Summary:
It's a typical day for Bernie and Serena at the AAU. Until it isn't. || PTSD Warning
They're in the office when it happens. Bernie is sitting on the edge of her desk, Serena on the edge of her own. They pass a folder back and forth as they debate the best course of treatment for a patient who's just been admitted. Bernie lobbies for an exploratory laparotomy. Serena vies for a less invasive procedure, an ultrasound if possible.
The shades are open and the door is cracked. Nurses and bands of F1s shuffled about the ward as they tend to their charges, all combined together in a sea of different shades of blue. Jason passes by pushing an older gentleman in a wheelchair; he nods to his aunt Serena, who's too busy to take note of her nephew's gesture.
Serena shakes her head as she turns down another idea from Bernie. The lights on the ward flicker briefly, though no one thinks much of it. They've been a bit odd all week. Mr. Hanssen has already called in for a maintenance check.
Bernie is just about to push for the surgery once again when she leaves her body momentarily. A thunderous crack sends her flying towards Serena, practically tackling her to the ground. Bernie's arm covers the woman's head protectively, as if acting as a human helmet. She doesn't even notice that she's scraped her elbow against the metal leg of the desk.
Raf sticks his head through the door and his gaze falls to the doctors. "Are you two all—" When Serena shoots him a hard glare, he backs away slowly and closes the door behind him.
"Bernie?" Serena murmurs. Cautiously, she reaches for Bernie's hand. She notices the line of blood trickling down her wrist and gingerly touches Bernie's knee. "Bernie?" she tries again.
The ringing in Bernie's ears begins to fade, just as her vision clears once again. Soon, she sees Serena sitting upright and staring back at her with worried eyes. She looks down at the small wound and shakes her head. Bernie scrambles onto her feet, and Serena is right there beside her.
"I'm- I'm sorry," Bernie whispers, utterly mortified.
Her eyes still locked on Bernie, Serena reaches for her desk and snatches several tissues to cover Bernie's cut. "Sit," she orders softly.
"No, it's alright. I'm fine," Bernie dismisses, unable to meet Serena's gaze.
"Bernie," Serena says firmly. "Sit." Without any further protest, Bernie does as she's told.
From the window, Serena sees Raf watching at the station. She gestures for him to come back, and when he returns, she asks for iodine and bandages. He simply nods before stepping to it.
"Are you hurt?" Bernie finally chokes out. "Did I…?"
Still applying pressure to the bleeding, Serena peers over at the former army medic. "I'm not hurt," she assures. "You, on the other hand." There's a knock at the door. It's Raf. He's brought a bottle of disinfectant, gauze, tape, and several different sizes of bandages. Just to be safe. "Thanks," Serena acknowledges before he leaves them alone once again. Bernie doesn't even so much as wince as Serena cleans her arm. It's almost as if she's gone numb. "I suppose a laparotomy would be more efficient on our end. Ultrasounds aren't always conclusive."
Closing her eyes, Bernie clears her throat. "They are far less invasive, though," she sighs.
"True," Serena offers. "But what would you rather do if you were the patient? Have a procedure that could potentially tell us everything we need to know, even if it does hurt a bit, or waste time in an effort to save them the pain?" When the cut is cleaned and covered, Serena smoothes the bandage over Bernie's arm. "Right. You're all set here." As Serena disposes of the trash and cleans their make-shift station, she notices the maintenance crew having finally arrived on the ward. She nods towards the station and says, "It would seem that this hospital's aging faster than we are. One of the fixtures collapsed."
Bernie sits silently, ashamed and embarrassed. It's been months since her last episode. She hadn't told Serena. She didn't think she'd need to. Now, however, her secret was out.
"Sudden noises," Bernie finally says. "They, erm, seem to be a trigger." Serena nods to show she's listening. "It's ridiculous, really. I was hardly active duty."
"Saving lives… that's quite active, if you ask me."
Bernie shrugs. "Comes with the job."
Serena sats across from Bernie on the woman's desk. She wants to reach out again, to hold Bernie's hand, but she doesn't want to frighten her. "You may not have had a gun in your hands, but you fought nonetheless." When Bernie tries to give a grateful smile, Serena says, "Look. Why don't I book a theater for Mr. Johnson. Let's see what we're dealing with and then take it from there, all right?"
Bernie nods. "All right." As she stands up, she pauses in front of Serena, her heart pounding in her chest. "Serena, I'm—"
But Serena cuts her off. With the most tender of touches, she cradles the sides of Bernie's face and places a gentle kiss right above her fringe. Their foreheads rest against one another, and in that moment, Bernie feels lighter. She feels safe.