Song: P!nk - Don't Let Me Get Me (It fits her situation in this chapter)
With thanks to the lovely Xx Smiley90 xX (you gave me the kick up the arse I totally needed ;) ), 'Daydream' and kat183. Feedback is always very reassuring and encouraging. So thank you very much, I actually don't like this chapter. But I thought it was necessary for Becker to see the other side of Hannah. Anyways, tell me what you think ~ Amy x
Serendipity
"History, despite its wrenching pain, cannot be unlived, but if faced with courage, need not be lived again." ~ Maya Angelou
o7
It was late when she awoke inside the ARC, when it took her ten minutes to even realise where she was they decided it would be best that they stayed in rather than went out for their planned meal. Becker drove them home and made some easily digested soup while she groggily showered and changed into her pyjamas. She sat on the sofa and offered him a smile of gratitude when he handed her a bowl. She only managed a few mouthfuls before her complexion lost the colour she had slowly regained. He watched her turn a shade of pale green and quickly grabbed the waste bin beside his feet, pushing it in front of her in time to catch her stomach's resurfacing contents. He took the bowl from her as she grasped the wooden container for another bout of vomiting. The Captain brushed strands of hair out of her face and rubbed her back comfortingly whilst her body shuddered and heaved. She finally lowered the bin and groaned, gladly accepting the water he replaced it with. She greedily drained the glass as he got rid of her regurgitation. A hand pressed against her forehead. Although she was shivering her body's temperature was souring, already her forehead was dampening and dark circles were begining to form round her eyes - a sure sign of a growing fever. A blanket draped round her shoulders, wrapping round her before she was pulled against a warm body.
"You didn't have to do this." She told him, her teeth chattering together and muffling the words.
"I think, sometimes, even doctors need someone to take care of them." He replied evenly, tilting his head downwards to meet her gaze. She blinked, pausing tracing the pattern of the throw.
"Is that so?" She smiled wanly. "Well then, Dr Becker, don't let me fall asleep." His eyebrows twitched downwards before a flash of raw concern replaced the momentary confusion.
"Do you need to go to a hospital?"
"No. I just don't want fever dreams." His frame relaxed against hers enough to breathe a laugh of relief.
"Fever dreams?" His eyebrows arched, his left thumb moving gently over the smooth skin of her cheek.
"Yes. When you have a fever and you dream really weird and unsettling things. Horrible."
"Ah. What do you usually dream about when you're ill?"
"My sisters." Sisters. Cutter had only mentioned one. As far as he, and her file was aware, she only had Mira. He sensed a story behind it but decided it should be a topic for another day. She was already sick, he didn't want to upset her too.
He smiled faintly in response as her exhausted frame slumped. His left arm wrapped round her frame instinctively tightened, her head fell against his chest too drained to command her usual composure.
"Yes. Last time I actually turned delirious." She managed a weak grin at the memory. "Gave Mi and Jen a right fright."
"Why?"
"Well delirium can be a side effect of fever."
"No, I mean why did you scare them?"
"Oh, I thought I was back in Iraq."
"Ah. I can see how that may have been frightening."
"Terrifying." She agreed with a wry smile. He chuckled, resting the side of his face on the top of her head. It was funny how comfortable he had become with her. The realisation made him smile vaguely to himself. "I know you don't want to go to sleep but you really should get some rest." She sighed, knowing he was right.
"Thanks for everything, Becker." She murmured, closing her eyes as the room tilted.
"Anytime, Hannah." He replied, hooking an arm under her legs and lifting her from the couch and into her room. She pressed herself into him in when the movement brought a wave of nausea. Her grip on his shirt only easing slightly when he laid her softly down onto the mattress.
"Stay, please." Her eyes creaked open when he leaned back. She watched a conflict behind his expression and held her breath, her fingers retracting to fall limply onto the sheets.
"I will, I need to shower and change first." He noticed the jump into instantly guarded mode but his words appeared to lessen the tension in her shoulders.
'She needs to know you're not going to walk away. Put yourself in her position, wouldn't you be insecure too?' Part of Sarah's advice came to mind. His gaze softened. They were no longer simply discussing sleeping arrangements. He knew that the moment she asked him not to leave. He rested his forehead against hers.
"I'm not going anywhere, Hannah." He told her, placing a firm kiss on the top of her head, his fingers brushing the length of her face. She smiled wanly and he turned to grab a fresh wife beater and a clean pair of baggy joggers, disappearing to the bathroom. She was asleep when he returned. He slid into bed beside her, and was pleasantly surprised when she turned towards him, curving under his chin. It felt like his eyes had only been closed for a few minutes when his phone ringing woke him. Hannah groaned from beside him as he grabbed the device and almost broke the answer button in his grip.
"Hello?"
"I take it you're not a morning person then." Danny's cheery voice replied.
"Not when it's half two in the morning." Was the half growled reply when he glanced at the glowing numbers of the clock. The other man chuckled before turning serious.
"You know about the London riots, right?" The Captain guessed where this was going.
"It's gotten that bad?"
"They're getting too close to the ARC. Minister wants it dealt with A.S.A.P, police are already stretched. That means the boys in black are gonna have to lend a hand." Sometimes he wished he wasn't right.
"I'm on my way." He sighed and hung up, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed.
"Washappenin'?" Hannah's hoarse voice asked as she began to sit up. Even in the dim light he could it was still visibly apparent she wasn't well. He leant over, gently pushing her back under the covers.
"Nothing to panic about, nobody's hurt. You know the rioters?" She nodded. "They're getting near the ARC so Lester's calling us in to clear them. Go back to sleep, I'll be back as soon as it's over." She nodded mutely again, too bleary to argue. He pressed a kiss to her forehead before turning and leaving.
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"Dr Moore! We've got another ballistic trauma from a shell, the right clavical looks almost shattered!"
Beep. Beep. Beep.
She can pick the sound of a heart monitor out in the noisiest of rooms.
"Dr Moore, we've got a crush injury! The soldier was trapped under the debris for fifteen minutes were not sure if we can fix the internal damage in time."
Thud. Thud. Thud.
She knows the speed her heart accelerates to when she's working against the odds.
"Dr Moore, the hematomas are verging on fatal, what do you want to do?"
Pant. Pant. Pant.
She feels the stress in her breathing whenever she's under strain.
"Dr Moore, am I going to die?"
Tear. Tear. Tear.
Goes her heart, everytime she loses a patient. Even worse when they know it.
Her eyes snapped open and she jumped into a sitting position. Shaking as she scanned her room. Her heart pounded against her rib cage, just like it's done so many times before. Her chest rising and falling quickly from her laboured breathing.
"What's wrong, Hannah?" She jumped again and frantically felt for the bed side lamp. Her fingers fumbling on the switch before the bulb banishes the dark from her bedroom. She's alone. She unsteadily rose and took weak steps towards the door.
"I haven't upset you have I?" She inhaled air sharply, gasping and spinning round. No ones there. She blinked, trying to dispel the waves of tiredness still making her limbs feel like lead. She steps out of her doorway. And onto a... street? She frowns. How the hell did I get here?
"I'm sorry, Hannah." She looks across the road to a brunette girl, around seven years old talking to another blonde teenager who's looking impassively back at her.
"Let's not talk about it, alright Belinda?" Her heart wrenches painfully and she realises she's looking at herself and her youngest sister. Mira is standing beside her, her expression conflicting.
"Okay." She younger girl looks abashed and she gets the urge to open her mouth and tell herself to stop being such a cow. Her tongue is stuck to the roof of her mouth.
In the distance she can hear sirens. With increasing horror she watches as the dog in Belinda's grasp wriggles and gets free. Don't, don't move!
"I'll get her! I'm sorry, Hannah! I'll get her!"
"No, Belinda! Stop!" Her teenage self yells, when her sister keeps going she turns to Mira. "Do not move from this spot." You're wasting time! " Stay here." She rushes across the road and starts to runs alongside herself.
"Belinda, where are you?" They round a bend and with a sick pang watch the child about to run onto a road, with a speeding driver hurtling down the road. "BELINDA! STOP!" She's running again, too late. She watches her sister being hit. Her teenage self is screaming her sister's name. She watches herself fall onto her knees beside the body already covered in small lungs are choking on it. And it's all her fault.
"Murderer!"
She sobs.
"Hannah!" The medic's body jerked as she came back from the haunting nightmares. Becker's face was creased with concern as he leant over her, holding firmly onto her shoulders. Bits of her hair stuck to the side of her face as she shook violently under him. "It's okay." He soothed, his hand cupping the side of her face while her panic striken gaze darts from side to side. It felt gloriously cool against her burning skin.
"You're back." She croaked.
"Yes. I'm right here." She closed her eyes and took deep breaths, succumbing again to the nagging fatigue that loosened her hold on consciousness. Her hands gripped onto his. This time, with Becker beside her, she didn't feel quite as exposed.
Or at least, her subconcious didn't.
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He awoke the next morning to find she was already up, blinking so his eyes could adjust to the light, he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and entered into the open plan main room. She was sitting on one of stools beside the breakfast bar, her hands wrapped round a steaming mug of tea. She rose to her feet when she saw him, walking into the kitchen to make him one despite his protests for her to stay seated. Simply smiling over her shoulder she moved to the kettle.
"I see you're feeling much better." He gave in, lowering himself onto the other stool and watched her stirring the steaming beverage.
"Yes, thank you." She replied, placing it down in front of him. "Lester's given us the morning off. Unless there's an anomaly of course." She shot him a wan smile.
"How generous of him." His lips twitched, taking a sip of his tea. He glanced up to find her rubbing the small of her back with tender fingers.
"Still a bit sore." She sighed, catching his scrutiny.
"You should take the day off. How's your stomach holding up?" He knew the suggestion was futile. As if Hannah, would miss work.
"I think I may be mildly allergic to the tranquiliser. Although, it could just have been my body's reaction to it." She mused, leaning back against a counter. He didn't like the way she was pondering this.
"We don't need to find out." He commented dryly watching her mull it over. Her eyes danced with laughter when they feel on the stern look he was shooting her. "Temple will not be allowed near any form of arms again." He admonished, much to the blonde's amusement. She smirked, foreseeing the impending guilt trip Connor would be subjected to courtesy of her colleagues.
"Try not to be too hard on him."
"Bet you wouldn't have said that last night." The corners of her lips curved slightly upwards, shaking her head. No, she certainly would not have been so forgiving. "Have you ate yet?"
"No. Haven't been up much longer than you."
"Fancy going out for breakfast before going to work?" He asked casually, glancing downwards as he took another sip.
"Yeah, sounds good."
'She'll put her life in your hands but her feelings are a different story. She's got trust issues. Learning about each other will help. Little things make all the difference.'
The diner he found was relatively quiet, loud enough that they didn't feel the need to whisper but quiet enough for them to enjoy a relaxed breakfast. To keep themselves entertained whilst they waited for their orders Becker suggested asking random trivial questions. She thought it odd judging by her perplexed expression, but she agreed.
"What's your favourite colour?"
"Green. What's your favourite food?"
"Green? I was expecting black for some reason. Pancakes. What's your favourite film?"
"Very funny, black is my uniform's colour I have to wear it. The Lion King."
"Now who's the comedian?"
"I'm just naturally funny. Any dark secrets?"
"None that aren't in my file." She answered, matching his teasing smile. Her chin rested in the palm of one hand, the colour gradually returning to her cheeks. She looked much healthier than the night before. The fever had worn off and he hadn't been awoken by any more panicked nightmares.
"Touché. I forgot to ask… did you er.. Sort out Abby?" His gaze shifted down onto the table awkwardly before looking back at her blank face.
"Sort out Abby?" She echoed, confusion evident in her tone.
"Yeah.. With her.. cycle." Hannah bit back a giggle and suppressed the grin to a mild smile.
"Oh. Yes she's fine." She saved him further embarrassment by changing the subject.
"Why a soldier?"
"Military family. It's in the blood." He smiled wryly as she dropped the toothpick she'd picked up and leaned back in her seat.
"Why the ARC?"
"Who could possibly resist the lure of dinosaurs?" He was joking but she sensed a part of the attraction to this job had in fact been the certainty of excitement. Boys will boys. "I wanted to serve my country. Like any other soldier. Do you ever regret becoming a Doctor?"
"No. I've saved too many people's lives to regret it, that kind of outweighs all the people you lose. Especially when you bring them back from the verge of death, best feeling in the world." She smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Though you never forget the people you weren't quick or good enough for, so I can sympathise when people turn bitter. You can hate yourself for a long time." She became more distant for a moment, staring vacantly at nothing in particular.
"What are you thinking about?" He'd already correctly guessed the answer. She paused and he waited.
"Iraq. I lost a lot of good people, had nightmares for a long time afterwards."
"How did you deal with it, when you were away?" He caught the mischievous twinkle in her eyes and he knew instantly it was going to be something that he didn't like.
"Smoking." He grimaced and she grinned. "I don't anymore obviously and I'm not proud of it. But in those kinds of situations you do what you can to stay sane."
"So why a Doctor? What inspired you onto that path?" He attempted to keep the conversation light hearted but as soon as the words left his mouth he became aware he'd made a mistake. Her smile dropped and her eyebrows twitched downwards. She hesitated again and for a stretched moment they sat in an uncomfortable silence.
"I had two sisters once." She eventually broke it, swallowing hard to relieve the pressure in her tightened throat and dampen her dried mouth. "Mira and Belinda; my half sister. She was killed when I was 15, got knocked over by a hit and run driver. We were playing in one of the streets behind our house, and this car just appeared from around the corner. She had a hold of our dog, Stella, but she got out of her grasp. Belinda chased after her. The ambulance came but by then she was in a critical condition. The Doctor treating her failed." She swallowed again and blinked a couple of times to stop the stinging in her gaze. "I wanted to be the one who could have saved someone like her. I wanted to be the one who could fix any mess some idiot made." Her face contracted into a pained expression, her eyes sliding downwards. She blinked again reigning in her front. She straightened her spine and forced a smile. "Now that I've thoroughly depressed us both," She choked a laugh. "Tell me about you. I can imagine you being the goody goody child." Her walls were up again. He suppressed the disappointment to keep it from leaking into his face. Instead he raised his eyebrows and leaned forward challengingly.
"Is that so?"
"Yes, you have that look about you."
"Then you, Hannah, are in for a surprise." She grinned.
"Is that right, Becker." She paused, making a bridge with her fingers and resting her chin on them, her head tilted to the side thoughtfully. "Or should it be Hilary?" She could barely hide the sly smile when his expression darkened. "Becker it is."
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