The Damage We Do – Chapter 11
As always
Italics – Past
Present- normal text.
I apparently passed my exams, no resits for me which means I am now a final year student, yippee!
This chapter was getting too long so I split it in half so the other part should be up within the next day or so. As usual I can't go to bed until I post this, does anyone else suffer from this weird fanfic-related affliction? Anyway, Thanks to Ficmouse and Trying to understand for the reviews, feedback is much appreciated :)
Queen Elizabeth Hospital Birmingham, 2012
The atmosphere in the ward was quiet. Sam still hadn't seen her father since she had spotted him leaving during rounds. The mother of the patient in the bed opposite had left for a moment, she had said something to Dylan before she left but Sam was still unable to hear what people were saying. It was odd, like there was a bit of the world she was disconnected from. She was really hoping it would get better, because she was unsure how she would be able to function in emergency medicine without her hearing. Before she could think about her future though, Sam knew there was something important she had to know so she forced herself to speak.
"Did you find out what happened to my team?"
Dylan rubbed his forehead like he had a headache. He nodded and reached for the controls to her bed, raising her carefully to a sitting position before going for the paper and pen, writing what seemed to Sam waiting impatiently like a small essay.
Jonathan Brown and Sarah Mathieson. They didn't make it to Bastion. The other serious injury is Ryan Jones. He's here in critical care.
Sam drew in a distressed breath as she read this and Dylan sat on her bed.
"It's not your fault, Sam" He said, clearly forgetting she couldn't hear him but she understood him as he didn't break eye contact.
"How do you know? I don't even know. I should never have volunteered to go back early." Dylan leant back sharply at this but Sam's attention was elsewhere.
"Sarah was only a territorial; she had a family, a little boy. It's not fair." She looked down at her hands.
Dylan looked almost angry as he gently lifted her chin so she could see what he was saying. "You have a family too Samantha, don't forget that."
"I didn't mean…" She trailed off, unsure what she had meant, just sure she wished her colleagues were alright. Dylan's attention was distracted by the mother of the patient opposite returning. She placed a steaming coffee on Sam's side table and said something to Dylan, giving Sam a friendly smile before returning to her son's bedside.
Dylan made to get up off the bed and Sam caught his hand knowing she wanted him to stay but not really knowing exactly what she wanted from him. He got up and pulled away from her hand and Sam was confused until he walked around the other side of the bed, where she was less attached with wires. He shifted her over and got on the bed with her and she needed no further encouragement to let herself be folded into his arms.
Sam lay in his arms thinking of her colleagues, Jonny the eternal optimist with his total obsession with Luton Town football team and Sarah, who she had seen be a mother figure to people only a couple of years younger than her as they struggled with terrifying injuries and who would show a picture of her little boy to anyone who stood still long enough.
"Jamie." She whispered absently.
She felt rather than heard Dylan's response as it vibrated through his chest. "Sarah's little boy. His name is Jamie. He's nine." She shook her head but stopped as another jolt of pain raced through her head. "I know I'm just a doctor. But I was the officer. They were my responsibility. I never understood why you felt so bad about Asta and about what happened with that F2 afterwards. Now I think I do." She desperately tried to hold herself together and she felt Dylan's arms tighten around her. She felt him kiss her head.
"Do you know what happened?" Sam said quietly, not holding out much hope.
Dylan shook his head. Sam tried to think of the last thing she remembered before waking up here but it was a bit of a mess and her headache made it difficult to concentrate properly. She tried to think of the last mission she remembered, a building collapse in which a couple of people had been injured. It had been her last call of the day before the other team took over so it was unlikely she had gone straight back out. That meant she was missing a substantial chunk of time. For a moment Sam was sure she could hear the roar of a Chinook and got a brief flash of Sarah smiling at something as they left but the memory slipped out of her grasp and she couldn't get any further. She lay back against Dylan, trying to come to terms with the gaping hole she knew those two people would leave in so many lives.
Plymouth, 2009
"Dylan, you should go home." He turned around to see Dr Donald watching him. "I'm just looking through the F1's portfolios so far, and it's a good job I have, some of them are a dog's dinner and they have to be submitted in a matter of weeks."
The older doctor perched herself on the edge of the desk. "You spend way more time with them than any other trainer in this department. You're always so patient. Even with what-ser-name."
"Ebony Shah, yes she is a bit of a nightmare, but there's no reason she won't become a competent doctor. She just doesn't have the emergency medicine temperament. She's very good with children and older people. She just needs a bit of confidence dealing with the generations in the middle and she'll be a brilliant general practitioner, which is what she wants."
"And you've told her that?"
"Of course I have, she needs confidence, not like Mo Hassan who needs his overconfidence beaten out of him every time I see him, typical surgeon in the making, he won't be cured till he kills someone and that is not happening on my watch."
"I worry about you Dylan." She said gently.
He looked up in surprise. "What? Why?"
"You give them so much trying valiantly to make sure each passes safely. Sooner or later one of them will fail and it'll hurt you badly. You take it so personally. Especially now Sam is away. You practically live here. I thought you were going to get a dog?"
"I haven't got round to it. And I don't take it personally." Dylan said annoyed.
"It really wasn't your fault you know." She said meaningfully.
Dylan shuffled some pictures on the desk, avoiding her eyes. "Of course not. I never said… That's not what this is about."
"Asta was a troubled young woman placed in a high stress situation particularly painful for her and she just cracked." Dr Donald continued in the same infuriatingly gentle tone.
"Well that's easy for you to say when you weren't the one who put her there, isn't it." Dylan snapped.
He lowered his eyes again. "Fine, I'll go home. I'll think about what you've said." He grabbed his rucksack and his coat and beat a strategic retreat from the office, feeling Dr Donald's eyes on his back.
Great job Keogh, he thought. Now he had yelled at his boss and was going to have to go home to his cold empty flat. On impulse he stopped at the off license and bought two bottles of wine. He didn't know if he could take five more weeks of this. He ate some cheese and drunk three glasses of red and then called Sam.
"Hello Dylan." She said cheerfully, Dylan could hear the sounds of a bar in the background, which was just as well considering the late hour. She would have been annoyed if he had woken her up, but he just needed to hear her voice.
"Hello darling. Where are you, it sounds loud?"
"Just one of the bars in town." The noises faded as Sam found a more hospitable environment for a phone call. "You're up late." She said questioningly.
"I had a bit of a set-to with Dr Donald. Well, it was mostly me doing the arguing. She thinks I'm getting too involved with the F1''s and F2's."
"You'll find it hard to defend against that Grumpy. You did marry one!" Sam said teasingly. "What precisely does she take issue with? Don't forget, I'll be displeased if you replace me with a younger model."
"The youngest is the same age as you, but thank you for reminding me of my advanced age. I don't know, I just do my job. It's not as if I want them to fail."
"I'm sure she doesn't want that either. You were a perfectly normal trainer when I had you. Better than average actually." Sam said casually.
"What a ringing endorsement. I'm so glad I married you, you obviously appreciate me." Dylan said grumpily as Sam dissolved into laughter.
"Of course I appreciate you. I miss you. What did you have for dinner?"
"Er…Salad." Dylan hedged.
"Try again." Sam said not buying it for a second.
"Wine and cheese." Dylan confessed and he could picture her on the other end of the phone with one hand on her forehead in a pained manner.
She sighed. "Tomorrow, you have to eat at least one meal with a decent portion of vegetables in it. All that cheese and wine will turn you French you know."
"My god Sam, there's no need to fight dirty. I promise to eat something a rabbit would find appetising tomorrow. How's work?"
"Still a bit boring after Plymouth and Birmingham. The social life out here is making up for it as always. Only five more weeks thank goodness. My portfolio is almost complete, you'll be happy to know."
"Well at least you're one F1 I won't have to worry about." He said.
"Liar." Sam said teasingly. "I'm the one you worry most about."
"It's a full time job, worrying about you. I'm surprised I manage to do any work at all." Dylan huffed.
"Just remember I'm always at the end of the phone. I'm in Germany not Antarctica. Just because I'm not there with you, it doesn't mean I don't love you." She said seriously
"I love you too. You know how it is. Bad day." Dylan for once didn't try and deflect the seriousness of the conversation.
"It's crap not having each other to come home to isn't it." Sam said tonelessly and Dylan realised with a start she was just as miserable as he was, she was just hiding it better.
"I thought…" He said before he could stop himself.
"What, you thought you were the only one finding it hard? I know it's my fault Dylan. I can't moan about it to you, how could I?" She sounded upset.
"I don't blame you Sam. I just miss you. I've never missed anyone so much before."
"Oi Nicko! What you doing out here? Do you want in on this taxi or what?" A man's voice with a strong London accent came over the phone.
"I'll be there in a minute, just on the phone to my husband." Sam said to him.
"Ah, the famous Dylan! She misses you loads bro, she doesn't shut up about you, especially in work. Dylan said, Dylan taught me…."He put on a high feminine voice that didn't sound like Sam at all.
"Shut up!" Sam said sounding embarrassed and the mans voice shut off as the sound of Sam hitting someone came over the phone and Dylan tried not to laugh at the idea of Sam quoting him to her colleagues.
"It was one occasion, alright." She said, obviously speaking to him again. "You're never going to let me live this down are you?"
"No." Dylan said dryly, still with a massive smile on his face.
"I have to go. I love you grumpy."
"Love you too." Sam hung up and Dylan shook his head with a smile to himself as he tidied up the wine glass and bottles.
Queen Elizabeth Hospital Birmingham, 2012
Sam was happy to see her father later in the day. He had obviously changed his clothes and he also looked very tired just like Dylan. At seeing her awake he came forward and kissed her forehead. He seemed ill at ease around Dylan, which confused her a little. Dylan ignored it and picked up the same newspaper he had been pretending to read earlier. If he spent any more time with it he would be able to recite it verbatim.
Her father sat down in a chair that had been left by the side of her bed on the opposite side to where Dylan had obviously made camp.
"How are you feeling Sammy?" He said slowly and Sam was happy to hear she could make out he was speaking, although the exact words were still beyond her hearing at this point. Hearing how long the words lasted made it easier to work out what he was saying, so it was only a small pause before she responded.
"Better than earlier, dad." He looked relieved at her words and replied but Sam didn't catch it.
"Sorry?" She said, hoping this was not a nasty preview of her future. Dylan passed over the paper and pen, saying something to her father without looking up from his paper.
"You gave us quite a scare." He tried again slowly and Sam got it this time.
"So I've heard. Sorry dad."
"Maria, Clem and Immy send their love. I'll bring them to see you when you're a bit better."
Sam nodded, thinking she had understood that but not holding her breath on it actually happening. She had seen Clem and Imogen only three times in the four years she had been married to Dylan, and two of those times she had dropped in unexpectedly. She got on very well with them and luckily Maria didn't dare misdirect her gifts to the girls at Christmas and birthday's so they hadn't forgotten who she was.
"When do you think you'll regain your hearing?" He said uncomfortably and Sam was reminded of his hatred of hospitals and sickness. After her mother had died she had found it difficult to talk, sometimes not speaking for days at first and this lack of communication had been the most difficult thing for him to deal with. He had taken her to psychologists and psychiatrists but in the end it was his decision to hire an au pair that had helped Sam the most. The young Swedish woman, whose only responsibility and focus was Sam herself was much more able to help Sam than her father, who had been dealing with his wife's death and trying to do his job, which incidentally involved a lot of travelling, at the same time. Emma had been there for Sam through the difficult year after her mother's death and through the first year of her father's marriage to Maria, which had been deeply confusing to her. She was a child psychologist in her native Sweden now and Sam was still in contact with her via email.
"I don't know." Sam said and fidgeted with her gown nervously, not wanting to talk about this. Her father seemed to sense this and he changed the subject by retrieving a newspaper from the messenger bag by his side. He placed it in front of her as if it spoke for itself and Sam was startled to see her face staring back at her from the print. She grabbed it and pulled it closer. It detailed her regiment, her job, lots about her father, and even some things about Dylan's brother. It listed the dead member's of her team and Sam felt her vision blur with unshed tears as she saw her friends names in print. It said she had been injured in a second wave suicide bombing. She waited, but no new memories came at this information. After what happened with Salaih Arangar she had regretted what she had done. What if she had hesitated at the crucial moment? Was this her fault?
"Dad, do you know what happened out there?" He looked at her carefully.
"I've seen the reports. The investigation is still officially ongoing. I can't tell you what's in the reports Sammy. Do you remember anything?" Sam looked away and suddenly she was in a dust filled room, someone was screaming nearby and the noise of the helicopter was blocking out everything else. She moved her head to see who was screaming and suddenly she was back in her hospital room. She inhaled sharply. Her father was still watching her carefully.
"No. I don't remember anything." She said levelly. She looked back down at the newspaper. "How did they get my name?"
Her father looked embarrassed. "Balls up at Westminster. It's my area of responsibility you see. I usually get incident reports sent to my blackberry. They sent me one with your name in it. One of my staff caught the mistake straight away and got someone to pull me out of the chamber to tell me properly but it got caught on camera."
Sam barely followed that. Frustrated, she threw the paper down. "I never agreed to this. My photo and that I'm a member of the armed forces is out there. How can I still do my job overseas? They've made me a target."
She sensed Dylan looking at her and met his eyes and remembered with a jolt the conversation they had over the phone before she had deployed.
"Excuse me." He said, and walked off, looking ready to hit something.
Her father placed his hand on hers to get her attention. "This has been very hard on him you know. He nearly decked me the first night."
Sam frowned, that wasn't her grumpy at all. He had grown up in a family of lawyers after all; he knew that words were the best form of both defence and offence. She remembered the night of the E.D. fire and trying to do her job through the slow realisation that she may never see her husband ever again. If what he had been through had been anything like that, he had probably been in pieces.
She met her father's eyes. "What are my chances, of going back to active duty?"
"Assuming your hearing returns and there are no other ill effects, good. Is that what you want?" Her father sat back in his chair.
"No. I want out." She said with conviction, deciding then and there that this was the last trauma she was ever going to put Dylan through.
"I'll see to it Sammy." He promised, looking as relieved as she felt. Now that the decision had been made it was like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders.
"I won't be here tomorrow, I have to go back to London, but I'll be back up on Sunday if you're still here. You look much better you know, despite the …." He gestured to the bruise on her face.
"Thanks dad." She said sarcastically.
"It's made me realise how little we see of each other. Maybe we should do something to change that." He got up and picked up his bag.
"I'd like that." Sam smiled and he leant in and hugged her.