A/N Beezarre requested a "Berena and hand-holding" fic following an OTP headcanon ask which turned into a 5+1 fic along the lines of 'Bernie being unsure and the one time she isn't'. I'm posting as part of Berena Appreciation Week for the two categories of day three: favourite series 19 scene/episodes (the roof scene) and also break up. Some angst, some fluff and some rambling, enjoy!
Chapter title from 'Hold My Hand' by Nat King Cole
I
Bernie feels like she's in a dream. Well, almost. She's not sure why her subconscious would put her in such a mundane setting. Except there is nothing mundane about this, despite her turning up for another shift at Holby. She is arriving with Serena. Very early, but with Serena none the less. After a week of kisses, of tears, of talking, of nerves, of firsts. And now another first: arriving on shift together. She smiles as she gets out of the car and reaches out as Serena joins her. They haven't really been out together, the rota preventing them from being on the same shift until now, and their free time together had been spent rather more occupied in one or another of their houses. Now Bernie feels the pull that has always been there, that need to touch Serena, be close to her, and she can. But as soon as her fingers brush Serena's they are pulled away, and it feels empty. She feels her face fall, can't help it but she tries to continue as normal.
"Are you in a hurry?"
"Oh well, you know me, like to lead by example," Serena is walking briskly, just a slight step ahead.
"But we're half an hour early," she states, knows that Serena is covering up but doesn't want to hear the real reason. She knows, deep down what it is. She speeds up, but Serena calls her back.
"It only takes one monkey for the jungle drums to start beating around here."
And there it is. She doesn't want to be seen. Bernie understands, of course, it's hard to be visible especially in a place of work that relies on respect and reputation. She berates the small, selfish part of her that is deflated, because she doesn't want to have to hide herself anymore. That isn't fair though, not on Serena. It's new for both of them and they've got to find a way that works, slowly but surely. So, she agrees, and continues, hoping the time will come soon. The job calls.
II
A rare day off together a few weeks later sees them in the town centre, buying Christmas gifts and preparing for the big day itself. And although Bernie has rarely seen Christmas as a 'big day' in recent years, this one really is. The first time Charlotte will meet Serena, the first time she will meet Ellie. But also her first Christmas with Serena. It seems special, even if they will only have been going out for a couple of months. They walk side by side, arms brushing but she still hasn't linked their hands. Not after that morning, because she can't be sure. They aren't near the hospital but still in public. She doesn't want to take the chance and have the humiliation again. And asking feels childish, so she decides to leave it, enjoy her presence and share in her delight at the treats of the Christmas market.
"Shall we get a coffee before we start properly shopping?" Serena suggests, pointing to a little cafe across the road.
"Sounds perfect, I think we need something sugary to keep our energy up as well," she flashes a conspiratorial smile and Serena rolls her eyes.
"Fine, coffee and a pastry, come on then."
They stand at the curb, it's a busy road and there seems to be no relent in the traffic.
"You'd think they'd put a crossing along here at some point," Serena mutters. "But no, the council has far better things to spend their money on it seems. Although I'm not sure what."
"We'll have to make a run for it when there's a gap," she smiles fondly, it's not the first time she's heard this rant.
"Run?! That's not really my bag I'm afraid,"
"Oh, come on, you won't get your coffee otherwise. After this red one, okay?"
"Bernie, I don't think-" but Bernie didn't let her finish, grabbing her hand and pulling her along. They speed up, not quite a run but they make it across to the other side and Bernie laughs.
"See, plenty of time," she grins then is suddenly as aware that their fingers are linked. She looks down at them, starts to loosen her grip and apologise but Serena shakes her head and squeezes tight before turning towards the cafe. She pushes the door, a small bell announcing their arrival.
Bernie rarely lets go for the rest of the day, revelling in the feeling of walking through the streets, hands together, arms linked. The ease of it, not worrying what people think, surprises her but it feels so natural. She can't quite believe her luck.
III
The silence in the house is stifling, oppressing, catching in Bernie's throat. It's the silence of not knowing what to say, but desperately wanting to say something. Any time she tries the words die on her lips. Because what can you say to someone who is about to bury their daughter? They haven't said much in the past two weeks. She can only feel grateful that this means Serena hasn't told her to go, that it's her fault and it's best they don't see each other.
Each night Serena has laid next to Bernie, silent tears rolling down her cheeks, pretending to be asleep. And all Bernie can do is be there, to comfort her and help Jason's recovery as best she can while Serena and Edward plan the funeral. And now that day is here. And Bernie doesn't know what to do except make a breakfast she knows no-one will eat and water the flowers that are starting to look tired. She knows how they feel.
She drives Jason to the church, he doesn't want to go in the car following the hearse, and Bernie doesn't want to intrude on Serena and Edward. They may no longer be close but this is still something they should do together. She stands with the other mourners outside, all unfamiliar faces. She presumes some are friends of Elinor's, maybe some are Edward's family. She wonders if they know her, or at least of her. The knot in her stomach pulls tighter and she is unsure. What will Serena want of her? She wants to support her, be a shoulder to cry on but they are still a relatively new couple and she doesn't want to be a cause of more anxiety and emotion for Serena.
Ushers direct them into the church and Jason asks where they should sit. She shrugs, maybe the second row, but they see Liberty taking her place in the front pew and Jason decides to follow suit, although on the other side of the church.
The procession is solemn, they stand and Bernie looks back down the aisle. Serena is expressionless, her eyes unfocused. Edward's hand hovers at her elbow, but they don't touch. His face is set, determined, although his eyes are red rimmed, large bags underneath.
The coffin is set down and the last note from the organ rings out. Serena and Edward separate, and Bernie offers Serena a brief squeeze on her shoulder before sitting. She barely hears the words of the opening prayer, trying to work out what she should do, to let Serena know she is there but not to force her into anything. She settles on leaving her hand palm up in her laptop, tilted slightly towards Serena for her to take if she wants.
A moment later cool skin meets her own, their fingers entwining. Serena grips her throughout, and as the vicar closes the service their eyes briefly meet. She can see a plea, through the tears, a glance down at their joined hands and she knows, somehow, that Serena doesn't want her to let go.
IV
Jasmine disappears back to the stairwell after thanking Serena and nodding at Bernie. Then they are alone, on the roof. Bernie's heart is still pounding, the sick feeling in her stomach not settling. She needs to be close to Serena, convince herself this isn't a dream. But she stays a few paces away, unsure.
"Should I go?"
Serena smiles softly, shaking her head.
"There's another chair behind that vent. If you're not busy."
Moments later Serena is throwing the blankets over Bernie and she places her hand palm up in her lap. Serena takes it, her skin like ice against Bernie's. They sit in silence for a while, looking up at the emerging stars. She wonders what this means, for Serena, for them. She knows things can't continue as they are. Serena isn't happy and Bernie can't do anything to change that. She can only offer herself as a…she doesn't know. Whatever Serena needs, because imagining her life without Serena in it, in any way, is impossible. But she doesn't ask, not at first. She merely trails over Serena's knuckles with her thumb.
"So, you've even got your own pigeon?"
She breaks the silence and for a few moments they forget. Forget the events of the day, of the last few months, of what needs to be said. Until the conversation ends and she feels the weight settle again. And there's no avoiding it this time.
"Is this where you tell me that you want to go on a sabbatical?"
And there it was. Not a promise as such, but a hope. But Serena never removes her hand from Bernie's grip, and that's what Bernie holds on to, when she starts to doubt. A soft kiss and a squeeze of her hand are the confirmation from Serena that she wants this to work out, even if they don't know how or when.
V
She lets Serena cry, holding her until she stops shaking. The sounds of AAU, of Greta's pain through the contractions, fade out as Serena raises her head from her shoulder and she links their hands across Bernie's knee.
She focuses on their thumbs, fighting for dominance because she can't look at Serena. She knows what is about to be said, what they are both thinking. She feels Serena taking a breath. She always was better at the words. Bernie now wishes she wasn't.
"It's not going to work is it?"
She doesn't know anything anymore. Except that she loves Serena. What was it that Greta had said? The greatest love affair of her life. That sounds about right. But there isn't a way through this. Because Greta was right, statistically they should have broken up already. And realistically, they are, because they haven't been talking, not like couples do.
Fleur appears, and it's a relief because Bernie is so close to tears. Then she realises what Fleur's appearance means. That Serena is going, that she will let go of her hand and go to her family. But she nods, releases her fingers and watches Serena go.
She doesn't like goodbyes, has said too many of them in her life. She prefers to slip away without having to answer questions. Jason would have a lot of questions. She can't invade on that family moment. She isn't family.
She flexes her fingers. She can still feel the warmth of Serena's hand, lingering on her skin, gradually fading. She doesn't know whether she will see Serena again, but she has to leave. The farewell would be too painful.
+ I
Bernie can't believe it's only been 24 hours since she stepped onto the plane in Nairobi. She is simultaneously wired with energy and about to crash from fatigue. They come out of Greta's surgery, change back into civilian clothes and visit Jason and Guinevere. Jason's joy at becoming a father radiates and Bernie is filled with love. They take photos with the new baby, then as a group when Greta returns from the recovery ward.
It's getting late and Serena is the one to suggest they leave. Jason and Greta both look like they need the sleep and Bernie feels the same. She has gone through every emotion she could name and more today, but she is finishing the day with pure happiness. Things will work out, because she loves Serena and Serena loves her. It is enough. They collect their bags from the office and as Serena locks the door Bernie reaches for her.
They walk through the hospital hand in hand, not caring who sees anymore. Besides they gave them much more of a show in the foyer. She glances back as they reach the door, her old domain feels different, new staff, new dynamics with Serena at the helm. But it's still the ward where she fell in love, will always be in her heart.
Serena tightens her grip, bringing her back to reality. It grounds her, a promise that she returns. That they will wait and there will be a time when they walk hand in hand again.
