Hello! Yeah, new story time. This idea has been bugging me for a while now and it wouldn't leave me alone so I thought the best thing to do was to get it down on paper and it's sort of developed from there. I haven't watched the riot episodes yet so I don't know what happened other than the bits and pieces I read in the build-up to it. Hence why some details may not fit with what actually happened. That's ok though because this is fiction and for this to work it's probably easier for me to put my own spin on it.
I've never written from Nick's point of view by the way and I was trying to portray another side to their relationship – a side that has been hinted at but we've never seen. It may or may not have worked. Basically with this fic, the only thing you need to know is that my brain works in mysterious ways, let's put it like that.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Any recognisable details belong to Casualty/the BBC. No copyright infringement intended. The song is Let It Be and that belongs to The Beatles. It is a great song though, you could listen to it whilst reading this chapter, if you wanted to.
For Gemma – thanks for listening to my random rambles about this fic haha. Hope you like it!

Twenty-Four Seven
Chapter 1: Nick

When I find myself in times of trouble,
Mother Mary comes to me, speaking words of wisdom,
Let it be.
And in my hour of darkness, she is standing right in front of me,
Speaking words of wisdom,
Let it be.

Three years. Three whole years. It sounded even longer to him the more he mulled the amount of time over that had passed since the riots. The amount of time that had slipped away since she'd been injured in the riots. Since she'd gone. She had been strong enough to survive the initial injury that she'd sustained in the riots but once they'd examined her, they had found other injuries. She had suffered severe head injuries and those coupled with various other injuries had meant that although she had fought for a while – she'd even shown signs of getting better at one point which was why the decision had been taken to transfer her to a hospital that dealt primarily with neurological injuries – she had lost the battle not long after she'd been transferred.

Three years. There was no way to make it sound any shorter and it was even longer if you multiplied three hundred and sixty five days by three to work out the amount of days had passed. That simple sum equalled one thousand and ninety-five days. Three years sounded long but one thousand and ninety-five days sounded like an eternity. The only thing he was sure of was that it was a long, long time. In theory, three years didn't sound that long but in practice, it was a long time. It was a long time to miss someone.

He missed her, that was the truth. He missed everything about her. Her good points, her bad points. Her habits, even the ones that had grated on him when they'd been together. He missed her smile, her laughter, the ways her grey eyes used to sparkle with amusement or mischief. Her pushiness, her dedication to her job and he missed the way she used to walk around the E.D like she owned the place. He even missed the way, when they were alone, that she would look at him whenever she wanted something. He remembered, with a fond smile, that she always had got her own way.

They said it got easier with time. That the pain, the unexplained guilt would slowly ebb away until it was a little more bearable. Until it was like a dull ache rather than a sharp pain but it hadn't. It hadn't diminished at all. It was still there, every day of his life, slowly eating away at him. Slowly consuming him. He'd even gone over everything in his head since he'd lost her, somehow hoping it would make a difference. It didn't. Sitting around, wondering whether things would have been different if they hadn't argued hadn't helped at all. In fact, it had just made things worse. If the riots had never happened, he wondered, would things be different? He certainly liked to think that they would be.

Her colleagues had awkwardly offered their support after her death with a couple of them who had been closer to her visiting him occasionally but the visits had meant long silences where neither of them had spoken. They hadn't known each other well, she'd been their boss and they hadn't been sure what they were supposed to say around him or to him. They hadn't even bonded over their memories of her but he'd suspected that had been partly down to him. Then the visits had stopped suddenly and he'd been relieved. He hadn't wanted to talk to anyone that reminded him of her. It had been too painful. It still was.

Before the riots, before all of this had happened, back when everything had been fine, when they'd been happy, he hadn't realised how much he would miss her if she wasn't there. She'd slowly become a bigger part of his life and he had been so used to seeing her all of the time that he hadn't even considered what it would be like if she wasn't. Then the unthinkable had happened and she wasn't around any more. He missed her, he really missed her but he couldn't quite bring himself to admit it out loud. They hadn't known each other for too long, only about six months or so but in those six months, he'd slowly but surely begun to get to know the person she really was. The person behind the police officer, behind that professional mask. He had liked that person. In fact he would even go as far as to say he had loved her. Perhaps he still did.

She was...had been different but it had been a good difference. He wasn't even sure if that would make sense to anyone aside from him. She had been quirky, annoying at times – more so to those who hadn't really known her. Not like he had. He really hadn't realised how much he would miss the little things that made up her personality, the tiny things that had made her who she was. He supposed that when someone died, you did miss everything about them. Even the little things, the things you hadn't even realised you'd picked up on at the time.

The keys. He still had the keys she'd given him even though it was three years since she'd died. The key-ring with his initials on it was still attached to her keys and they were a part of his keys. They had been since she'd given them to him but more so now. It hurt, a sort of dull ache in his heart every time he caught a glimpse of them but in a way, it sort of helped. It was like the message. He'd found a message on his answer machine after she died and he'd kept it, occasionally replaying it when the house seemed too quiet and he missed her too much. It sounded morbid but it did help. After her death, he had been worried that he was going to forget her, that the memories would fade with time. He had been worried that he was going to forget how she looked, forget the sound of her voice but he'd soon come to realise that there were so many things around him that reminded him of her. She was still there, still alive in his memories and that was the way it should be.

Nick sighed as he pulled himself out of his thoughts, inwardly cursing himself for being so soppy. If she was here now, she would probably tease him about it. But she wasn't. There was no-one to tease him, no-one to share those moments with. Even he and Zoe had drifted further apart since Yvonne's death which he hadn't anticipated. He glanced around his office, his gaze soon drifting back to his desk where his keys sat, glinting in the light. The one Yvonne had given him stood out. It glinted in the light, his initials shining. He could still remember, word for word, that moment when she'd trusted him enough to give him a spare key to her place. It should have been a significant step in their relationship and it had been, at the time. It just seemed awfully cruel to him that less than a month later from that defining moment, she hadn't been there any more. He leant back in his chair, letting that one memory consume him.

"Oh, hey!" Yvonne stopped him as he got out of the car, suddenly remembering that she had something to give him.

"Hmm?" He questioned as he turned and leant back in the car. She was fiddling around with her bag, getting something out.

"If I'm not back, let yourself in." She instructed as she handed him a set of silver keys with a black leather keyring attached. "And if you're lucky, I'll cook."

He smiled, his eyes meeting hers as he leant further towards her, their lips meeting in a gentle, tender kiss. It was a brief moment and when they pulled apart slightly, he leant back in to steal another kiss.

She laughed, pulling away from him slightly so she could make shooing movements with her hands. "Go on, go."

"I'm going." He insisted, his tone light as he backed out of the car, taking a look at her. She was smiling, grey eyes sparkling with amusement.

The sound of heels approaching his office door pulled him firmly out of his memories and he sat up properly in his chair, his ears tuned into that sound. His heart leapt in hope and he found himself expecting his office door to open and for her to walk in. Minutes later, his office door did indeed open and he almost sighed as he came face to face with Zoe. "Incoming RTA." She informed him simply, her unspoken words making it clear that they could do with his presence in the E.D. Nick nodded, indicating that he'd follow her down. He watched as she backed out of his office and closed the door, heading back to the department. For a moment, his office was filled with the sound of her heels clicking on the hard floor until she was gone and silence resumed once more.

He sighed deeply, hating the way that every time he heard the sound of heels, he'd still forget for a minute that it wouldn't be Yvonne walking over to him or walking into his office. It would be someone else because she wasn't here any longer. It had been three years and yet there were still moments where he'd forget that that the sound of heels, someone calling his name wouldn't be her. Part of him wished these moments would go because it was exhausting. Hearing something simple like the sound of heels, hoping and then being bitterly disappointed within the space of a few moments. Feeling such a range of emotions in such a short space of time was exhausting both physically and mentally but he knew that these moments probably wouldn't be going away any time soon; they'd already lasted for three years.

As he collected together his stethoscope and placed his phone in his desk, his mind unexpectedly went back to the visit they'd had from the police earlier. He'd not hung around to speak to them any longer than necessary because they had been busy and because her replacement had been there. The new superintendent seemed to be more detached and although none of them really knew her because she didn't visit as frequently as Yvonne had – he was now starting to realise that there had been more than one reason for Yvonne continuing to return to the E.D even though she'd had a perfectly capable team – she still seemed to be more detached and he found it harder to like her or even get on with her. He knew that Yvonne had been cold and detached at times and there had been times when her behaviour had baffled him but it had never been on this scale. Thinking about it, he never had found out why Yvonne had sometimes behaved the way she did. There was no use in thinking about it now, he never was going to find out – that much was fairly obvious. Part of him did wonder whether the reasons he kept finding to dislike the new superintendent was because she was Yvonne's replacement. He didn't like himself for doing it and he wasn't trying to make excuses for the off-hand way he treated her but it did seem to happen subconsciously.

Nick rubbed his hand over his face tiredly as he realised his thoughts had gone off on a tangent, again. It definitely seemed to be happening more and more these days especially when he thought about her. He exhaled deeply, forcing himself to think back to what had happened when the police had visited earlier and he frowned as he remembered something he hadn't even realised he'd clocked at the time. They'd been acting strange, both of them. Especially towards him. Stranger than usual. They'd been on edge, nervous almost which was something he hadn't expected for them. It was like they were making a concerted effort to act normal which in turn was making them act abnormally. Why on earth they were acting like this now, he had no idea and he reckoned that he probably wouldn't find out the reasons behind it unless it was something of tantamount importance. Then he'd probably find out. Unless he made an effort to find out himself. If it was important and involved any of his staff – which, he suspected it might seeing as they'd only been acting oddly around him and his staff for the last day or so – then he wanted to know. He supposed that if it really was that important, he'd find out one way or another.

He shook himself out of his thoughts, realising once again that he'd been thinking for far too long and he really should have been down in the E.D by now, giving his staff a hand. He slung his stethoscope around his neck and headed for the door, putting Yvonne tenderly to the back of his mind for now so that he could concentrate fully on the job in hand with no distractions. He couldn't afford distractions, not in his line of work. In medicine, especially emergency medicine, distractions could mean mistakes and mistakes could mean that someone lost their life. That was not something he wanted to happen, not if he could help it.

And when the broken hearted people living in the world agree,
There will be an answer, let it be.
But though they may be parted, there is still a chance that they will see,
There will be answer, let it be.
Let it be, let it be, let it be, let it be.
Whisper words of wisdom, let it be.
Let it be, let it be, let it be, let it be.
And when the night is cloudy, Mother Mary shines on me,
Shine until tomorrow, let it be.
I wake up to the sound of music, Mother Mary comes to me,
Speaking words of wisdom, let it be.
Let it be, let it be, let it be, yeah, let it be.

There you go. The next chapter is half written so should be up shortly but don't quote me on that. Hope you liked it but even if you didn't, feel free to let me know.