Hey guys! So this is going to be my interpretation of parts of the winter trailer (which is on their website if you've not seen it yet). I imagine this is completely different to what will actually happen, but it gave me inspiration so I thought I'd write it anyway xD

I hope you enjoy- if you want me to carry this on do review and let me know! -Sophie x

"We have received a call about your daughter Grace's welfare."

The words rang in her ears like the incessant chiming of a clock gone midnight. Over and over again, she was reminded of how bad things were becoming, and how fast she was losing grip of what stability she once had in her life.

After that meeting, the clinical lead was called to a puzzling case in resus by Cal. But she was no help- her mind simply wasn't, for once, on her work. In fact, it was anywhere but. She sighed and placed her stethoscope around her neck.

"Run the tests again then come back to me once the results arrive." She said quietly, turning and walking straight out the doors. She took some deep breaths and made her way to her office, where she went in and promptly shut the door, before collapsing into her chair and placing her head in her hands.

"What's happing to me?" she whispered, "I can't be a proper mother, I can't be a proper clinical lead, I can't even seem to do my job properly." She felt so useless, so powerless, for the first time in her life.

She sat in that same position, mulling things over and over until her thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. She quickly sat up and tried to make herself look busy.

"Come in." She called, quickly turning her notebook to a blank page and starting to write in it. In walked Cal, holding a piece of paper.

"The results are back for Mrs Crossley." He smiled slightly, holding up the paper. Connie stopped pretending to write and made her way to him, taking the results before looking over them.

"All normal…" She mused, biting one of her nails in thought. Cal cleared his throat.

"I was thinking a possible pneumothorax."

Connie looked up. "But her CT was fine, it would have picked it up."

"Not if it was a small one. It would explain the constant collapsing, tachycardia etc." he looked at her with intent eyes, watching as she realised what he was saying was the only reasonable explanation.

"That's… One, possibility." She replied. Cal sighed and took the sheet from her hands.

"Mrs Beauchamp, it's the only reasonable explanation-"

"There's always the chance of an NTD."

"The woman is 76, she hasn't been out of the house in weeks, never mind the country! I'm treating her as a pneumothorax, okay?" He looked into her eyes, and noticed they were slightly redder than usual. She sighed and went to sit down again, carrying on writing in her jotter.

"Fine." She muttered.

Cal took a deep breath and closed the door. "Is… Is everything ok?" he asked hesitantly. She looked up sharply.

"Of course. Why?"

"It's just," he paused for a minute, hoping his next words wouldn't spark a shouting match, "usually you would have been over and done with that patient within ten minutes."

She narrowed her eyes. "What are you trying to say, Dr Knight? That I'm not a good doctor?"

"Oh god no, no of course not, no. It's just that you seem a little pre-occupied, like something's bothering you. If there is-" he added, cheeks reddening slightly, "you can always talk to me about it. I'm a little worried about you."

"I can assure you that I am totally fine," she replied, though her voice faltered slightly, "thankyou."

He looked down at her, his face softening. "Connie-"

"-Don't call me that-" she interrupted harshly, but he went on anyway.

"-I mean it. You've not been yourself recently at all, not since the crash." His voice became gentle.

"Oh what do you care." She snapped, glaring at him. Cal was slightly taken aback, but he stood his ground.

"If I didn't care, I wouldn't be here would I." He said pointedly. His boss went silent, thinking, though her face still showed her anger and frustration. He seems genuine, and didn't scarper even though I snapped at him, she thought, twirling the ring she always wore on her left hand.

"Why don't you come round to mine for a chat after work?" he asked gently. This was a risky move, even for him. She looked at him slowly, one eyebrow raised, though she was still thinking.

"Seriously. You can't bottle it up forever Connie."

That much was true- she needed someone to talk to, and the man that stood before her seemed the only person that would tolerate her at the minute.

"Alright." She spoke quietly, her voice so low that he thought he heard wrong.

"I'll meet you here when our shift ends." He smiled. "See you later."

"Bye. Oh and Cal-" he turned from where one hand rested on her door handle.

"Yes?"

"Don't tell anyone about this please." Her face was expressionless, apart from the red tint to the tips of her ears. He smiled and winked at her.

"My lips are sealed boss."

"And don't call me boss!" she shouted after him as he shut her door and left her in a deafening silence, alongside a dreading for that evening that just wouldn't go away.

Talking about her feelings was not something Connie found easy, or made a habit of. She preferred to keep it to herself- they were her problems, she had to sort them out alone.

But the darkness she felt every waking minute was just getting too much, even for her, to handle. She sighed and placed her head in her hands once more, feeling every second tick by as she sat and wasted every one.