AN: See at bottom of chapter.
"Bernie Wolfe speaking." Answering her mobile, Bernie leant against the sharp edge of her desk. It was strange for her to receive such a late phone call - the clock on the office wall had just turned 1am. As of yet, her night shift had been extremely uneventful; apart from some routine ward rounds and conversations with Agency nurses, Bernie had been dutifully filling in over-due paperwork all night. Just before Serena had left, Bernie had begun surgery on a haemophiliac patient with internal bleeding as the result from a large fall from a ladder, but that was a long time ago and ever since Bernie hadn't done anything nearly as exciting. Had Serena been there, Bernie knew her night would've been much more enjoyable. She was looking forward to the coming morning when she was due to see Serena - until then, she turned her attention back to the phone pressed to her ear.
"Oh hello Commander. It's nice to hear your voice after so long. I take it this isn't a social call?" An edge of caution in her tone, Bernie's mind began to race. Her commander hadn't rung in a very long time; the last time they'd spoken, it was to speak about the recent death of one of Bernie's former colleagues. Eyebrows still raised in suppose and unsure expectation, Bernie continued to carefully listen to her superior officer on the other end of the phone. Characteristic crackles interrupted her voice, telling of the huge distance between Wyvern and Afghanistan.
"Really? I'm not sure-"
"Yes, I would be able to do that. Okay. I'll have to think about it though. Obviously I cannot promise anything."
"Three days? You expect me to decide my future in three days?" Bernie spluttered incredulously; as always, time was of the essence in army life. The speed in which every action was done in the army was one of the various things she didn't miss about life on the front line - at least in the NHS you (mostly) had the chance to catch your breath and assess a situation before proceeding. Whereas in the army, everything was constantly at 100mph, through necessity if nothing else.
"Okay. I'll call you back on Thursday with my decision."
"I'm sure. Goodnight Commander."
A small gasp escaped the blonde's parted lips; her body caved into the nearby office chair just as her shaking legs threatened to collapse below her. Cogs spun in her mind as she began to rake back through her previous phone call. Commander Jones had called with a very clear purpose - to recruit the former army medic back into active service and have her implement the Trauma Unit into a small field hospital located 5 miles from Camp Bastion. Whilst Bernie had returned to the UK after having sustained injuries from an IED explosion, her comrades were still due to serve a minimum of two more years under the baking Afghan sun. Jones had said it would only be for a maximum of a year and that the forces out in Afghanistan were desperate for a pair of skilful, trained and reliable hands to put to work amongst the hundreds of army and civilian casualties, and the trauma unit would be very useful although it would need an experienced leader at the helm - and this was to be Bernie. As always, it was no secret that the army were running short on professional, full-time medics; the casualties of war far outweighed the amount of medical care available and the difference was becoming increasingly pronounced by the day, as more and more wounded patients flooded the hospital doors. If even a fifth of these casualties were treated in somewhere like a designated Trauma Unit, it would considerably lighten the load for the medics and consequently improve the mortality rates.
Still shaking with the shock of this sudden opportunity, Bernie closed her eyes and began to properly think about what she ought to do. Ever since she'd first flown out to Afghanistan on her first tour, she had fallen in love with being an army medic. She loved the euphoria that came with finding success in trying a new surgical method, or saving someone who would've otherwise never had any access to medical care. Or the amazing feeling of seeing a once wounded soldier return to active service; Bernie knew better than anyone the destruction that war inevitably brings, but as a consequence she also knew of the extra-ordinary human resilience and strength to be found in the face of death. To have another year in active service felt like a gift; the army medic felt a certain debt and owing to the soldiers and civilians who needed her help. Although she'd served for more than a decade, Bernie still felt that she could and should do more. Some would say she had a 'hero complex', or others may say she just wanted to help. But, whatever the true reason, Bernie desperately wanted to call back her Commander and agree to fly out tomorrow. The thought of being able to help people in pain and, unlike in the NHS, had a currently very slim chance of ever having a doctor's expertise at their disposal, made Bernie's heart play oaky ache. Furthermore, even imagining the medical staff in the midst of the medical shortage made Bernie grimace; during her long tenure, she had grown very close with many of the soldiers and medics alike and to leave them in the lurch felt like treason. Deep down, the blonde knew that her Commander never would've called her, practically begged her, to return to active duty if she wasn't completely desperate.
On the other hand, Bernie knew that deep down she wanted to stay. Having experienced far too may close touches with death whilst on the front line, Bernie welcomed the relative safety and comfort brought by the NHS. Holby had become increasingly like home to the blonde; she loved coming into work every day and the knowledge that she wasn't at risk of undetonated IEDS or sudden missionary attacks provided a huge sense of relief. Unlike in the army, her life as an NHS surgeon had so far provided not only opportunities to improve, but to better the environment around her. In Holby Bernie felt like she'd made noticeable improvements that she never would've had the time nor resources to do during active service. Having more time to talk to patients and understand their mentality, having better and far more reliable equipment, getting the chance to use state of the art surgical technology and the comforting knowledge of her implemented changes - just the few of many benefits that came with working at Holby. Not to mention the friends she'd made. Raf, Morven, Fletch and (dare she say it) Henrik had all become close friends of hers and she revelled in enjoying a drink and chat with her lovely colleagues in Albie's at the end of the day. And Serena. Of course Serena. The brunette, petite doctor of whom Bernie had formed such a close, strong bond with. Losing Serena would be by far the biggest and most painful consequence of returning to the army; Bernie could barely contain her sadness when Serena wasn't on the same shift as her - she dreaded to think how she'd react if she were never to see Serena again. If she were never to see the adorable way she smiled with her eyes, hear her tinkling, light laugh or smell Serena's sweet, cinnamon scent linger in their office then the medic felt like she may just die. Oh for God's sake woman. Stop being so bloody dramatic. Of course I won't die. Right?
"Serena." Bernie greeted the arriving brunette as she hung up her coat. Unlike Bernie, Serena had just started her shift, looking as radiant and fresh-faced as ever.
"Hello Bernie, how did surgery go?" Serena asked, smiling as she sat down in her chair opposite Bernie and warily eyeing the piles of paperwork the army medic had yet to complete. Nodding her head, Bernie tried to remember back to in the operating theatre; although it was less than seven hours ago, the night had been very long (and it felt like a lifetime since she'd received the phone call).
"Fine thank you." Surprised by Bernie's abrupt answer, Serena looked up with confusion lining her brow. As she looked up, she was met by a disparaging and sad gaze. Judging by the blazing fire in the hazel of Bernie's eyes, the woman was in complete turmoil.
"What's wrong? Was there a problem in theatre? One of the nurses told me he was a haemophiliac-"
"Surgery went well." Bernie clenched her fists - this was going to be harder than she thought. Met by Serena's questioning gaze, she took a sharp breath in and quickly turned to face her properly. It was now or never. "My commander called me last night. She asked me if..." Bernie hesitated; she knew there was no way around telling Serena, but that didn't make it any easier a topic to breach. "If I would return to active service."
"And? What did you say? You told her no, right?" Serena breathed, her voice so quiet the whisper barely passed her lips. Please, please say no. Please don't leave Holby. Please don't leave me.
"I d-don't know. I haven't stopped thinking about it since I first received the call. Of course I want to stay working here-"
"So stay. Bernie I cannot see any reason why you ought to go back out there. You've served ten years of your life - that's far more than most."
"I know. But I feel like I'm needed in Afghanistan. The medics are stretched so thin out there; if I could implement a Trauma Unit, it would make huge improvements throughout the whole area. I could help so many more people out there."
"But you can help people here Bern! People...like the patients need you here! And the trauma unit has just got off the ground; it still needs your expertise if it's to work." Emotional blackmail - is this really how badly I want her to stay? Serena winced upon hearing the desperate, begging tone in her voice; there seemed to be no telling Bernie. Stubbornly refusing to acknowledge the determined decision set in Bernie's hazel eyes, Serena continued. "We still need you at Holby. I still need you." Upon hearing the deep, indignant emotion in Serena's wavering voice, Bernie's heart fell. Seeing the pain and anguish in her beautiful, hazel eyes, Bernie wondered how she could ever be so cruel. Even though it wasn't her fault, Bernie still felt incredibly horrible and selfish for putting the brunette through any sadness. She reached instinctively for Serena's small, shaking hands and cupped them in her own, immediately sharing her warmth.
"I know. And I want to stay at Holby, with you, so much." Serena could sense a 'but' - she braced herself for the blow. "But I can't stay. I have to be in Afghanistan; these people are my family and they need me more than ever. Please understand."
In an instant, Serena quickly snatched her hands from Bernie's grasp. A sudden rage flooded Serena's veins as her heart raced faster than a F1 car, thumping against her rib cage. Blood rushed past her ears, introducing a deafening roar and blocking out any outside noises. She could see Bernie's mouth moving and her hands desperately reaching out for her own, but Serena couldn't make out the words. Bernie was leaving. Serena was drowning, underwater with no way to resurface. Her vision turned blurry; she couldn't hear Bernie's pleads for her to understand. Numbly feeling for her chair, Serena sat down, legs weak under her suddenly heavy weight. With a pained, tortured expression laden on her face, Bernie kept trying to beg Serena to understand. But the brunette wasn't even listening. Her gaze was fixed on a pencil sitting innocently on her desk, her mind refusing to comprehend what had happened.
"Serena. Please. You have to understand. I'll be back. It's only a year. Please." Bernie murmured, her voice becoming weaker with every word. All her strength and decisiveness crumbled around her, threatening to bury her alive. Seeing the pain and complete disbelief in Serena's eyes made her feel sick to her stomach and she felt forced to reconsider her motives. Although her head told her to leave for Afghanistan, her heart begged her to stay at Holby. But Bernie knew what she had to do. As always, she refused to give in to emotions, instead preferring to rely on logic and common sense. And logic was telling her that she was most needed in Afghanistan. "Serena." Bernie deftly reached for the unresponsive brunette's arm, desperate to see some signs of life and understanding. But, as soon as Bernie's fingers touched her pale wrist, Serena's rage flooded out.
"Don't you bloody dare touch me. I cannot believe you're doing this do us. To me. Only a year? All we've been through together, and this is how you treat me? This is what I deserve?" Serena was now standing up, her hands balled up in tight fists. Anger rushed through her system, clouding her thoughts and impeding her vision. She felt so foolish - the brunette had wondered, even hoped, for something more than friendship with Bernie, only to see it all fall down in front of her face. Serena felt a cocktail of shame and fury swim in her mind; a flush of humiliation creeped up her neck. Bernie's almost impassive, expectant facial expression only fuelled Serena's anger; it was as if she was taking all her anger and fury in her stride. As if she had expected, by not cared, about the impacts of breaking Serena's heart. How could I be such an idiot? Unable to think rationally, words came tumbling out Serena's mouth before she could stop them. "If you want to go so much, just leave. Get out. I never want to see your face again."
Bernie's jaw dropped open, her eyes brows raised ever-so-slightly in shock. Before Serena could even blink, Bernie was gone.
Power in every stride, Bernie found herself almost running down the corridor. She needed to get out. Heavy, dense air pressed down on her lungs, suffocating her. Now breaking out into a full run, the army medic was focused on one goal - getting out of the hospital. Oblivious to almost knocking over both Guy Self and Henrik Hanssen, Bernie kept running, her speed increasing with every step.
Finally she was outside. Cold, night air blasted her face, blowing back her blonde curls and raising goose bumps along her pale skin. Sitting on a bench in the Peace Garden, Bernie tried desperately to catch her breath. Emotions swelled up in her chest; as ever, Bernie felt an urgent need to keep her feelings under control and keep a calm facade on her face. After all, you can take the army woman out of the army, but you can't take the army out of an army woman. Bernie felt traitorous as she resigned herself to her overwhelming sadness; all her life, a stoic and unwavering character had been expected of her - accepting the storm of emotions brewing in her chest, which were no less over Serena, felt both strangely liberating and dangerous. Her cheeks were coloured with exertion and the warm blush contrasted to her porcelain, cold skin. Still breathless, the army medic felt frozen tears roll down her cheeks, dipping in the valleys of her mouth before falling on to the hard concrete below like the first raindrops before a thunderstorm. It had been impossibly hard to keep the tears from overflowing during her talk with Serena; just feeling the waves of anguish roll off the brunette was enough to almost set Bernie off. But now, with no-one around to protect herself from, Bernie allowed her usually uptight control over her emotions to slip through her fingers. Pure, unadulterated sadness took the reins and she let the waterfall travel down her cheeks. Sobs wracked her toned frame, sending painful shudders through her bones. Small, liquid parcels of misery continued to drop to the floor, having showed no signs of abating. And, right now, Bernie couldn't care less. Any lingering doubts had been quashed by Serena's reaction - Bernie had to go to Afghanistan as soon as possible, and the blonde reckoned the sooner she left, the better for Serena. She couldn't bear to see the anguish in Serena's eyes one more time or put the brunette she cared for so much through any more pain; her heart lurched just thinking about it.
Serena felt numb. She wanted to go after Bernie to say she was sorry, to say she didn't mean it, but her muscles weren't responding - instead, she sat, frozen and with no control over her body, not daring to think how in God's name it was possible that her heart was still beating. A dullness had quenched the once blazing fire in her eyes. From the first moment they'd met, the two women had just clicked. Serena saw a kindred spirit in Bernie - an ally, a friend. As time grew, so did her feelings for the blonde; soon enough, it felt strange when Bernie wasn't in their office; without the blonde by her side Serena had started to feel incomplete. Time spent without the blonde felt like time wasted; Serena had, without even noticing, had a piece of her heart stolen by the blonde. Am I being selfish? Who cares. She's leaving. Serena sighed, leaning forward on the chair to rest her head in her hands. She closed her eyes. Her mind refused to stop replaying her final words to Bernie - 'Get out. I never want to see your face again' - she doubted that she'd ever forget the pain and shock in Bernie's eyes upon hearing these words. Serena had become so used to having the army medic in her life she couldn't imagine not seeing her for a whole year; the two women had grown, intertwined, like two ivy vines. Perfectly happy and used to one another. It didn't feel real; Serena was still fully expecting to walk in tomorrow and see Bernie at her desk, the blonde's face lighting up with a beautifully huge grin as soon as Serena walks into the room. Bringing Serena a 'surprise' coffee exactly the way she likes it - black with two sugars and an extra pump of vanilla syrup. Working alongside the blonde in surgery, both brilliant surgeons alone but in perfect harmony when together. Nothing is going to change. Bernie isn't leaving. She can't.
AN: Hi everyone! Hope you enjoyed the first chapter. I just wanted to say that, even though UK troops began to be pulled out of Afghanistan and return home in 2014 (and Camp Bastion was closed in the same year), I'm working on the premise that a similar, smaller field hospital to Camp Bastion located in Afghanistan is headed by Commander Jones and a small team of medics still working there until finally being called back (perhaps after the proposed year of Bernie's post). Anyways, all I'm saying is it is fiction and I had to change some of the facts to fit my story so please take the specifics with a pinch of salt. I'd love any feedback! Thanks. :)