge of her nose.
"You keep telling yourself that," Michael said. "What if I hadn't come down here? What if it had been Hanssen? You're always saying you don't bring your personal life into this hospital, well what do you call this?"
"I never expected this hospital to run into my personal life," Serena answered.
Michael just stared back at her, waiting for her to explain.
"I've had a few hair raising moments, but nothing like this," she answered, lowering herself into her chair. "I feel so . . . angry. All the time."
Michael quietly leaned against his desk. "Well what do you expect? Someone walked in and destroyed your confidence."
"I don't know what this is," she sighed. "I can't seem to calm down."
"You know, these are classic signs of post traumatic stress."
"There's nothing wrong with you," she looked up at him.
"Are you kidding me? The day this all happened, I couldn't leave my car. I literally slept in it the whole night. And I'm not even the one who got shot at."
"I made Eleanor go sleep at a friend's house. I didn't feel like I could deal with her questions."
"I got scared of my own reflection – I wouldn't have thought that would ever have been possible."
Serena broke into a smile. "That is a surprise."
"This kind of thing takes its toll on everyone," he said more seriously. "Now, you reconsider seeing that shrink and I'll go deal with Mr Fleck."
"Thank you, Michael," Serena said. "Sincerely."
"You are sincerely welcome."
Mo Effanga stood in the locker, trying to figure out if she should wear her green top or the blue top. It was a tough decision.
"Ah, Tara," she turned to the young doctor. "Which one would you pick?"
"I don't know . . . blue?"
Mo's face dropped. "I didn't want to wear the blue."
"Well then wear the green."
"But your first choice would be blue which means that you thought I'd look better in it than the green."
Tara stared at her in confusion. "I don't know."
"I'll wear the blue," Mo nodded. "How's Ollie doing?"
"He's okay. Getting better."
"He took one hell of a beating," Mo said as she tried the blue top on.
"I know. When I saw him . . ." Tara's voice broke.
"Oh honey," Mo turned to her just as she burst into tears. She put an arm around her comfortingly. "He's fine. Oliver's the strongest skinny white boy I know."
This made Tara chuckle.
"Oh thank you," Jonny said from the doorway.
"We're having a girl moment," Mo hissed, waving him out.
"No, it's okay. I'm okay," she smiled, wiping the tears away. "It's just been a really stressful week."
"Why don't you come to the pub with us?" Jonny asked. "We're all going; me, Malik, Chantelle, Mo, Marie-Claire."
"Oh, I don't know."
"I'm sure Ollie will be sleeping most of the night anyway and you need some time away too, you know," Mo quickly added.
"I guess . . ."
"The invitation's open to everyone," Mo said as she glanced back at someone standing behind Jonny.
"Where are we going?" Jac asked, ignoring Jonny's surprised look as he turned to look at her.
"To the nearest pub," Mo responded.
"Count me in," she glanced at Jonny and headed towards her locker.
"Great," Jonny smiled.
Serena waited outside the counselor's office. She was trying to stop fidgeting, but was quite nervous. This wasn't what she wanted. She hated counselors. She was about to leave, spinning around and moving forwards when she walked right into Henrik Hanssen. She knocked her face into his lower chest.
"Ow! God!" She held the side of her face. The bruise was disappearing but it was still sensitive.
"I do apologize," Henrik said.
"Has no one ever told you not to sneak up on people when they've just been shot at?" She snapped.
"I can honestly say I've never actually had that conversation, no."
Serena felt her eyes welling up as a reaction to the shooting pain in the side of her face.
The counselor stepped out into the corridor. "Oh dear," he nodded.
"I'm not crying!" She hissed.
"It's okay," the man smiled. "We're all friends."
Serena was about to say something when Henrik quickly interjected. "I was hoping to have a quick word with Ms Campbell before your meeting."
"Absolutely," the man said. "I'll be right here when you're ready," he closed the door.
"What a weasel," she sighed.
"I understand you've had a difficult day," Henrik said.
"Did Michael say something?" Serena felt the anger rise in her again.
"Should he have?"
"Uh, no," she quickly countered. "I just thought he might have said something about an issue. . ." she mumbled to herself.
"I didn't get the chance to speak to you before," Henrik started.
Serena could feel her stomach drop.
"I wanted to say that you handled yourself very well and that I apologize for what happened."
Serena stared back at him. "Well, it's not like it was your fault."
"I am in charge of Holby and should therefore be held accountable."
"I don't hold you responsible."
"Thank you," Henrik answered.
"Pub tonight," Jonny called to them as he and his cavalry walked down the corridor.
"I'll be busy with admin," Henrik answered.
"And I have a meeting with . . . a weasel," Serena answered, glancing at the office door.
"Nurse Lane is singing Doctor Malling's praises. I hope it helps you," Henrik said, turning to leave.
"Mr Hanssen," she called, just as she opened the office door. "I didn't complain about you to Cunningham."
Henrik froze in his steps.
"I just wanted you to know that," she said as she closed the door.