Sorry this has been so long! Busy busy busy. Thank you for all your wonderful feedback on the last chapter, it really does make my day!

A lot of the details in this surrounding Serena's life are canon divergent, but hell so is the whole fic so I decided I'd rather bend canon than have the song in the wrong year (because I just had to use this song)

Enjoy!

Missing Track: She's The One - Robbie Williams

"You need to tell me why you left."

Her eyes fell to the floor for a moment, her fingers knotting together. She coughed.

"There's no excuse for what I did, I know, and I'm sorry—"

"I don't want to hear it, Bernie," I cut in. "I just want to know what happened. Or had it been the plan all along? Seduce me, then leave me forever?"

"No," she murmured, her voice thickening. "No, Serena, of course not. I loved you so much, it near killed me to have to leave you like that."

"So why, Bernie?"

She sighed, holding my gaze for a few moments before dropping her shoulders resignedly and stepping over to the bench at the other side of the table she was leant against, sitting down heavily. She looked up at me expectantly, silently inviting me to join her, but I stayed standing, my arms folded protectively across my chest.

"You'll think I'm a coward," Bernie murmured, her hands folding in her lap and her eyes downcast. I shook my head.

"I'll think you're a coward if you don't tell me," I replied stonily. Her gazed flickered up to me momentarily, and I raised my eyebrows expectantly.

She took a deep breath, ran a hand through her curls, and finally began to explain.

::

You know, when we parted, that final time, I was so upset that I couldn't go home for another hour or so, until I'd calmed down. I sat in the park, for a while, on the swings, just gazing blankly into the air. I remember thinking, then, that I was being absolutely ridiculous; I was going to speak to you the next day, or even that night if I had managed to get settled in quick enough. But I think I knew, deep down. I could feel the guilt, creeping into my stomach. I think I knew, somehow, that I had overstepped the line.

When I finally arrived home, my mother was very quiet with me. I put it down to being home so late; we were to leave in less than an hour. I had packed all my things the previous day, though, so didn't think it was that big a deal. Then I saw my father and he, too, was very solemn, and I knew that I had been caught out for something, that I had done something wrong. They weren't very emotional people, you'll remember, so I knew absolutely that their bad moods weren't because they were going to miss me, or anything along those lines. I remember the drop in my stomach as I realised, the sickening twist as it crossed my mind that they knew about you and I, but I somehow convinced myself that they couldn't know about us and that it was something else I had done, maybe the heavy drinking or that they had discovered that I wasn't staying at yours all this time, just out partying all night.

I was just beginning to wonder whether they would actually bring it up, whatever it was they were angry about. It was about two hours into the car journey, and they had both been absolutely silent for the duration. I was just beginning to relax with some reading…

"Berenice. Put the book away, for a moment, please," my mother spoke from the passenger seat. She didn't sound angry in a way that I had ever known before; her voice was entirely calm and vacant. I saw my father's hands tighten on the steering wheel, and I knew I was in trouble.

"Look, I won't mince words here, Bernie. We saw you with Serena McKinnie. This morning."

I froze, my heart in my throat. "What?"

"Don't play dumb, Berenice," my mother spat, her teeth clenched. "We saw you kissing her, on the lips. In full view of the road, for crying out loud!" She rose her voice incredulously.

"I…" I didn't know what to say, what to think. I could hardly breathe. "I… It's not what you think—"

"Please, Bernie," my father said, shaking his head. "Please, don't take us for fools. You know what you've done, and now you need to face the consequences of your actions like a grown up."

"I… I don't understand."

"Well, you know full well that homosexuality is against military law."

I froze. Everything that I had ever worked for, everything that I had ever wanted for my whole life… I couldn't believe that I had been so reckless.

"What— What are you going to do?"

"You know what my job title is, Bernie," my father gritted his teeth, his breath coming in harsh bursts. "I could get in just as much trouble for not reporting this as you would for your… issues. Nobody wants anything to do with that, nobody at all. It's a disease. It's disgusting."

"It's an abomination," my mother chipped in, her voice thick. She sniffed quickly. "If anyone found out…"

"Yes, if anyone found out…" My father shook his head. "You do realise that we would have no choice but to turn our backs on you? How would you expect us to live, with everyone knowing what you'd done?"

I couldn't speak. I was absolutely paralysed by fear.

"So," my father continued. "I'm going to do you a deal. I won't report you, this time. But if I find out this has ever happened again, I will do. I make you a firm promise there."

I nodded.

"And you're to go to the doctor every week. Your mother called just before you got home; there's a very good one just around the corner from your university. He'll help you. And you're to have no more contact with Serena McKinnie. If I find out you've had so much as a phone call, I will have no hesitation in cutting you off. I won't have this kind of thing in my family. Ever. Do you understand?"

What else could I do? I wanted to tell him to stick it, I really did, but I was just so scared. All my life, all I'd ever wanted to do was to join the military, you know that. And the prospect of losing not only that, but my family too, no matter how bigoted they were… So I agreed, though it absolutely crushed me to do so. I didn't see how I had any other choice.

I was alright, for a couple of weeks. I managed to put it out of my mind, with meeting new people and everything, all the nights out and the busy schedule. But then, as things quietened down a bit and I had more time to myself, I couldn't keep my mind away from it. I felt so angry, so frustrated at myself for not having the strength to stand against them. And all I could think of, every free thought was of you. It was driving me insane, and that bloody therapy didn't help much either. So I started going out more, pretty much every night, and staying in bed all day. I missed almost all of my lectures and seminars, and couldn't concentrate in the ones I did attend. I cried every moment that I was alone, though I couldn't tell anyone that. We ended up getting our dorms renovated, funnily enough, because I always blamed my running nose and puffy eyes on a mould allergy! Looking back now, I can see I was very depressed, but what help could I get? I couldn't tell anyone what it was that was troubling me, of course, and going on antidepressants wouldn't have gone down well with my family or my military career.

So I kept going as I was, wasting myself away, until it got to first year exams. I failed every single one. I was hauled in front of the dean, ready to be thrown out. Part of me thinks that was the point all along, really. If I was thrown out, had been told I was simply not cut out for the military, I would have an excuse to go back and find you again, to say 'fuck you' to my parents and run away and live the life I wanted to lead. But my father had a lot of influence, being a commander, and he got me a second chance. I had to resit my entire first year, since I had missed the majority of the material, and… that's when I met Marcus. And I fell in love with him. He made me laugh, made me blush, made me feel a bit more of myself again. My parents were happy, I stopped the therapy, and everything started to fall into place. I had a family, a home, and my military career allowed me to have just the right amount of distance that it wasn't apparent that I wasn't being entirely true to myself. Until Alex came along, of course.

::

"So there you have it," she finished, squeezing her hands between her thighs, her legs bouncing slightly. "My life in fifteen minutes."

I couldn't speak. I wouldn't quite say I was speechless, but I… What could I say? I felt terrible for her, for what she had had to go through. I had to suffer a broken heart, yes, but I don't know if I would have managed to survive the homophobia on top of that. I wanted to comfort her, but couldn't help the feeling that it was too late. What was done was done, and now… what?

"I know I should have been stronger," she apologised, her head bowed. "I just… I couldn't bear the thought of losing everything, my family, my career. But even now… sometimes I feel like I sacrificed the wrong thing." She looked up at me, her eyes wide and vulnerable.

She meant me. She meant that she wished she hadn't sacrificed me, all those years ago. Her entire life… What would have happened, had she done so? Would I have forgiven her, for leaving me without a word? Would we have rode off into the sunset, only to fall apart weeks later? I couldn't help but wonder. Were we meant to be, or was it purely circumstance that kept throwing us together, as it had been with her and Alex?

"Say something," she murmured, and I froze. I didn't know what to say, what to think. I couldn't process what had been said, couldn't decide how it had made me feel.

I cleared my throat. "I'm sorry you had to go through all of that," I replied clinically, after a pause. "I can't imagine having… having to deal with all of that ill-feeling."

She barked out half a laugh. "You don't know the half," she muttered. I sighed.

"It's a mess, isn't it." She looked up at me and I allowed tears to fill my eyes. None would spill, however. "I need time to think," I announced, pulling my arms tighter around myself.

"I understand," she whispered, playing with her fingernails. "But believe I mean it wholeheartedly when I say… leaving you is one of my biggest regrets, and it has never left my mind or my conscience, not truly." She held my gaze for a moment. I coughed.

"Still wasn't enough to make you get in touch, though, was it?" I snapped, a little too hastily. She looked wounded. "I'm sorry," I breathed, shifting from one foot to the other. "Just… give me time?" I said it on a questioning intonation, but it wasn't a question, really. Not of her, at least. I didn't know what I needed, couldn't tell my gut instinct from a tweak of indigestion. I felt my breaths become more shallow, and knew I needed to leave.

"I'm sorry," I murmured again, my chest becoming tight. "I… I need to think."

Before she had time to argue, I had rushed away, back to my car and away from the hospital.

::

Arriving home that evening, I had never been more glad to find that Jason was not yet home. He had gone to Celia's house for supper, so wouldn't be back for another hour or so. I sat at the kitchen table, my hands clasped together, forehead creased, brain whirring so fast that I couldn't quite work out what it was that I was thinking. I decided to settle it down with a large glass of Shiraz.

After thirty-three years, finally I had learnt just what it was that had kept her away. And now? I felt slightly numb, if truth be told, as though I were outside of my own emotions. I know that I should have felt some kind of relief, really; it hadn't been anything that I had done, after all. But all I was left with was… unrest?

My heart hammered in my chest. Adrenaline. Fight or flight. Fight for her, or run from her? Was that what my brain was telling me to do? I couldn't tell through the whirring of thoughts, visions of her in a dank therapy room, having it drilled into her that she was defective and disgusting, of her alone, having no one to turn to, sobbing until she was blue in the face. That was not the Bernie Wolfe that I knew, or had ever known. She must have been in agony.

I knew that I should be glad that she had found Marcus, eventually, and found happiness with him, but I couldn't help but feel slight resentment there. She had moved on from me, as I had her; where was the problem with that? But all my mind could scream was it should have been me.

And still, though she had finally been honest, and told me exactly what I had asked of her, I couldn't quite tell if I was ready to trust her. The day had been a rollercoaster, going from nerves and excitement about our date to devastation at the thought of losing her once more. Again, my mind listed all the people in her life, supposed loved ones that she had run from. How could I ever be sure, be absolutely certain that my heart was safe with her? Could we ever reconcile, with that doubt always lingering in the back of my mind? Was it fair on either of us that way?

But then there was the flip side: all these months I had spent resenting her, hating her, punishing her - did I really deserve her forgiveness for that? I had been horrible and self absorbed, I knew. Holding a grudge for over thirty years… it's not the best display of character really, is it? And after all she had been through…

My head snapped up at the sound of Jason's key in the door, and I quickly wiped beneath my eyes, standing to greet him, though my mind still buzzed on. I didn't sleep at all that night, tossing and turning and willing my head to just shut up for goodness sake. But I just didn't feel right. How could I possibly be at ease, whilst we were on such bad terms? It just isn't how things are supposed to be.

I froze mid-turn. It isn't how things are supposed to be. I am not who I want to be, without her. No matter in what capacity, something just… didn't feel natural, us being apart. I had both received and given the cold shoulder with Edward, whilst we were married, more times that I could care to remember, but it never felt like this. I didn't care, truth be told. We had never been the most suited of couples, I'll be the first to admit. But…

I shook myself, looking at the clock on the nightstand. 3:22am. Too late to be running over these things rationally in my mind. That was another thing that bothered me, about Bernie: what if this were all simply heightened emotion, and as soon as we were to reconcile I would discover that she wasn't what I really wanted, that I was simply longing for days gone, and had no real feelings for her now at all? How could I ever be sure?

How could anyone ever be sure?

It was the following afternoon - Saturday afternoon - listening to the radio in the kitchen, that I made a decision.

I was her she was me

We were one we were free,

And if there's somebody calling me on

She's the one

Upon hearing those words, thoughts of Berenice Wolfe still whirring around my head almost dizzyingly, I remembered… my wedding day.

::Holby, 1999::

I had woken up with an awful feeling of dread, the morning Edward and I were due to be married. Not that I hadn't felt that in the lead up to the wedding at all, when I was at home alone with a young Elinor, knowing that he was playing away with some other woman but somehow not being able to find it in me to call it off. We had a child; I needed to be responsible for my daughter, to give her a stable home. And of course, there was my mother's disapproval at having a child out of wedlock.

"Serena, get up for heaven's sake! We're going to be late!"

I groaned quietly at the knock on the door, before calling that I would be out in five minutes. Two passed, before Elinor landed on my chest.

"Wake up mummy! You need to put on your dress!"

I smiled despite myself, looking up hazily at my little girl, her long hair swept back with a rose pink ribbon that matched the gown she was wearing. She was beautiful, and as always it knocked me for six how I could have possibly birthed something so completely, utterly perfect.

"Serena!"

"I'm getting up!" I yelled back, lifting Elinor up slightly so that I could sit back against the headboard, with her on my lap. "Your granny is in a frightful grump this morning, isn't she?" I murmured into her hair, taking a deep breath. Elinor nodded.

"She says you're lazy," she giggled. I smiled at the sound.

"Ah, well, we both know how granny is after a Sunday roast though, don't we?" Elinor laughed again, her fingers clinging to my nightdress. "You look beautiful, sweetheart," I murmured, hugging her tightly, and I knew then that this wedding had nothing to do with me and my wants at all. It was all for her. Elinor needed a happy family.

Still, unease niggled at my gut, twisting and turning the corners of my lips downwards, and by the time we were on our way to the church, my heart was in my throat.

"Everything alright, Serena?" My best friend Kate asked, in the back of the bridal car. Elinor was seated on my father's lap, as she was to be my other bridesmaid, and my mother in the front.

I coughed, snapped out of my trance. "Yes, fine," I replied shortly. "Just nerves."

"I told you you should have had something to eat this morning! You'll be passing out at the alter—"

"Yes, alright, mum," I sighed, rubbing my temples. Kate grinned, giving my arm a squeeze.

"Don't worry, it's natural to be nervous, biggest day of your life and all that." I raised an eyebrow at her. I had never quite understood that sentiment, that the happiest day of your life were to be that of your wedding. God help me if it was.

"I envy you," she added, with a small smile. I shook my head.

"Whatever for?"

The driver called out that we were soon to arrive, and Kate leaned over to begin adjusting my veil.

"Well, not everyone gets a soulmate," she chatted absentmindedly. I frowned.

"Yeah, it's nice concept, but really—"

"I wish I could just hurry up and meet mine," she murmured, smiling sadly as the car ground to a halt. We were silent as I struggled out of the car, my dress slightly crippling with its thick crinoline and long train. We were stood in the lobby of the chapel before I spoke again.

"What's wrong with Malcolm?" I asked quietly, as my mother fussed around with some late-arriving guests. "Is he not you're, uh, soulmate? You've been with him for years."

She sighed heavily. "Yeah, I love him," she replied, with a wry smile. "But I'll never marry him. I love him, but he's not 'the one', as it were." She chuckled half heartedly. I froze, looking forward at the closed doors of the main chapel, envisioning what lay beyond it, and again that feeling of dread twisted in my gut, the feeling that this was all wrong.

"I'm sorry, I just need to—" I gestured towards the bathroom, before hastily turning away.

"Do you need a hand—"

"No, I'll be quite alright," I added hurriedly, almost breaking into a run as I pushed through the door and stuffed myself into a cubicle, locking the door and sitting down heavily on the closed toilet lid.

I laid my head in my hands. Why was I doing this to myself? We were here, we were getting married - there was no doubt about that. I had to go through with it, for my daughter, for my mother, for everyone that had turned up today. I was being so selfish.

Kate's words rang in my mind. Soulmates. I had given up on the concept. Surely it was simply something reserved for romantic novels. Either way, I knew that that definitely wasn't the way I felt about Edward. But why not? I loved him; I was certain of that. Why the hell would I put myself through his ridiculous drinking habits and questionable morality if not? But still, there was something missing…

Though the sea will be strong

I know we'll carry on

I took a deep, steadying breath, listening to the soft hum of the radio perched on a little stool in the corner of the room through the closed toilet door. The words rang true. We had been through rough patches - hell, sometimes I thought our whole relationship was a rough patch - but we always made up, and somehow I felt that we were stronger for it. We did one another's heads in, but surely we would muddle through. Who needs a soulmate anyway…

If there's somebody calling me on

She's the one

And my stomach lurched, and suddenly I knew. I knew what was wrong, why he was wrong. I sniffed deeply. No. Don't do this to yourself, not now. I had locked her away, in my mind, for more than ten years now. Don't you dare.

But it's funny, the human mind. You tell it not to do something, to ignore something, and it just makes it all the more prominent. I held my breath, squeezed my eyes shut tight against tears and the weight in my chest. But I could see her, so vividly it was almost as though she was in the room with me, could see her smile and the freckles across the bridge of her nose, the glistening of her eyes and the rouge of her lips, could feel her breath on my cheek, could smell her skin and her shampoo, could feel her all around me.

She's the one

Yeah, she's the one

The first tears fell.

My soulmate is not Edward, nor any man; my soulmate is a woman.

A woman that I can't have.

"Serena, are you okay?"

I coughed, quickly grabbing a tissue to dab at my eyes. "Yes, I'm coming."

She had left me. She didn't want me. My soulmate wasn't meant for me.

So I would just have to settle for what I had.

"Ready?" Kate asked with a smile as I exited the toilets, taking my father's waiting arm.

"As I'll ever be." I forced a smile as her and my mother fussed with my dress and veil. Then the doors opened before me, and, on shaky legs, I married the wrong man.

::

She's the one

She's the one

Tears stained my cheeks now as I sat at the kitchen table, my fingers burning around my cup of tea as I realised that she had always been there, in my mind. It has always been her. Had I been waiting for her, all these years, without even realising it? Is it possible to love someone for that long, with no contact?

The twinge in my heart told me it was. I knew what I had to do.

I picked up the house phone from the receiver, hesitated a few moments. Would she even be home? I decided to chance it.

I dialled her home number, my stomach flipping violently, my heart in my throat, thumb resting over the call button. This is it.

I pressed call, allowed it to ring three times, and hung up.