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Bernie was throwing stuff in to a bag, well more accurately bags, trying to quell the rising despair at yet again having totally fucked up and this time, being truly heartbroken about it. Leaving to go on tour was different, she was serving her country. Yes, saying goodbye to the kids was hard every time, but she could always justify it to herself, especially when she saw the people that her presence was helping in the hell-holes of the world that the army was sent to. With inadequate kit and crap resources, she thought to herself, remembering the countless operations she'd performed in less than sterile conditions through necessity, the tracheotomy she'd performed in Kandahar with a ball point pen - not just on TV she thought, the little boys legs she'd splinted with beams from the rubble of his own house in Fallujah and many more. Such a sharp contrast to the gleaming trauma unit she now considered her own at Holby General. Had considered.
Leaving Marcus, well her hand had been forced their by her coming out, not the way she'd ever intended it, but it was a blessed relief if she was honest. It hasn't worked for a long time and coming back under the pretext of saving her marriage had only revealed the cracks that ran deep, especially the fact she actually loved women, a fact borne out of her torrid and tempestuous affair with Alex. There was shouting and recriminations and begging. Bernie took a deep breath and forced herself to remember the beating he'd given her before she left the house. She probably, definitely, could have overpowered him, stopped him, but she didn't want to. She deserved it and the pain of the blows he inflicted with his hands and his feet were honestly welcome, so much easier to deal with than words. "Or the other thing" Bernie thought, then pushed it far back again in her brain, riding a wave of nausea as she did. Then he had waged war on her in the divorce, her own personal Afghanistan, plotting, planning and devastating her with his own IED, using the children. Those statements they had written that had stolen her breath and coherent thought. Where her solicitor had made her lie on the floor with her feet raised because the blood had drained so entirely from Bernie's head. The words that she used to punish herself with at the lowest moments. "Mum was never there". "She hated Dad and I think she hates us too". She sat with her head in her hands remembering this until she needed to go back to the matter in hand.
Alex, well she left Bernie, physically, but in actuality, Bernie had left her. Not able to cope with how they had been outed and the after effects she had emotionally withdrawn until she saw that Alex had had to go. With Bernie's blessing now, she realised. Their affair had been thrilling, opening her eyes to some of the reality of being with a woman, but it was never meant to last. Stolen moments in army tents, hands all over each other in the locker room but none of the intimacy of a real relationship, nights spent just holding each other, lazy days in pjs, holding hands on a walk through the park, none of it. And despite being a big, macho army medic, Bernie was and is a romantic at heart. Loves the fluff and domesticity of relationships, wants the dreary and mundane with Serena as much as she wants...
"Woah there Major" she thought. All of that last thought, a relationship with Serena, sex with Serena was too much to bear, the pain of glimpsing that in their easy friendship, then losing it because essentially she couldn't keep it confined to friendship, confined to flirty banter in theatre, was why she at that very moment stuffing pants and socks in a duffel bag.
Stopping, she sat on the edge of her bed, checking her phone quickly. Nothing. Maybe Serena had changed her mind about wanting to see Bernie. The theft she'd sent back, simply "when", had perhaps been a little, frosty? Not really what she wanted but the plan to protect Serena from herself was in full on mode and maybe, she would text back that it didn't matter, to tell Bernie to just fuck off then, though she knew that was unlikely. Serena wanted, no needed her chance to tell Bernie it wasn't okay, that she is mad and that she never wanted to see the blonde ever again.
Semi-consciously she was running her short fingernails down her forearm, digging in slightly more as she thought of the hurt and disappointment, betrayal and anger that she would see in Serena's eyes. Knew she would, because she had put all those emotions there before in other situations and yet each time, her eyes had softened and she had ended up looking back at Bernie again with such kindness it made her whimper. But not this time. Even Serena couldn't defend this level of indefensible. It was like Helmand all over again, realising a split second too late that she was about to be blown up on that bridge and then waking up on the roadside, metal sticking out of her, with her young charges working furiously to keep her alive. That split second where she had realised her foolishness but was powerless to change it. Felt so like this.
Collecting a few things from the bathroom she placed them in her bag and began to pack her books into a box. Never one for frills and fancies her flat was as sterile as her bunks in barracks. Collecting the two treasured photos of Cam and Charlotte from the mantelpiece she dropped a kiss to each frame and added them to the top of the box.
That was it. Packed.
She looked at the clock on the wall. 5am. Gosh she was tired. She sat on the sofa and pulled the comforter over her, feeling suddenly cold and weary, feeling her age as her bones creaked a little. Resting her head against the back of the sofa she thought about the desert, the wide open expanses, so rugged, so bleak and yet so beautiful. Nothing but miles and miles of space, no worries, no fear, just gentle peace especially at night when the stars came out and lit the heavens so majestically. Not a big one for religion, Bernie though if there was a God, then this was evidence of Him. The stunning beauty of it all. She closed her eyes and felt the chill of the night air and she reminisced.
Her pocket vibrated and she jumped.
Serena.