A/N: Thanks for sticking with this! TW for death in this chapter (Not of Zosh or Jac don't fret) Also Guy Self makes an appearance, hope he's not too out of character!
Riding high on the wave of success in her first cardio surgical experience, Zosia was quietly confident that her latest patient required a similar procedure. The patient was young, Zosia had stupidly got far too involved in the case and was determined to make Jac agree to operate.
On reviewing the patient's charts, Jac had not needed much persuasion to Zosia's surprise. In fact, Jac was quietly impressed at her young charges diagnostic skills. The operation went ahead, Zosia's promise to the young patient was kept.
While the diagnosis was not incorrect, the patient was far weaker than Zosia or Jac's initial examinations had revealed. The surgery was invasive and ultimately proved to be too much for the young body to handle. A bleed that no amount of suction or surgical swab could contain, pints of transfused blood now formed pools on the theatre floor. Exhausted and beyond frustrated Jac consulted the rest of the team and called time of death. No one was responsible, the young patient's veins were like sponges, disintegrating with every attempt to suture. A morbid finality set across the room as ventilators were switched off and drips capped. A respectful silence replacing the chaotic buzz of a moment before.
Zosia watched in absolute horror, up to her elbows was drenched in blood. She hadn't voiced support for Jac's decision to stop but that was the least pressing factor in the sickening guilt that settled in her gut. Ripping off her gown and slamming it in the bin, Zosia fled theatre, the door banging shut behind her.
"Doctor March!"
Jac called after her, half angry and half worried for the girl. She mumbled some directives at the nurses and pulled off her own scrubs, following the vague direction Zosia had headed.
It took a thorough scour of the whole of the hospital but Jac found her in a basement wet lab, inconsolable. Jac realised it was probably the first patient Zosia had lost and to lose a patient on the operating table was the worst of all. She sank to her knees beside the distraught girl.
"Zosia. We did everything we could."
Jac spoke quietly, Zosia's loud sobs choked her. She fought off her own reservations and wrapped her arm around the girl to offer her the comfort she needed right now. She gently curled her fingers around her neck, hushing softly into her ear. She felt Zosia's weight as she responded to the hug, her fist clenched around a handful of Jac's scrubs but the sobbing did not subside.
"It was my fault; I should never have pushed for the surgery."
Zosia pulled back suddenly, her face a picture of self-disgust.
"No one was to blame. Your diagnosis was correct, how were we to know that an otherwise healthy patient had unviable veins until surgery?"
This only seemed to upset Zosia further, visions of post-mortem examinations and malpractice hearings crossed her mind and the hands which subconsciously clung to Jac's forearms gripped vice-like tighter as the body was wracked with sobs.
"Zosia please."
Jac Naylor was never desperate for anything or anyone but the heart-wrenching pain of watching this girl tear herself to shreds over an event for which there was no way of preventing the deathly outcome, was actually touching a nerve.
"Zosia!"
She bought her hands up to hold the girl's face, thumb swiping at wet cheeks and silenced her with her lips. It wasn't hot and desperate like the first time, it caught Zosia off-guard.
Zosia swallowed her tears and relaxed into the kiss, reaching up to hold the hands that cupped her face. Her tongue edged in and Jac allowed it this time, kissing deeper and longer to forget, to feel.
Jac was used to loss and pain, years in the medical profession harden you to such feelings. But something about Zosia made Jac want to heal her and give her hope and kissing her was the only way her body knew how.
She'd been through cycles and cycles of F1's all not too dissimilar from the girl in her arms. She didn't know why Zosia should be any different and it scared her. She liked to be completely in control and with Zosia around, that wasn't always the way.
She kept her eyes closed and nudged her forehead against Zosia's as they broke apart, heavy breath mingling in the centimetre gap between their lips.
"It was not your fault." Jac repeated, half whispered as mouths brushed but didn't touch.
The incessant beeping of Jac's pager broke the comfortable reverie. She sighed and slipped from their embrace. The moment she was back on her feet she reverted to Jac Naylor, serious consultant and mentor to the girl sniffling at her feet.
"I have to get back to the ward – go home Zosia, please."
The girl looked up at her through tear laden dark lashes, the moment was passed and she knew it.
Jac expected her to argue but the girl wiped viciously at her eyes with the back of her hands and nodded. As she walked back to the ward, Jac wandered if perhaps today finally stemmed the fierce fight within Zosia, she couldn't help but worry it was all too much and she was too vulnerable to recover from this, Jac wanted her tamed not broken.
Zosia was distant upon her return. Distant from her work, her colleagues and friends. The family of the deceased saw how hard Zosia worked to look after their daughter and respected that too greatly to pin a malpractice case on her or Ms Naylor but that didn't lessen the overwhelming sense of personal loss and guilt that consumed her.
"Cheer up Zoshie, losing patients is an occupational hazard!"
Her father, neurosurgeon Guy Self squeezed her shoulder with a distinct lack of familial affection.
"Occupational hazard? You say that as if you expect them to die! Our job is to make people better Dad! How can I be a good doctor if I don't make people better?"
Her voice which had started fierce and accusatory broke on the last word. She shook her head and willed away the tears. Guy reached out his hand towards his daughter but she recoiled away.
"Some deaths are preventable Dad. Some lives can be prolonged."
She dug her nails into the palms of her tightly balled fists. How dare he.
"Is this about your mother?"
Guy threw his head back, exasperated at the lengths to which his daughter would go to in order to steer conversation back to the betrayal she felt, which he believed was entirely misplaced, over the death of Zosia's mother Anya.
"Actually it wasn't. She had a disease Dad, her death wasn't an 'occupational hazard'. You know what, I'm really busy can you just go."
Zosia began to pace, her fingers working small circles against her temples while she stared at the ground. Her father was an appalling man.
"Mr Self, are you quite finished upsetting my staff?"
Out of nowhere, Jac appeared at the nurse's station, uncharacteristically wearing the Holby monogrammed navy blue hooded fleece over her scrubs in the place of her sharp tailored suits.
"I'm talking to my daughter."
He replied sternly, Zosia stopped pacing fearing the clash of egos that was about to occur.
"And now you're done. Will you please leave my ward Mr Self. Some of us have better things to do."
Under the intense glare of Jac, Guy raised his arms in mock surrender and backed towards the elevator.
"Are you alright?"
Jac quietly regarded Zosia. Although a few days had passed since their second kiss, Jac worried Zosia might be avoiding her again.
She nodded a small appreciative thanks.
"My office door is always open for you."
Jac added before turning quickly. Open kindness didn't come naturally to the consultant and fear of being seen to be soft drew her away from publicly damaging her demeanour any further.
Zosia knew this and the gesture meant more to her than any more public display. Likewise, Jac calling her father off her back saved her the trouble and for that she could only be grateful. Although still wracked with guilt and grief over the loss of her patient, Jac Naylor's little acts of kindness registered deeply in her heart.
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