Angst angst angst angst angst
Sorry for this taking so long and sorry for it being so short, I promise the second part will be livelier! I think this is the first chapter that is entirely plot, so make what you will of that!
Thank you all so so much for all your support. I really wouldn't keep writing without it, so keep nagging me to get it done! ;)
Enjoy!
Song for this chapter: Don't Dream It's Over - Crowded House
Serena doesn't sleep a wink. Uncertainty and fear claws at her stomach, her mind whirring with possible situations, Bernie's words repeating in her head over and over.
I don't want you to come here anymore.
She turns over, buries her face in her pillow, biting the insides of her cheeks to stop the tears that threaten to fall. What could she mean? Well, the meaning was quite apparent, but why? Bernie had seemed alright at work, hadn't she? If it was anything to do with their actions the night before, surely she would have given her some sort of indication whilst they were working that things weren't alright, that she had overstepped the mark…
But maybe she did overstep the mark. Maybe they went too far. Bernie was very drunk, after all. It definitely surpassed what they usually do. Or maybe Serena has scared her off, has come on too strong and Bernie doesn't want that. Or maybe Bernie just doesn't feel the same. Perhaps it was only sex to her, and now she realises that Serena's feelings run deeper she has decided that it's best to keep distance, so as not to lead her on. Her stomach drops as she realises that this is probably the most plausible explanation.
The loss she feels is immeasurable. Not only is she heartbroken, but she has lost the best friend she's ever had. All because she just couldn't resist, couldn't control herself enough to keep that professional boundary. She thinks back to when she found out about Edward's affair, thinks that it didn't hurt half as much as this. Edward was dispensable to her, always. The only thing that truly tied her to him was Elinor. Bernie, however, feels different. Not only is she her best friend, her love, but her partner, her work colleague. The run a department together, for goodness sake. Their relationship held so much. How on earth was she supposed to just carry on as if nothing had happened?
But, she realises, wiping her eyes, she must find a way to carry on. She must force herself to detach, to move on quickly and cleanly in order to get on with what was really important to her: saving lives. Wiping her eyes, she forces the tears back, quashes the lump in her throat expertly. Tomorrow will be another day, she tells herself.
She still doesn't sleep.
::
Getting ready for work the following day, Serena is filled with the most sickening sense of foreboding that it almost makes her want to take the day off. Her limbs feel heavy as she applies her makeup, blowdries her hair. She can't force herself to eat her breakfast, or even to finish her cup of tea.
Come on, Campbell. Chin up, eyes forward, shoulders back. Move on.
The drive to work is pleasant, thanks to Jason keeping her company, and by the time she arrives she feels in better spirits. Something feels off, though, as she walks in. Something in the atmosphere, a certain tension, a discomfort. She puts it down to her changed feelings about Bernie, and carries on.
She hangs up her coat, rolls up her sleeves, and sets to work. Bernie isn't in until lunchtime that day, so she allows herself a little breathing space, catching up on her paperwork now so that she won't have to spend too much time with her in the office later. By the time she's leaving for her first elective at quarter to twelve, she feels much more confident that she can get through this.
She rolls her eyes as she sees the amount of people crowded around the nurses' station, clearing her throat pointedly as she approaches for them all to get back to work.
"Fletch, I'm going to prep for my elective now. Is Dr Digby around?"
He nods, passing her a chart.
"She was here a minute ago. Your elective's all admitted but just to let you know his BP is slightly elevated."
She scans over the chart before passing it back to him.
"I remember him. It'll just be stress related. Check him again in fifteen minutes and if it's raised any more then get Dr Digby or Ms Wolfe to give him the once-over. If Ms Wolfe ever decides to show up, that is." She couldn't resist a little jibe.
"Will do," he nods, before pausing. "By the way, speaking of Ms Wolfe—" Serena frowns at him as he stops suddenly, looking behind her. "Never mind. Morning, Ms Wolfe."
She curses herself as her stomach drops and her heart skips a beat, knowing that she will now have to speak to her colleague. She turns around, takes in the sight of the woman she loves and her resolve falters, tears stinging at the back of her eyes. Love has always been her weakness, she knows. All rationality is thrown out the window as soon as her heart is involved. But this time she's trying so desperately to be different, to keep her distance.
It helps that Bernie can't seem to keep eye contact with her today.
"Good morning, Ms Wolfe," Serena says in her most official tone, usually reserved only for business acquaintances. She turns back around to the desk quickly, shuffling some papers and not even hearing Bernie's reply.
"Well — look at the time! That elective won't prep itself. Must dash!" She witters on, clutching her file with white knuckles to keep her nerve before shuffling past the baffled army medic and off to theatre.
::
The surgery is a gruelling one, lasting for a long five and a half hours and taking up every last ounce of energy she has for the day. By the time she's out and debriefing her team, Bernie Wolfe is the last thing on her mind.
That is until she sees Bernie across the ward, poring over a patient's file, her forehead creased in concentration and her fingers playing with a stray lock of hair behind her ear, and decides, for the first time, that she wants to hear what Bernie has to say, no matter how painful that may be.
"Bernie," she starts, making the other woman jump as she appears behind her. "Can we talk?"
Bernie tenses, quickly snapping shut the file and grasping it with both hands. "Sorry, I'm really busy," she rushes, already beginning to walk away.
"Look, Bernie, about the other night—"
"Just leave it, Serena."
She keeps her head down and her face hidden from Serena as she strides away. Tensing as she feels the eyes of the ward upon her, Serena bites back her tears and shuts herself in the office for the remainder of the shift.
::
I'm over her, I'm over her.
Serena repeats the words under her breath as she enters the lift the next morning, feeling herself tremble at just the thought of casting eyes on Berenice Wolfe. Oh, how she wishes she could forget, could just focus her mind on something else. But she really thought they were getting somewhere, before this. And she couldn't have been imagining all of it, could she? Bernie's enthusiasm, her charm, her care. Surely she wouldn't be so cold as to fake all that just to get in her knickers?
Part of her feels indignant at Bernie's behaviour. After all this time, the least she deserved was an explanation. All that has happened between them... it makes her stomach lurch. Could she really have been so blind?
She decides that perhaps she could. She's in love with her, and knows all too well just how that can alter a persons entire perception of the world around them. Perhaps she was wrong to trust her judgement.
Her day begins in surgery, thankfully, so she has little problem avoiding Ms Wolfe there. Then she is called up for a vascular consult on another ward and is tied up with that for a while after, working with the patient's consultant on the best way forward. After that she takes an early lunch, decides to go to a rather lovely sandwich bar just outside the grounds rather than running the risk of bumping into Bernie in Pulses.
As she sits tucking into her baguette, it crosses her mind how ridiculously slack her staff have been behaving over the past couple of days, and makes a vow to confront them on it upon her return. Communication breakdowns were the last thing she wanted, and with her and Bernie on questionable terms too, she needed to ensure that her team were at the top of their game. It worries her, though, how her and Bernie might work together after this. Would they ever be able to regain their professional spark after all that had happened?
Would Bernie even want to try?
Luckily the buzz of her pager brings her out of that spiral of thinking. She swallows the last of her baguette, hoping with all of her heart that this wasn't a big trauma call, where her and Bernie would be forced to work together. She's not ready to acknowledge their forsaken professional relationship just yet.
To her relief, by the time she arrives back the trauma patient is already in theatre, with Raf and Bernie taking the job. She settles on working her way through the new admissions and shipping out all who were fit to go.
Late in the afternoon, she is examining a rather nasty pressure ulcer when she spots Bernie return to the ward out of the corner of her eye. She fights to keep her focus on the wound, which she thinks will probably require surgery. Politely excusing herself from the patient, she makes to find Raf for a second opinion.
"Fletch, have you seen Raf around?" She interrupts his conversation with Morven and two other nurses, purposely avoiding looking at Bernie, who is filling in some paperwork on the other side of the desk behind them.
"Not recently. I think he's just finishing up in theatre," Fletch replies. She nods, turning away.
"Ms Campbell, did you know Ms Wolfe is a stripper?"
The ward is hit with silence. Serena stops dead in her tracks, hearing Morven's shockingly spiteful tone. She looks at Bernie, see her head bowed and her shoulders hunched, and suddenly it all makes sense. Someone from the hospital must have seen her at the club, that night, and she didn't want them to see Serena too. And now she was the talk of the hospital. Morven's tone, the way she spat out the word stripper, made Serena's skin crawl, thinking of the judgement, the bullying Bernie must be facing. And she had tried to protect her from it, was facing this all on her own.
In a split second, she decides not to accept that.
"I did know, yes, and I have to say she's rather a good one at that. I should know, I've seen her enough times." She offers them a satisfied smile, seeing the shock on their faces. "Ms Wolfe, could I get a second opinion on this infected pressure ulcer in bay three, please?"
Bernie looks up at her in shock, her mouth hanging open. "Um, yes. Yes, of course," she stammers, closing the file in front of her. Serena turns on her heels, making her way back toward the patient, Bernie racing after her.
"You didn't need to do that. Not that I don't appreciate the—"
"No," Serena interrupts, holding her hand up for her to stop. "I won't have you take all this petty gossiping on your own. We're in this together."
She doesn't wait for Bernie to reply, continuing to her patient, her heart racing at the thought of the repercussions of her words but without a single regret for defending the woman that she loves.
::
The next chance they get to talk isn't until near the end of the day. Serena returns from a consult on another ward to find Bernie growling to herself over her temperamental PC.
"You know, you could just ask maintenance for another one of those things," Serena suggests, sitting down at her own computer.
"No, it works. Eventually." She gives the console a slap. "There we go."
Serena chuckles fondly, then takes a breath. "Are you okay?"
Bernie tenses visibly. "Yes, of course. Why wouldn't I be?" Serena raises an eyebrow at her skeptically. Bernie sighs. "Honestly, Serena. It's fine. It'll all blow over soon enough. I've had people gossiping about me before, if you remember."
"Yes but this is a little different, wouldn't you say?"
"Of course. Last time it was something I was actually ashamed of," she replies, face deadpan. Serena frowns.
"Really."
"Yes. I haven't betrayed anyone, haven't split up my family. I won't let a bunch of stupid band fives bully me into feeling ashamed of what I do."
Serena purses her lips. "Is that who saw you?"
Bernie nods. "Yep. Few of the new trauma nurses were on a night out. By the time I'd clocked them they'd seen me."
Serena bites her lip, considering her words. "Did they… What did you…" She looks away. "Did you dance for them?"
Bernie stops abruptly, her fiery and determined gaze leaving her computer screen for the first time. "Would it be a problem if I did?" Serena opens her mouth to speak, but suddenly her throat is dry and no words come out. Bernie shakes her head, gritting her teeth.
"You're just like the rest of them, aren't you?"
Serena says nothing.
"You think that I'm essentially a prostitute. You think that my job amounts to something more than just…" She trails off, looking for the right words but unable to find them. Serena tries to speak, tries to deny her feelings, but she just can't seem to get the words out.
"B- Bernie—"
A knock at the door.
"Come in," Bernie calls, her features cold as she looks away from Serena and back to her computer. Morven pokes her head around the door nervously, before stepping inside and closing the door behind her.
"Sorry if I'm interrupting," she says gingerly, her hands clasped together with nerves.
"No, by all means." Bernie still doesn't look away from her computer. "Go ahead."
"Ms Wolfe, I wanted to apologise," she begins. Bernie stops, but still doesn't face her. "I shouldn't have been so… so…"
"Judgemental?" Bernie suggests.
"Yes," Morven agrees, nodding. "I just…" She looks down. "Don't you find it… degrading?"
Bernie takes a deep breath, her eyes remaining on her computer screen. "No, I don't," she says seriously, then her posture softens slightly. "Not that I would ever recommend it, either," she adds, with a heavy heart. Serena looks at her with slight surprise.
"Well, I," Morven continues, avoiding eye contact. "Whatever you do, that's your business. I still respect you as my superior and, I hope, friend." Bernie says nothing, but seems to relax a little. "I just thought you'd like to know, I heard some of the trauma team talking and they're planning on returning to the club to see you tonight."
Bernie runs a hand over her face, squeezing her eyes shut. "For god's sake." She finally looks at Morven, who currently resembles a deer in headlights. "Thank you, Morven, for your honesty. And your understanding."
Morven attempts a smile, her hand reaching for the doorknob and her escape. Bernie nods her dismissal and she scarpers, the tension in the room returning.
"Look, Bernie, I didn't mean—"
"Not now, Serena," Bernie interrupts, standing. She goes over to her coat, but before she can grab it she stops, groaning and covering her face with her hands. "What the fuck is wrong with these people?"
"Maybe you should take the night off," Serena offers. "I'm sure it would be—"
"No, Serena," Bernie cuts her off. "I said before, I'm not letting them make me feel ashamed of what I do. I'll deal with this."
"At least let me—"
"No," Bernie says firmly, her voice raised as she grabs her bag from her desk. "This is my problem, not yours. I have to deal with this by myself."
"But—"
And with that, she's gone.
Let me know if you enjoyed!
P.s. I know this chapter was kinda uneventful, but listen to the whole song then decide whether u wanna be hype for the next chapter or not ;)
