Another cross posted from AO3
Their first New Year together, after Bernie returned from Ukraine and they both realised what prize idiots they had been, they spend on the ward. They agreed to both work the new year so the youngsters could go out and have their fun and because they managed to wrangle the whole of Christmas off.
It goes as you would expect on AAU, all quiet until around eleven pm when the red phone rings and they have to crack a chest right there in the trauma bay. They see in the new year wrist deep in a patient, unable to hear the fireworks outside over the blaring of monitors as they try desperately to save their first life of 2017.
It's not until hours later that they manage to steal a brief New Years kiss between scrubbing out of theatre and doing rounds. When they get home, exhausted and two hours later than the end of their shift, they don't even bother to try and celebrate, they stick their heads around the kitchen door, wish Jason a happy New Year and then fall into bed, hoping against hope that neither on of them gets called in for at least eight hours.
Their second new year together they spend apart, Bernie has taken one for the team and agreed to be the on call for the night, gets called into the hospital hours before the first fireworks start to help with an incoming RTC.
They'd planned on going to the party of some of Serena's friends just down the street and Bernie insists that Serena still go as she slips out of her just put on dress and into her usual skinny jeans and a shirt. Serena goes even though she'd rather follow Bernie to the hospital, catches up with old friends who she sees far to rarely and makes promises to be better at staying in touch come the new year.
It's a wonderful party, it really is, but she can't help missing Bernie's presence at her side, her ability to read the other woman well enough to know when to steer her away from the latest conversation or her umpteenth glass of wine.
At midnight, rather than cramming around the TV or stepping into the garden to watch the fireworks with the other party goers she takes her phone and slips out of the front door. The culdisack her friends live in is quiet, most of the neighbours at the party, and she relishes the moment of peace before she dials Bernie's number, hoping that she can catch her between patients, between surgeries. Bernie answers as the countdown begins inside and she sags against the wall, a small smile tugging at her lips.
'Happy new year Bernie.' She murmurs when the fireworks start to fill the air around her, wishing the blonde was beside her.
'Happy New Year Serena.'
When she wakes the next morning expecting to be alone still, Bernie is curled round her sleeping soundly. Leaning down she presses a kiss to the blonde head and sends a whispered wish into the universe, her thoughts straying to the ring hidden in her bedside drawer. This will be their year, she is sure of it.
Their third new year together everything goes to plan. They are both off work, neither of them on call and they decide to spend the night at home, with Jason, seeing the New Year in in their own quiet way. It's been a hectic holiday season between Christmas and the wedding and all they want to do is spend the last of the year together reflecting on their best year yet.
They make the countdown quietly, the three of them around the tv watching the coverage of the fireworks from London. Raise a toast to 2019, Serena with her Shiraz, Bernie with a whiskey and Jason with his hot cocoa. As soon as the fireworks on the tv stop Jason wishes them both a goodnight and slips off to bed, not wishing to mess with his schedule any more than strictly necessary.
Serena is aware that Bernie has been almost silent for the last several minutes but she is cradled in the space between the blondes hips and is happy to leave her to her thoughts for a while. The tv is showing the celebrations from around the world, the fireworks from Sidney harbour, the preparations in New York, the Hogmanay celebrations in Edinburgh and the street outside their window is noisy with the crack and sparkle of at home displays and, farther away, the big display in the park.
It's not until she feels the blonde's fingers tighten where they are rested against her stomach that she realises how still and tightly coiled she has become and kicks herself for not realising sooner, not thinking about it at all.
Bernie's PTSD appears so rarely now that it's easy to forget that it exists at all although, Serena realised, it's no doubt the forgetting that puts them in situations which are potential triggers. She'd thoroughly panicked the first time Bernie had had an episode while she was around, hadn't known it was an issue the ex army medic was dealing with, didn't have the first idea what to do to help her but, after a few more experiences of helping Bernie, some extensive internet research and a frank conversation about how it was best to help the blonde she has a whole host of strategies in her arsenal. That night she doesn't draw attention to it, doesn't shift her position, simply snuggles further into the now ridged body, her hand moving to gently caress the hand now fisted in her shirt. She begins to sing quietly, their song, over and over again until she is almost hoarse. Bernie is still tense though, she can feel her muscles twitching and straining and she knows how hard the other woman is fighting to keep control. It's time for a change of tack. Turning in the tense embrace she leans back on her feet and takes one of her hands between hers, starts to massage out the tightly wound fingers all the while talking quietly about everything and nothing. She is aware of Bernie's breathing evening out but it's not until she finishes her work on both arms, her hands going back to the first, willing to do it over and over until Bernie is feeling better, that her fingers are tangled with the blondes, squeezed lightly.
'I'm ok,' she murmurs and tugs Serena back so she is lying against the length of her body, her face finding its natural place pressed into her neck, her lips pressing a kiss to a now calmed pulse. 'Thank you' she hadn't been used to this level of care from anyone before Serena and it still surprises her to come through an episode and have the other woman close still. 'Happy new year my darling.'
'Happy new year Mrs Wolfe,' Serena says and Bernie can feel the wide smile against her skin, it's still so new, so magical that they use their titles as much as they can and it causes such a bubble of joy to burst in her that she hopes it never changes, that for every new year for the rest of her life Serena remains by her side.
The years move on and their New Years rarely change, they work or spend the evening quietly at home with Jason and some combination of their kids.
There's the one year they have a party, their AAU family, the Fletchlings, older now and with boyfriends, girlfriends of their own, Cam and Morven and a tiny bump, Charlotte and whomever she is spending her time with then, Jason and his wife, Elinor, if only for an hour.
It's not until the next day, when Serena finds that someone has been sick in the potted plant in the kitchen and then all over the decking in the garden, she's betting on Mikey, he's just broken up with his long term girlfriend and he's not dealing with it well, that they vow to never do it again.
They babysit their grandchildren so that their parents can work or celebrate depending, little Arthur first, then Lucy and Amber and Serena loves every minute of seeing Bernie interact with them, the way she lights up each time, wishes silently that they had met much earlier, that they hadn't waisted time with deadbeat ex husbands, that Charlotte, Cam and Elinor were just theirs, that she could have seen Bernie glow with pregnancy, with motherhood.
After they retire they switch things up a bit, with Jason moved out years before and nothing tying them to Holby for the night they travel, they see in the new year from all over the world and it becomes a tradition of sorts that when they can they will disappear from Holby, even just for a long weekend and immerse themselves in a new tradition until age forces them to slow right down.
The first new year she spends without Bernie is a quiet affair. The kids try and persuade her to spend it with one of them, are worried about her being on her own, but it's how she wants it to be. In the quiet of their home, still so full of Bernie and the life they shared, she wrestles the photo albums from the bookcase in the spare rooms and spreads them out on their bed, takes them all in. She's pleased that she kept on top of them now even though it was a chore at times, even though the kids laughed and tried to teach her how to make online scrapbooks, how to make her digital files into albums. She's glad she made physical copies, that she has this tangible thing to hold onto now more than ever before. She's asleep before midnight and when she wakes the next morning, still caught in that warm comfortable place between asleep and awake she swears she can feel the warmth of Bernie at her back, smell her perfume in the air around her, hear her laugh drifting away on an imaginary breeze. She lets herself stay in that place for a few moments before she takes a deep breath and opens her eyes ready to face a new year, one fewer until she can be reunited with her wife, with her Bernie.