Just a cheeky one shot, set after the ED fire and a continuation of Zoe and Dylan's strange friendship...
Starring Role
"That I'm his wife."
Wife? Now that wasn't a word Zoe Hanna could have easily placed beside his name in a sentence.
It didn't matter, even now, what he had told her whilst trapped together.
It didn't matter that he had always been defensive, unwilling to actually be honest when part of her truly cared what he had to say.
No. None of that mattered now.
Because he had a wife who could take care of everything.
A wife.
Sighing gently in her rouse, her body twisted against the uncomfortable surface supporting her, aware of the metal barely kept from her body beneath the material that classed as a mattress; A hospital bed was the one type of bed that she had always hoped she would never be given the opportunity to test drive. Yet, last night as the events of the day had overcome her, so had the tiredness and this was all that had been available.
The heavily risen morning sun was slipping through the gaps of the blind now. It was reaching 9am, the sky beyond the window about to tell the story of another winter's day. But Zoe knew, from the moment her eyes opened, she herself would be unable to see this day as anything by unordinary.
They say near death experiences have those sorts of effects on people.
But, no matter how much she wished to fight off a few more hours behind her closed lids, she knew that she couldn't stay here for much longer. She hadn't technically even been admitted as a patient of St James'. This was just a spare few hours in hospital linen that she had borrowed... Sort of as a type of compensation for almost losing her life. Or so that's what she told herself.
The man sat beside her, curled stiffly in the leather bound armchair, would of course have said differently.
Dylan Keough wasn't the type of man who liked to beat around the bush when it came to medicine. He knew Doctor Hanna had allowed herself to think much more about the possibility of yesterday's events then he had; She had tossed and turned for most of the night, this being the only reason he hadn't slept himself. It was strange how life treated others.
Again, keeping his eyes shut tight, he heard the rustle of the sheets and the creak of the mattress as her body turned. She was almost certainly awake.
"Dylan?"
Certainly awake.
"Dylan?"
It only seemed fair that he opened his eyes on her second attempt to rouse him. Confusion etched in the lines of her face was the first thing to greet him.
"Have you been here all night?" Zoe pushed, ignoring that fact he hadn't even acknowledged the situation as yet. It came as a surprise that he didn't leap from the chair at the sound of her voice or begin to babble an excuse about needing to leave.
Or maybe she was just too familiar with the whirring clogs in the mind of Nick Jordan.
"Jordan asked me to check that you weren't planning on going anywhere anytime soon." He replied, keeping his tone flat and dry.
"Oh." Zoe mustered in reply, a little perturbed by the sinking feeling that suddenly occurred in her chest. Had part of her been expecting something else in answer to her question?
"Sam's been busy too. She asked me to wait for her... for some reason." He added, as though he felt it was needed. A part of him still felt uneasy about acknowledging Sam in his thought process. This was something that barely occurred much anymore.
"Yes, Sam..." Zoe trailed off, recognising that she was still unsure of what she had to say about this latest piece of information. She had already established with herself, it seemed, that anything she might like to ask Dylan fell in with the responsibilities of his wife.
It wasn't exactly the right moment to discuss how he almost lost his life besides.
"How's the ED? The patient... John?" She questioned instead, knowing this seemed the safer road to take.
"John's stable. The ED's gutted, leaving us without a job for some time I assume. How are you?"
The sharp return of his words stunned Zoe for a moment, unaware that he may spring something quite so personal on her so suddenly.
"I'll survive." She replied, mustering a gentle smile as her finger ran subconsciously across the abrasion on her forehead. It was still a mystery how she had gotten it.
"It doesn't seem quite right, does it. That those who were supposed to be saving the lives, were the ones who were fighting for their own." He mused, easing himself from the cramped position he had taken in the arm chair. The creak of his bones cut across the momentary silence.
"We were lucky."She told him, aware that both would continually take solace in that knowledge whether they chose to speak about their ordeal or not.
It terrified her how close they had gotten to the tip of the needle; almost upon the brink of the moment they would choose to end their own lives, rather than wait for that moment to be chosen for them.
She knew now she wasn't quite ready for this to end.
"Listen, Dylan, about what you said in resus... about never being close enough to marriage-"
"That was before Sam chose to tell the world, Doctor Hanna."
"But why Dylan? And please stop calling me Doctor Hanna, it drives me insane."
"You asked about being close to marriage, not about me being married." He shot back, some annoyance spiking in his tone.
This was clearly not a subject he wanted to discuss any further.
"Okay... I guess that's fair."
It fell silent between them once more, the echo of his strong defiance hanging limply between them. Zoe was now no clearer as to why he had deceived her. Dylan, it seemed, was simply no clearer as to why he had deceived her himself.
He knew, hand on whatever heart he may have left, that Zoe would have been the only person he may have trusted with the news of him and Sam.
Zoe was the only person who cared enough to care about him, he knew that now.
"I suppose you better go find Jordan hadn't you? Tell him I won't be leaving him a worker down anytime in the near future." She tried, barely melting the thick frost between them. Offering another of her small, 'I'm trying' smiles as he nodded, taking to his feet t quick pace.
Turning for the doors, it seemed he was almost about to leave her without another word until something within him told him to pause, to turn back.
"Zoe, I-"
"I know, Dylan, trust me, I know." She cut across him, letting her lips sink into something more serious as she swallowed back the lump forming his throat.
For now she would speak for him, reason for him, aware that he was unable to bear just how he felt. Life seemed to have left him somewhat emotionally stunted, sometimes just how Zoe felt life had left her too. Dylan was simply the male form of herself ten years previous.
But she knew, at some point, he would find his feet and, to some extent, his voice.
She knew all too well it wasn't easy but he'd get there... eventually.
She just had a feeling he would.
