Thank you to all my reviewers for the last update, it is so lovely to know this fic is building up a following and your support is much appreciated. I'm hoping you are enjoying reading this as much as I am enjoying writing it.

Here is chapter 7. Enjoy.

To look out for you

The definition of disconnected

Disconnected: adjective; having had a connection broken, no longer connected

Sam Nicholls

Sam exited the cubicle and checked out her reflection in the mirror of the ladies toilets with a degree of disheartenment. She already knew that she was beyond exhausted, the last few days finally beginning to take their toll on her, but the dark circles under her eyes and pale complexion definitely proved that she was no longer doing a very good job at hiding her lack of sleep from the rest of the world. She had calculated that it had now been around a hundred hours since she had been assaulted and she reckoned that she had slept for no longer than ten per cent of that time, a situation she knew was untenable in the long term.

Sam reflected that this wasn't through the lack of trying, because as soon as she had gotten in from work the past few days she had gone straight to bed, mainly because her clothes still felt harsh against her battered skin and it was only when she lay down on her soft mattress that her muscles stopped aching enough for her to breathe freely. She just knew that every time she closed her eyes and let the darkness start to close in around her, her mind was filled with images of her beating and the sound of her bones crunching underneath the hail of blows she had received. The previous night she swore she must have woken up at least five times dripping in sweat and close to having a full blown panic attack and in the end she had decided it was easier not to even turn out the lights anymore so at least when she came round she could see there was no immediate danger.

However Sam knew that it wasn't just a lack of sleep that was tiring her out, but the added complication of actually having to deal with patients and their relatives as a standard part of her job, despite her attack still being so fresh in her memory. She had always prided herself on being fearless, but in the past few days she had become aware of quite how jumpy she now was around the public. She had spent half of this shift in cubicles and every time she had found herself alone with someone in a bay she felt her hackles rise and the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. Mr Jordan had checked up on her a few times and each time she had reassured him that she was fine, which she had known it must have been blatantly apparent was not the case but even despite their recent closeness she wasn't quite ready to own up to the fact that she had been freaked out by both a gobby ten year old and an elderly man with slightly wondering hands.

Sam yanked her hair out of its scraggy pony tail and started to pull it back together in a much tidier style. The end of her shift had not come fast enough for her today; in fact she had been counting down the hours almost from the moment she had arrived that morning. However for the first time in months she was not rushing off home to an empty flat, because initially against her better judgement she had agreed to Tom's request for her to join him and some of their colleagues in the pub for a drink. He had been nagging her to come out with them for months now, but she had always dismissed his idea as laughable given how little she enjoyed socialising with anyone, not least her colleagues. Yet somehow when Tom had asked her that morning, Sam had readily agreed, considering the opportunity to have a few drinks and a laugh away from the confines of the four walls of her flat a much better idea that her usual evening entertainment of mindless television and medical text books.

Zoe had expressed anxiety that she would be drinking on top of her painkillers almost before Sam had even agreed to go out with their colleagues, but she had dismissed her concerns just as quickly as they had been expressed. The truth of the matter was Sam had ceased taking the painkillers Dr Hanna had prescribed the day after her assault and therefore there was no reason a little alcohol would be any cause for concern. She had never been the type of person to take medication unnecessarily, nor to shy away from a bit of discomfort, but she had been forced to admit to herself that if a patient presented to her in her current condition she would have all but ordered them to continue taking the painkillers for at least another two weeks. However Sam had never been good at following orders, which she knew was ironic given her army career, and in spite of the harsh reality of her aching muscles and cracked bones, she actually found the physical pain a soothing distraction from her hellish nightmares and current status as an emotional wreck. She had never been good at dealing with that kind of feeling.

Sam recalled the moment Jeff had given her arm a reassuring squeeze as he left her with a patient and whispered in her ear that him and Dixie were looking forward to buying her a drink in the bar later, before telling her that he hoped she had a good shift. If she hadn't already been slightly looking forward to the night out, the fact that the two paramedics would be in attendance more than would have made up for that. Sam already considered them to be her favourite people to be around in the wider E.D. team and she could only begin to imagine how much of a comedy double act they would make when they had a few drinks inside of them.

However Sam hadn't needed any encouragement to look forward to the night out, as the fact that Tom was organising things had already convinced her she would have a good time. He didn't strike her as that much of a drinker, but in her opinion he seemed like the type to enjoy himself away from his working environment. In the past few days Tom had been nothing but supportive and definitely had her back, in a similar fashion to how she had always gotten on with her army comrades. It had quite surprised her but she was truly enjoying having a friend, someone who was simply just there for her with no complications and didn't want anything particular back in return. With the exception of Dylan, and even then it had been minimal, she couldn't really recall doing the "friends" thing very much in the past few years, yet in the past week alone she had opened up to Mr Jordan and agreed to drinks with Dr Kent. She wasn't exactly sure of herself enough anymore to know whether this was a direct result of her attack, her impending departure to Afghanistan or something else entirely, but she knew there was a reassuring edge to having a couple of people more than normal in her corner.

Sam finished scraping her messy hair back into a more sophisticated style, which she almost felt a sense of pride in achieving given that she was trying to fix it up in the staff toilets with nothing other than her bare hands and one hair bobble. She debated briefly whether to make a real effort and sort her make up too, suddenly feeling unsure as to the dress code for staff drinks, before deciding that at minimum some concealer and foundation to make herself look a bit more alive wouldn't go a miss.

Sam wondered why this kind of thing seemed to come easy to the Linda's and Zoe's of this world, as she guessed they probably never had to think about the make-up and hair requirements of a local pub. Although she was reasonably certain that her ex-husband had never been particularly bothered by her low-maintenance take on appearances, a part of her couldn't help but speculate as to what his thoughts were on Zoe's slightly more high-maintenance approach to life. The first rumour of the day around the department had been that Dr Hanna would not be joining them for drinks as she usually did because she had a dinner date with Dr Keogh, a rumour that she was sure Tom and Nick had been trying to shield her from all day. She considered that they needn't have worried, because although it still stung deeply that Dylan had moved on, that day it just gave her another reason to go out and get drunk. Alcoholic beverages had understandably been a taboo subject for the majority of her marriage, but given the inevitability of their separation she saw little point in abstaining any further. Nonetheless the thought of wine drinker Zoe and tee-total Dylan trying to have a civilised meal together just didn't feel right in her head.

Sam thought back to earlier in the shift when she had been coerced into working with her husband for the first time all week. Mr Jordan had been brilliant to her for the last few days and had kept isolated from Dr Keogh for the sake of everyone's sanity, but that morning it had appeared their Clinical Lead had not been in a great mood and he had insisted she work alongside Dylan in resus for a while whilst he had a meeting with Zoe. The second rumour of the day around the department was that Mr Jordan and Dr Hanna were no longer on speaking terms as a result of their confrontation, but whilst Sam hated seeing her boss so wrung out over something he had made it incredibly clear to her that he did not feel like discussing the argument with anyone.

Sam had found working with Dylan weirdly awkward at first, given that due to him actively avoiding her she had barely even seen him since he had carried her into resus several days ago. However they had exchanged formal pleasantries and her husband had requested an update on her injuries, before they descended into a strangely comfortable silence. They had never been a couple that had relied on words and conversations, so part of her had felt a sense of normality had been restored simply by the fact that they were working in each other's presence.

An unconscious man had been brought into them following a mugging with severe head injuries and defensive wounds to his upper body. Dylan had immediately picked up on his breathlessness and started a chest drain, but it hadn't been until Sam had been wordlessly passing him the various pieces of equipment he required before he even requested them whilst she also focused on treating a very deep wound to the man's arm that she had realised quite how much she missed the good old days of being part of Dr Keogh's team. She knew they had always been able to communicate silently, but that was a skill she thought they had long since lost given the complex status of their personal relationship.

Sam recalled that particular patient waking up highly disorientated and lashing out in her direction in fright. His sudden violent movement had completely thrown her and she had jolted backwards, out of the man's reach and straight into Dylan's protective arms. For the briefest of moments their eyes had met and she felt an intense wave of emotion travel through her, almost akin to an electric shock in strength and she had found herself leaning in towards him for safety.

She remembered that almost as quickly as she had allowed herself to melt into him, she had reassured him that she was fine and then felt a sense of cold disappointment at the loss of contact as he released her from his grasp. If nothing else that short-lived flash of connection had only highlighted to her exactly how disconnected from her husband she had truly become over the past few weeks and it was that very thought that caused her make a decision about what she needed to do, causing her to run to the staffroom to make a phone call.

Sam checked out her reflection again and decided she looked vaguely presentable at best, but that she would have to do. She had just about managed to cover the black circles and added a touch of lip gloss to at least give herself the air of someone about to enjoy herself that night. She grabbed her bag from underneath the sink and made her way back to the staffroom where she found Tom waiting for her.

"I thought you might have chickened out of me you took so long," he said as she entered the room to which she rolled her eyes at him and grabbed her coat from the chair.

"I said I'd come didn't I?" she responded. "Thanks for waiting though," she added, almost as an afterthought.

"Would have even known where you were going if I hadn't?" came Tom's reply and Sam shook her head vigorously, knowing that the drinking establishments of Holby were far from her specialist subject. "Come on, the others have gone on ahead to get the drinks in so let's get out of here."

Sam followed Tom out of the staffroom door and as they left in step with each other, he made an innuendo laden comment about showing her a good time that night, but started laughing before she could berate him for being inappropriate. His laughter was infectious nevertheless so as they walked out into the car park she found herself having a fit of the giggles and she slapped his arm playfully in rebuke. Sam couldn't remember the last time she had really laughed, but given how disconnected she had felt from the only person she had ever cared about for some time now, the fact that she now appeared to have a connection with Tom brought a smile to her face like nothing else had recently.

Dylan Keogh

Dylan watched Dr Nicholls enter the staffroom and start chatting to her male colleague with a sense of resentment at how happy and bright she appeared to be. He considered that it wasn't as if he wanted her to be miserable, but this week had been incredibly long and tiring to the point he felt completely shattered. He couldn't understand how his wife could possibly be in the mood for a date with Dr Kent that evening, but that did indeed appear to be the case. He was not so self-absorbed that he didn't realise Samantha had every right to have moved on, but it felt strange to him that unlike before it hadn't been him she had turned to for comfort and support.

Dylan also considered that he had tried really hard to look out for her these past few days, which he had assumed she would have noticed given how they had always clumsily taken care of each other in the past. However he was pretty certain that Dr Nicholls had been completely oblivious to his concerted efforts to keep her safe from further harm. It meant that she would probably never know he had been siphoning off patients who had appeared challenging or difficult on their arrival, despite hating having to deal with disruptive or argumentative people himself. It had been the only preventative measure he had been able to deduce would reduce the likelihood of her having to deal with confrontational or stroppy individuals, because he had not been able to shake the feeling that she was not as alright as she had insinuated to the entire department.

He had to admit though that he had felt a great deal of satisfaction at channelling these identified troublesome patients to Dr Lyons and Dr Kent when they irritated him too much and he was self-aware enough to know he had deliberately directed the most challenging towards Dr Kent purely to ease his urge to throttle the younger doctor who had made moves on his wife. Dylan could not see what it was about this man specifically that interested Samantha, but the fact that Dr Kent was younger, fitter and more outgoing than him peaked his grouchiness and had caused him to take out his frustration on Dr Kent on more than one occasion already that week.

Dylan had begun to feel that on every occasion he had entered an area of the department he had found Dr's Kent and Nicholls whispering in corners and despite him not having heard any official announcement of their relationship, it had become apparent to him that there was no doubting the two of them now shared a connection. Dylan knew that Dr Kent was nowhere near good enough for his Samantha, but he could see that she always smiled when in his company and given that he himself knew her well enough to know how difficult she found personal relationships, he was well aware how much it must have meant to her to be so close to someone once again.

He recalled all of the times that day that he had misdirected his grumpy attitude out on a colleague or a patient, when it was really his wife that he wanted to have it out with, but despite having been aware of this he hadn't been able to stop sulking for long enough to rationally think through his behaviour. In fact the main thought that had circulated through his mind for the entire shift that day was how much he wished he could have been the one to be holding Samantha when she let her guard down enough to need comforting, despite knowing that this was no longer his right or responsibility.

His mood had been worsened by the fact that not only were the majority of his colleagues actively avoiding him, something he would usually have been grateful for but today was just an annoyance, but that Zoe had also appeared distant from him and had been unwilling to have any meaningful conversation with him. She had made some cryptic remark relating to needing to talk to him that night over dinner, which he had seen had elicited some raised eyebrows from some of the nurses in the vicinity but she had refused to be drawn further on the subject much to his annoyance. Things had been tense between them over the previous few days and Zoe had expressed her displeasure at his reluctance to talk things through with Dr Nicholls following her attack, but he had thought that situation had already been resolved. He had never been comfortable with the idea of talking things through with anyone so whilst he had initially been looking forward to his meal with Dr Hanna this latest turn of events had left him ill at ease, especially as he knew that whilst he was being forced into a serious conversation his wife would be out enjoying herself with Dr Kent.

Dylan remembered the moment earlier that shift when he had first been confronted with the concept of working with Samantha once again, after Mr Jordan had for some unfathomable reason tasked him to keep an eye on both her and resus and they had been left alone to process new critical patients arriving in the department. It had been a testament to how awkward he had felt upon seeing her that it had been he who had made the small talk of formal pleasantries and asking her how she was, which given how little he liked to initiate discussion had felt inherently strange. Conversely Dr Nicholls had been incredibly quiet and barely responded to any of his simple questions, which had worried him slightly as he knew how keen she was on rising to any pointed remarks he threw in her direction on any usual day.

However despite the apparent oddness of the situation they had worked very successfully together in silence and he had been reminded of the days where he had first mentored her and upon becoming irked by her constant inquisitorial discourse had informed her than meaningless chit-chat displeased him greatly. Over the subsequent weeks he recalled that she had learned to work wordlessly alongside him, picking up non-verbal clues as to his requirements of her until their close team work had become instinctive to them both.

He had been jolted out of these happy memories by one particular patient lashing out in their direction which had sent Samantha stumbling backwards in alarm. He had automatically reached out to rescue her and upon dragging her into his arms had seen a fleeting look of abject fear cross her eyes before he felt an overwhelming sense of calm descend over him at being so physically close to her presence. Her reassurance that she was fine and obvious desperation to be out of his grip had hit him like a shock and he had quickly released her from his grasp, a feeling of sadness creeping across him as he watched her recover and then leave resus as soon as she was able.

Dylan now watched as Samantha and Dr Kent exited the staffroom together and began to head out of the department. He hadn't seen her properly since that moment in resus until now and from his study of her appearance he could tell she had fixed up her hair differently to normal, something he knew from experience she never did unless it was for an important event. In any case, she had certainly never sorted her hair so prettily for dinner or a night out with him, not that they had spent much time dating prior to getting married. Moreover as he followed their departure from a discrete distance he could see that she was smiling and watched with dismay as both his wife and Dr Kent descended into fits of giggles and she slapped his arm playfully, in a way Dylan remembered Samantha had done with him at the end of their first shift together in Holby many months previously.

As he stood in the doorway of the E.D. he caught sight of Zoe who was leaning against the wall just outside the department, cigarette in hand and reticent look upon her face. The two of them stood there in an uncomfortable silence and watched their two colleague doctors stroll across the car park, so close he swore their arms must have been touching the entire time. Dylan reflected that he had always known he would one day lose Samantha, but he hadn't thought it would feel like this nor that it would occur right in front of his eyes, where he could see how happy she was without him. Despite the fact that they were long since separated, today it felt to him like their once strong connection had been completely severed, a connection that had seemed so evident to him only hours earlier in resus. That truth alone hurt Dylan more than he would ever care to admit.

Thank you so much for reading as always and I look forward to hearing your comments as ever.

I'm hoping the next chapter will be up on Saturday. Callie x