Bashir jogs through the halls of the hospital, expertly avoiding collisions with both patients and doctors. Doctors running around is a common sight, so nobody questions him, assuming he is rushing to save a patient. Finally, he spots his destination: the locker room.
The room is empty; thank goodness for small miracles. Bashir ignores the plush chairs beside the two rows of dull green lockers and chooses instead to settle on the floor, his back resting against a cold metal door. He draws his knees to his chest and lays his arms on them. With bated breath, he slowly opens his fists which had been clenched around his broken stethoscope. Scooting forward and leaning back on the lockers, Bashir rests the two stethoscope pieces atop his knees, the tubing connected to the earpiece trailing down his right knee. He stills after this and stares blankly at his knees, barely even blinking.
This is how Mags and Theo find him 30 minutes later, each having checked on their patients before booting it to the locker room. Theo enters first, peeking his head around the door in case Bashir was changing. At the lack of nakedness, Mags pushes past him and barges in. The worried doctors notice their friend sitting on the floor, seemingly asleep judging by his stillness. Upon closer inspection, Mags realises that Bashir's eyes are open and staring beyond his knees. She crouches down in front of him and tries to get his attention.
Bashir does not seem to notice her. He stares right through her, not reacting when she waves a hand in front of his eyes. Noticing this, Mags shoots a panicked glance at Theo who is crouching to his side. His eyes reflect her unease.
"Bash. Hey. Bashir," Theo tries. Once again, Bashir shows no reaction. Deciding to try a different approach, Theo motions for Mags to move back. She sends him an odd look but complies.
Hesitantly, Theo lays a hand on Bashir's shoulder, which elicits an immediate reaction. Bashir stiffens under Theo's hand and lashes out, frantically trying to escape the unknown danger. His broken stethoscope falls to the floor, which Mags places on a chair.
"Whoa! Hey, buddy, we've got you," Theo tries to soothe his friend. Paying no heed to Theo's soothing words, Bashir continues to thrash against the older man's hold, sharp gasps escaping his parted lips.
Theo slips behind Bashir and tangles their lower limbs, effectively pinning Bashir's legs down. He catches Bashir's flailing arms and hugs the younger man tightly, which forces Bashir's arms to still. He says nothing and rests his chin on Bashir's tense shoulder.
Bashir slumps against Theo, completely exhausted. He clenches his eyes shut and wills his tears away, but to no avail. They seep under his eyelids and trail down his face, which twists in his anguish. He refuses to open his mouth, knowing that he will be unable to stop his grief from overwhelming him.
His eyes snap open when a gentle set of hands wipe the tears from his cheeks. The compassion in Mags's eyes unravels Bashir further and a broken keen escapes him. He suppresses it the best he can, which results in an odd choking noise.
"Hey, none of that," Theo chides. Suddenly, strong arms are under Bashir's legs, relocating them to straddle Theo's waist. A firm hand to the back of his head brings his face down to rest on Theo's shoulder.
Bashir can no longer control himself, and the dam breaks. Sobs wrack his frame and tears immediately soak the cloth under his face. His father's face appears behind his eyelids, making him cry harder. He can barely breathe.
Mags sits next to Bashir, and he turns his head to meet her watery eyes. She runs her fingers through his hair, gently shushing him when he tries to apologize. Theo's gentle hand rubs his back.
After an eternity, Bashir's cries slow and stop. He wearily lays his head on Theo's shoulder, letting out a shuddering sigh. Quiet voices talk above his head, but he is too exhausted to care. The fingers in his hair disappear, and he has to stop himself from whining at the loss of contact. Theo notices, though, and simply squeezes him tighter. Moments later, a damp paper towel cleans the mess off his face. He opens his eyes and slurs out his thanks.
Mags resumes stroking his hair, smiling when he leans into her touch with a sound of contentment. Her smile softens as Bashir's eyelids droop closed and he nods off in Theo's arms, only to jerk awake.
"Go to sleep, Bashir, we've got you," she croons. Bashir obeys her and lets his eyes flutter shut, where they will stay for a few hours.
Theo and Mags watch their friend's face smooth out as he falls deeper into sleep's hold. His body relaxes entirely, and his breaths come out slow and even. Mags presses a kiss to his brow, freezing when he twitches. He settles down, and she sighs in relief.
"Let's take him to Dr. Bishop's office," Theo states. He awkwardly struggles to his feet with the young doctor in his arms. Mags bites her cheek to stop from grinning when Theo has to shuffle around.
He shoots her a playful glare. "You wanna try? Though he is lighter than he should be…" he comments with a frown.
Mags grabs Bashir's stethoscope and follows Theo out of the locker room. They must make an odd pair: a dark-haired doctor carrying a man almost his own size and a light-haired doctor carrying a broken stethoscope with reverence.
The duo arrives at Dr. Bishop's office and Mags knocks lightly on the door. She prays that Dr. Bishop is in.
Upon hearing the knock on his door, Dr. Bishop heaves himself out of his chair to answer it, taking off his glasses and laying them down on his desk. He expects a doctor, perhaps, or maybe a nurse. What he doesn't expect is Theo carrying a sleeping Bashir with Mags beside him holding Bashir's stethoscope.
The senior doctor cocks his eyebrow at them, but steps back and ushers them in. "I'm assuming you'd like to use my couch," he drawls quietly. As the younger doctors place their friend on the couch, Dr. Bishop reaches under his desk to grab a blanket that he most certainly does not use when he wants to catch some shut eye.
Magalie kisses Bashir's forehead, then stands back as Dr. Bishop approaches with the blanket. He lightly tosses it over the slumbering doctor and gently secures it. Mags and Theo smirk at each other when Dr. Bishop runs his hand through Bashir's hair with a tender expression.
Sighing, he stands and moves back to his desk, gesturing for the two doctors to take a seat. All compassion slips off his face, leaving only a stoic professionalism. "How bad was it?"