Hi guys thanks for reading so far. I have made a fun little addition as I go. As of around Chapter 11 or 12, I am adding in Sonny Carisi and Rafa Barba as medical professionals too. I felt like this might be some fun A/U stuff with different relationships to pursue. I would love to know what you guys think so far.
She flipped her hair over her shoulder as she drank her first coffee for the day. She felt a little rough and over-tired but hated laying in bed for too long after she woke up. After making her coffee, she checked her phone and rolled her eyes at yet another five messages.
Liv, I just need you to talk to me, hear me out…
Olivia, it's not fair of you to just disappear off the face of the earth and take another job on the other side of the damn country.
How could you do this to me? You told me you'd never leave me, I feel like I was just a fucking game to you, testing the waters to see if you were truly comfortable … you promised that's wasn't what this was.
Olivia, please, just.. call me, I just want to hear your voice, maybe we can be friends somehow.
And the last message that made her wince;
You are a piece of shit; the worst betrayal I've ever felt in my life Olivia Benson, I don't give a fuck how smart you are, how beautiful you are – you are a user, a coward and a liar and even through all the hurt and the heartbreak you left me with, I am not sorry that you are out of my life. Fuck you.
She wiped away the tears that clouded up her eyes as she sipped her coffee.
She had been working a response up for the past few days that could adequately explain herself but really, there was nothing to explain, not anything she hadn't already given good reason for, at least. The way she saw it, no excuse was ever going to satisfy the reasons for the pain that her ex harboured for her.
Finally she picked up the phone and tapped out a response, We both know why I left, please don't pretend that its all on me. I am sorry that you are hurting, that is the last thing that I want for you. I want you to find happiness and I want you to be happy, but you told me yourself, that happiness that you yearn for isn't going to be with me. I did not use you; my feelings, my love and everything in between was real but unfortunately it's a lot more complicated than that and at this stage I know that whatever I tell you, you won't accept.. I know you know that. Please stop abusing me. I want the best for you, this is not your best. Take care of yourself.
She put the phone on silent and moved around the kitchen getting some food together for the day. Her work schedule was crazier than she had expected – in a way it was nicer and more fulfilling to be busy all day long rather than a handful of patients at a private clinic. She hadn't expected that her hands-on medical experience would be as necessary as it was – on three occasions now she had assisted with basic medical procedures because budget cuts saw nurses as the first to lose hours that she and the other doctor's relied upon.
She sometimes cross-checked medication when there was no one else available and consulted on mild symptoms if Trevor wasn't around or was busy. She liked it, it made her feel useful but there was also another part of her that felt like she was being suckered back in to something she had spent a long time trying to run from.
She turned the radio on trying to block the thoughts of Franklin from her mind – on days where she was feeling a little vulnerable, they became so loud and so fast and she had to drown them out as best as she could to stop it affecting her.
She took the phone blasting the morning radio show in to her bedroom along with her coffee and chose her outfit. A maroon dress that fell just below her knees in an a-line, hugging her figure in a tasteful way with a simple thin black belt around her waist. She'd let her hair dry naturally the night before so it bounced down her shoulders in its natural waves.
She went to the bathroom and finished her coffee off and started to wash her face and brush her teeth and then work on her make up.
/
Sometimes Trevor was spread so thin that he could barely hold it together, but he felt selfish for feeling that way when there were lives to save and children that felt more comfortable around him than they did sharing their trust with their own parents.
Some parents were great at supporting their ill child but others were hopeless, some of them emotionally checked out, others disappeared for long hours, relying on the hospital to work as a caretaker. And then there were some who he could just tell were waiting for that time so that they could finally, in a twist of irony, realise it was their turn to breathe.
He didn't resent that, but he certainly was bothered by it some days.
He'd slept briefly at home and was back at work at 5am to check in on 8 year-old, Evie. She had cried all night and he couldn't stand to leave her, ordinarily he would have left a nurse with her but she had been his patient since she was 3 and a half and she sought comfort in him. Cara, one of the nurses he got along best with, had tried to help pry him away but he just opted to offer himself as the comfort that the child wanted.
At 5:30am Evie was still sound asleep and looking peaceful. He smiled at her and breathed a contented sigh.
He had morning rounds starting at 9am and then outpatient appointments from 11am til 3pm back-to-back.
"What are you doing here so early?" Alexis the night nurse spoke softly. "Pee your bed?"
He gave her a smile and chuckled, "Not last night," he joked, "I was just worried about her, I'm thinking we may have to up the pain medication and revisit the treatment path. Did you see Mom or Dad yesterday?" he wondered.
Alexis nodded, "I had night shift yesterday, remember?" she asked, "we tag-teamed when you got here. Her parents were here before work and the aunt and uncle visited after lunch, according to Liz. I think her Mom and Dad are doing the best they can, they have three other kids, Trev, don't be quick to judge."
"I just know if it were my kid, I'd find a way," he murmured. He stood for a second, staring at the child, thinking of his younger brother. He had to slowly peel himself away, feeling terrible that she was left to her own devices for long periods of time.
He picked up the clipboard at the door and pulled his pen from his pocket and pushed it until he heard the click of the nib appearing at the end and wrote a few notes on Evie's worsening condition before putting it back and going back to his office for awhile to clean up his files and submit a couple of reports.
/
"I'm going to get coffees," he announced to the desk nurse, Liz. "do you want to get a list of what everyone would like and put a call through to the cafeteria?" he asked, "and… what time is Dr. Benson starting?" he wondered.
"8am," a voice replied from behind him and he realized it was coming from her.
He turned around, almost showing the complete surprise on his face. She looked beautiful in a very flattering maroon dress with black pumps and her beautiful hair pulled over one shoulder, looking both effortless and classic all rolled in to one. She didn't return his smile – despite her perfect make-up, her hair and her impeccable taste in clothes, she still seemed stone-faced and bothered by him.
"Would you like a coffee Dr. Benson? My treat."
"No thanks, I can get my own coffee," she replied and kept walking, heading toward her office which was across from his at the back-end of the ward.
The desk nurse rose her eyebrow at him, "Uhohhhhh, what did you do to upset Dr. Sexpot?"
He threw her a funny face, "Probably don't call her that, Liz," he told her lightly but meant it with seriousness. "And I didn't do anything, she just really doesn't like me," he added.
"I'm sure you did something; I heard you were rude to her, at least that's what Cara said," she teased him, "better get her a coffee anyway and try to make amends."
"No way, she'll probably throw it at me," he chuckled but realized it was the best way to try to smooth things over. "Go on," he nodded at her coffee list, "put her coffee on there if you know it…"
Liz gave him a smug look and wrote down the order that she knew Dr. Benson took, only because she had ordered it for her the morning previous. "You're a good man, Trevor, don't be bull-headed just because you don't like that you're not the only doctor around."
"That's not-" he sighed, "that's not what this is. We are dealing with sometimes, terminal patients. I don't need children who are overexcited or parents who are becoming more touchy-feely—this job is hard enough some days, not everything has to be a lengthy discussion about feelings for these kids."
"And it's not" Liz argued. All the staff really liked Trevor, but was sometimes very in-his-head about things and had strong opinions on things that he did or did not like.
"Dr. Benson isn't just here to just talk to the kids, she got here an hour early yesterday just so she could give an extra hour to Sarah to teach her how to crochet – she chats with these kids in a way that's innocuous, so that they can be honest without realizing that they're airing their feelings; she's not the kind of therapist that's looking for an emotional breakthrough, Trevor, she's here to support them through whatever it is they're dealing with – just the same as you and us."
"Really? She spent all that time with Sarah?" he asked, "that's really nice."
"Yeah, you're not the only one who works outside of his role, Trevor, cut her a break, I've noticed little miss Amy lights up whenever she walks in the room… her mother doesn't cry or freak out as much, so that makes your job easier, right?"
"Right…" Trevor's voice trailed off, feeling a little reproached. Maybe he had been a bit dismissive.
/
"Thank you!" he smiled at the girls at the nurses station. Trevor took his coffee from the nurses desk; it was a tall, double shot latte with no sugar. "Which one is Dr. Benson's?" he asked Liz.
She nodded at the one beside his, "the medium cappuccino with almond milk." Trevor made a face and pulled it from the cardboard tray. He made his way down to her office and knocked softly on the door.
"Come on in?" she called out. He opened the door with his elbow, balancing her coffee on top of his. She couldn't have looked less excited to see him. It was a little unsettling if he was honest.
"What can I do for you, Dr. Langan?" she asked, straight to the point. He wanted to see her smile, she looked frustrated and a little tired too. He didn't know she wore glasses, but she was wearing a pair of thick black frames over her beautiful chocolate eyes.
"I know you said you could get your own coffee, but I was buying coffee for everyone and I didn't want to leave you out." He held it up so she could see what he'd got for her, "so, here…"
"Thanks, that was kind of you – but I'm lactose intolerant," she remarked.
Wow, he thought, she was really making him work hard and he wasn't sure he deserved her rudeness. "I realise that, so…almond milk?" he offered.
"Oh," she considered his offer briefly. "Well, thanks, I appreciate the gesture," she replied.
He stepped inside her office, crossing the threshold, very aware of entering what felt like her personal space. "No problem, I hope its okay." He placed the coffee down on her desk and lingered for a second, spying her medical certifications on the wall behind her and in front of her.
He nearly balked when something caught his eye.
"Dr. Olivia Benson," he breathed, "You're a certified cardiac thoracic surgeon?" he saw the smaller one beneath it, "Specialising in Cardiology" he could have choked, he was not expecting that she was a cardiologist and a surgeon. He could only imagine how amazing her brain must have been.
She glanced up at the framed certification and back at him. "You seem shocked that someone else could have as much experience in the field as you," she replied, "and that kind of is the very thing that troubles me about you."
He let a breath slowly out. "Can I sit?" he asked, motioning to the chair beside her desk that the patient probably sat on before the got comfortable in the lounge chairs before a session.
She shrugged, "Go for it… I have all day to shoot the breeze," she told him sarcastically. He went to shut the door, "leave the door open," she said firmly. "There's no need to shut the door," she snapped.
He held up a hand in surrender and came back to the seat.
"Please stop snapping at me, Olivia, I'm really trying here, maybe I've got a case of goof-mouth, but it really isn't my intention, I'm not a bad person," he told her.
"It's the clichés," she replied, staring at him with irate, "you're self-proclaimed 'not a bad person'" she rolled her eyes, "I've been in the medical field since I was 18. I'm 39, Trevor, I've worked with a lot of doctors so you'll have to forgive me if my self-preservation becomes an issue for you."
He felt like her statement was loaded – she was nothing if not closely guarded.
"I don't want us to have a terrible working relationship," he said calmly, "I don't want you to feel like you have to be on-guard with me. I do this job because I love it. I love helping out kids because there is no one else to be that voice for them," he explained, "we do an important job here, Olivia, these children are institutionalised by their own health, this whole medical life – it's isolating for them and often the adults in their lives take over and nothing is their choice; the treatment, the consent to treatment, their personal space- everything and I just want to make that part of life easier for them and if I can, help them get to a place of recovery, that is literally my only goal in life."
She considered his emphatic words, his directness and the seriousness. He held her eye contact so that his words could sink in; so that she would see that he was serious. "You can call it a hero complex or a saviour complex, whatever you want, but I am here to help and I want to have the best team in this ward as I possibly can, I want to get along with you, I want us to be able to work together along with the nurses… I don't want tension or arguments or scepticism."
She averted her eyes away from his and picked up her coffee and took a sip. He was telling the truth, it was almond milk.
"I finished my surgical residency in California in thoracics after working briefly in pediatric cardiology and I worked for less than a year as a surgeon and realized it wasn't for me. I had a special interest minor in psychology so I just did an extra year and worked for awhile as a bereavement counsellor and learned about art therapies and other types of play therapies to help kids through their grief or through scary times and… I threw a dart on a map and somehow I ended up here in New York."
Trevor laughed, "Really, a dart?"
"Sure," she smiled back at him, feeling some tension release. She watched him laugh again, his whole face changed, a tiny wrinkle at the bridge of his nose and his eyes that she found to be a little disarming became warm and kind if not a little intense. He did have a charm; she could see it when he smiled and perhaps it was the fact that he sounded genuine when explaining his love for his job. "You're funny," he replied.
She felt her cheeks heat up slowly. "No, not really about the map, I just needed a clean break from my ex-girlfriend," she told him.
He nearly spat his coffee. He did not expect that. "Uhuh," he nodded with understanding, processing, wondering why it even struck him as being surprising that Dr. Benson wasn't interested in men.
"I can see it on your face," she laughed, "you're surprised that I have an ex-girlfriend," she remarked, "its okay, everyone seems surprised."
"Hey, that's your business, I'm not judging," he replied, treading lightly. "I try to never assume anything," he added. "I know what it's like though, needing that fresh start. I married young and divorced young and moved here from Buffalo about ten years ago, its just that weirdness of running in to the person you spent so much time with and to try to make small talk when it's the last thing you want," he commiserated.
"Yeah, it can be like that… my ex and I weren't together very long but we both thought it was going to be the greatest love of our lives," she laughed sardonically.
Trevor smiled at her, engaged by her self-aware laughter, her self-consciousness and her ability to immediately make him feel at ease with her.
"Well, I'm sorry to hear it didn't work out, Dr. Benson but I do hope New York lives up to your expectations – I'll never leave this city, I've fallen in love with it."
She smiled back at him, finally seeing a little warmth from him that didn't seem at all forced. "Thanks, I do like it here but I am struggling to sleep with all the noise," she admitted.
"Ha," he grinned, "that's the beauty of New York; it's the city that never sleeps. I don't sleep anyway, I think I squeezed in about 3 hrs last night… I stayed back with Evie, she's struggling a little."
"What's going on?" Olivia wondered. She glanced at her screen and found the little girl's folder and opened it up.
"Lack of parental presence at the moment, they're trying but it's just hard, they have twin toddlers and another daughter a little bit older than Evie, they're just doing their best to cover the bills and trying to give their daughter a normal life," Trevor explained. He leaned back, resting his head against the back of the wall.
"Do you want me to talk to her, spend some time with her today?" she asked. "I can do some activity-based therapy."
He turned his head and smiled at the beautiful doctor beside him, "if you think it might help," he said and immediately saw her face turn sour. "Wait, that's not me patronizing you Dr. Benson, I don't know much about your therapy, I don't know if it will help, please don't misconstrue what I mean."
She wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. "I take her an activity and we chat, I find out about what she's into, what makes her happy and then what makes her sad and we go from there and the distraction is the activity that relaxes her enough to speak bluntly about something she might otherwise feel too afraid to say – because believe it or not, these tiny little people have emotions or feelings that they process just the same as you or I, and truthfully, some of them probably do it a little better than we do."
"That's a good point," he agreed.
"And in the event of something being directly wrong," Olivia continued, "I would then make a recommendation as to how we can move ahead to tackle some of those issues. If it's about her Mom or Dad, then we can look at services to support her parents make more time for her – I can counsel Mom or Dad and help them support her."
Trevor nodded, it didn't sound so stupid or useless now that she was explaining her method. "That actually sounds good, she's really emotional, I stayed here until about midnight with her."
Olivia raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"
"She was upset," he replied, "I've been treating Evie since she was 3, she's a sweet heart and …" he smiled, "don't let anyone hear this, but she happens to be one of my favourites."
Olivia considered his words. "So what, you just sat with her? And did what?" she wondered, trying to piece together why someone who felt as though talking therapy was useless, seemed to be so bent on dropping his own personal time to sit and talk with a child.
"I just stuck my head in on a couple of patients before I was set to leave," he explained, "I don't know if you know much about her but she's got brain cancer. We are hoping for it to be operable but finding the right surgeon who will take a chance, the cost – all of those things, it's taking its toll and it seems to be causing a little pain which makes me believe it's impacting on something, so I wanted to check, just to see if her head was still hurting," he shrugged, "I found laying there watching a cartoon on the TV and crying silently, it was … pretty heart breaking."
"Oh," Olivia pouted, holding a hand to her chest. "Poor sweetheart."
Trevor smiled wryly at the thought of how he found the child. "She just missed Mom and Dad and wanted to go home so I sat and talked to her, it was a little late but… what does routine and regimented bed time mean to these kids? They absolutely know nothing about normalcy?" he asked rhetorically. "Her vision is slightly impacted at the minute so I ended up reading to her until she fell asleep."
Olivia felt herself warming to the doctor across from her. "That was a nice thing you did, but you know, you have a lot on your plate, you should maybe get the nurses to sometimes step in," she suggested.
He gave her a smile and took a sip of his coffee, "They tried but they were busy too and I knew they wouldn't be able to spend as much time with her. I don't mind really, I like being a doctor, but I also like dealing with patients. I haven't got to that stage of my career where I treat each child like a number – and if I get to that, I'll know it'll be time to retire."
He was slightly refreshing. "You're a professor, right? Is that true?"
He nodded. "Yes, but I prefer to be referred to as Dr. I don't want to let it get to my head or give anyone that weird inferiority complex, for legal purposes I'm a Professor Langan, but out here on the floor I'm Dr. Langan or .. Trevor, or whatever you want, I'm informal."
"Same," she replied. "Dr. Benson, Queen Benson, Olivia, Liv, That moody jerk…" she replied with a little, embarrassed smile. "I'm sorry that I was hard on you, I just-"
"No," he shook his head, "I was being a dick and took my bad mood out on you the other day. Truthfully, the last social worker we had here was not helpful and created some issues with the patients and encouraged the parents to embrace second opinions which made them question everything that I was doing – so I suppose it does help to know that you are from a science-based medicine background." He replied, "And I'm pretty impressed by anyone who makes it as a cardiac thoracic surgeon, Olivia, not just you or a woman. That's a lot of hard yards."
"If I was able to cut it as a thoracic surgeon, I'd be working as a thoracic surgeon," she replied dryly as she took the lid off of her coffee that she had been drinking the entire time he was chatting with her. She finished the rest of it off.
"Don't be too hard on yourself, Liv," he retorted, "we all have our reasons and our paths that take us to where we are at and I'm sure yours was the right one for you. So far I've noticed Hannah and Amy Venables are a lot calmer and Hannah hasn't second guessed me or argued with me since you did your magic there and I heard you have been helping out with some of the medical stuff for the nurses when they're under the pump, so… I think you're going to fit in well here."
"Thanks, that's nice of you to say."
He stood up and a little part of her was disappointed to see him go. "Better start getting ready for rounds. I'll see you around."
"Sure, thanks for the coffee," she replied, "it was actually necessary today."
"You bet, later, Benson," he waved at her as he left her to it.
Olivia felt satisfied as she came from her session with Sarah. They had completed their first Amigurami – a crochet hippo and Sarah was just finishing up with it's clothes and since she was able to read the patterns that Olivia helped her with, she was happy to continue the rest on her own.
She checked her watch as she walked out of Sarah's room. She had another one-on-one session in her office at 2:30 and all of her rounds were finished. It was a quiet day, she was warned that some days would be like that.
She went back to her office and stored her files and glanced at the pathetic sandwich that she could see in her handbag. She made a face. She picked up her phone and saw that she had another message from Charlotte. She sighed and dared to open it.
"Go to hell, Olivia."
She stared at the words for a moment. In a fit of annoyance, she deleted the entire message history between she and her ex and scrolled through her contacts and deleted her number as well as anyone who had any relation to Charlotte. Next, she thought as she opened up her social media and deleted her from Facebook and went ahead and deleted the photos of them together from her profile picture. She deleted her relationship status that she often stared at awkwardly, waiting for Charlotte to do it first.
She deleted it from visibility so as not to embarrass her if she wasn't ready to tell people.
She changed her photo to a picture of her at graduation with her Mom, many, many years ago before her death.
She pulled her black blazer on over her dress and slipped her phone in to her pocket and a $20 from her purse. She told the shift manager nurse that she was off to get something to eat. She made her way to the cafeteria and looked at the many different types of food.
She settled on a Caesar salad.
She waited behind a doctor in scrubs who's ID tag, attached to the side of his shirt, boasted him being a surgeon. Olivia stared at his title for a few moments, remembering the days of running around in the very few minutes she had to eat before consulting and debriefing with Franklin…
"Fancy meeting you here…" a voice cut through her reverie, bumping her shoulder lightly. She jumped a mile coming back to earth.
She glanced up at the tall Dr beside her and quickly smiled, pushing away the tightness in her chest. "What's your poison for today?" he asked her.
"Mmm, Caesar salad I think… what about you?"
"Good choice," he nodded approvingly, "I usually get the salad with turkey meat or some kind of grilled cheese, I am a sucker for grilled cheese."
"I make the best grilled cheese," she boasted, "so I can't buy it, it'd just be an instant dismissal."
Trevor rolled his eyes at her, "Oh yeah? Everyone thinks their grilled cheese is the best, what makes yours so different?" he wondered, smiling down at her. He towered over her even in her black pumps.
"As if I'm going to tell you, it's a secret. Everyone can say what they want about their own grilled cheese, but they haven't had mine."
"Touchè," he replied good-naturedly.
The surgeon took his food and left. Trevor motioned for Olivia to go right ahead to the counter.
He watched her as she ordered, polite, kind and full of bright smiles for everyone – the kind of vibe that he really dug. Once she got her food, she turned to him. "See you back upstairs?"
"Wait, can you wait a second for me? I have something I want to ask," he replied.
"Sure…" Olivia shrugged her shoulders and stepped aside as he turned to the woman working behind the counter. Olivia quite liked him as a person – there were a few things that she found annoying about him, but after ironing out a few misunderstandings, she realised he was a good person with a good heart. But, she thought, he did kind of still look goofy in his white coat.
She smiled at him as he returned with a salad bowl, a little paper bag that she could see a frosted donut inside of and a bottle of water that he tucked beneath his arm. "Let's go back upstairs, this is a madhouse," he looked around – patients and doctors alike were filing in and out. Olivia was glad, seeing surgeons walking around was starting to allow her anxiety to creep in.
He made an effort not to walk ahead of her, something he was often conscious of while walking and talking with people. She kept a less urgent pace as they went back up to their ward in the lift. "You're quiet," he remarked.
"I'm fine, there was just a lot going on down there," she admitted.
"Yeah, it's always noisy—come on, come in to my office." They headed down the hall until he stopped out the front of a room. "Just one stop," he told her. He stuck his head in to the room. Olivia stopped too. He stepped in and she saw a smile light up his face. "Hello, sleepy head," he greeted the little girl that he sat with last night.
"Trevor!" she exclaimed, happy to see him.
"How are you feeling today?" he asked her.
"Okay, my head is a little sore but Mommy came in before," she told him.
"Great! Evie, this is my friend Dr Olivia…" he waved Liv in. "I think she might come and have a sit down and chat to you later."
"Hi Olivia," the little girl waved.
Olivia smiled at her. "Hi honey, Trevor told me that your head has been bothering you, did the nurses give you something for your pain?" she wondered.
"We increased the dexamethasone to help with impacting pain," Trevor told Olivia, "once we get the scans back we should better understand what we're dealing with and how to treat it, dex comes with its own issues," he explained.
Olivia nodded, her concern showing on her face. She felt for the little girl who was dealing with a lot on her plate and mostly in solitude. She immediately understood Trevor's gravitation toward her; he felt for her, he didn't want her to be alone and it was clear by her excitement to see anyone, that she was starved for company. "How about I come and see you after my next appointment?" she suggested, "I have some fun things we can do."
"Yeah!" Evie smiled.
Olivia glanced at Trevor and saw him smiling at her too. Her cheeks warmed up, noticing his appraisal of her. "Great, well I can't wait!" she told the girl.
"Have you had food today?" Trevor asked her.
Evie nodded, "Cara brought me a sandwich for breakfast," she replied, a sly smile taking over her face.
Trevor laughed, "Let me guess, chicken and cheese with more butter than I would regularly approve of?"
She giggled and nodded. Olivia laughed.
"Okay well… I got you something, but shhh," he pressed his fingers to his lips. "Don't tell Cara, I'll get in to trouble." He set his lunch down and showed her the donut. Olivia watched the little girl's eyes open wide.
"Oh wait, you hate pink frosting," he joked, knowing full well it wasn't the truth. "I better eat it then," he winked.
"Nooo I loooove pink frosting!" she exclaimed. Trevor laughed. "Well, sweetheart, you enjoy your donut okay? I'm going to eat my lunch now and Dr. Olivia will come and see you in a little while, she's so much fun," he promised, glancing up at Olivia and giving her a smile.
"Thank you for my donut," she said softly.
"You're very welcome, you deserved it after how brave you were yesterday. You got the TV going and everything now?"
She nodded, "And Mommy brought me my Nintendo."
"Great," he smiled. "I'll see you later, Evie."
Olivia waved at her and told her she'd see her later too.
/
Olivia stabbed her fork in to her salad and glanced at Trevor expectantly as he spoke. "So, I have this patient," he began, "she's 16 and has started displaying some weird heart events on an echo and at a glance I would hazard a guess at what's going on—I think it's ASD that wasn't picked up at birth," he told her.
"Atrial Septal Defect?" she confirmed.
He nodded. "Yeah, but I'm gonna be honest Olivia, I haven't made friends down at cardiology and based on her age, the fact that they think I'm a dick, they think I'm getting ahead of myself. I know you're not hired here for cardio but—"
"But you want me to look her over?" she asked.
"Only if you don't mind – you're still licenced, right?"
She gave him a blank stare from beneath her eyebrows.
He held up his hands, "Sorry, just checking— I know you obviously have to be GP trained, but I don't know much about your cardiology experience."
"I can't tell you how hard I studied to become a cardiologist," she told him 'and as soon as I was done, I thought, 'this isn't enough', so I took up a surgical residency… I feel like I wasted all that time given I won't ever be a surgeon again, so I guess if I can help you treat one patient, I'm happy to do it," she told him.
Trevor took a mouthful of salad, "Why didn't you want to be a surgeon anymore?" he asked. "You're inspiring me to pick up the scalpel," he smiled kindly.
She shrugged, "It's really a lot of reasons, but I like this job and I love the work that this job brings. I like solving problems in a different way and to be honest, some days when I'm hanging out with the kids, its just light and fun even if we're discussing heavy things."
"I get that," he agreed, deciding not to push the matter further. "So my patient is currently an outpatient, do you have some time at 4:30 to come and sit in?" he asked.
"Sure," she smiled.
"At least if you hold some weight to what I say, I might be able to get her a quicker appointment with cardiology," he said.
Olivia frowned, "I mean, I trust that if you think it's ASD, it'd be worth it to check regardless of how busy they are – if this kid's heart blows out, that's blood on all of our hands because no one has done their due diligence."
Trevor smiled at her determination – and also her trusted in her medical opinion. "Okay slugger, I definitely want you in my court."
She was able to relax for a second and laugh. "I don't miss hospital politics," she sighed. "That's actually what was nice about working in my own private practice." She stabbed some chicken and took a bite, wishing she'd bought herself a drink.
"Oh? Your own psych practice?" he asked.
She nodded. "Yeah, back in Los Angeles…" she informed him. "I closed up shop to come to New York, and to be honest, I was getting bored of the same insipid bullshit," she replied. "At least these kids have actual problems which is a change from trying to sort out someone's messy love life or addiction counselling…" she made the motion as if she was nodding off.
Trevor laughed, "I couldn't do that. I don't really suffer people's self-indulgent problems very well," he admitted, "maybe that means I'm not very compassionate."
"No," she shook her head, "it means that you see meaningful problems every day through the eyes of parents and children and no one is at fault—it makes it hard to swallow that people create their own dramas and self-victimize…"
He nodded. "Yeah, maybe that… whenever I hear a friend talking about something, I really want to be kind and understanding but the other half of me thinks, 'come and see my patients and get ready to be humbled'"
Olivia smiled. "I guess pain is relative to what you've dealt with, our own problems are always bigger than everyone else's because we have to live with them. Even us, we see some upsetting stuff, but we still get to go home to a warm bed and switch off when we need to."
Trevor listened to her speak, letting his eyes linger over her. She didn't ever hold back on the eye contact and he loved that. Her stare was intense and open, he could tell that despite the hiccups upon their first meetings, she didn't judge him. She finished up with her salad and placed the empty bowl down on the desk and picked up a napkin and blotted her lips so as not to mess up her perfect maroon shade.
She balled it up and tossed it inside the bowl along with her little plastic fork.
"You're right about that," Trevor agreed, watching her pull her hair around from one shoulder to the other. He loved her hair, it was long and beautiful and and looked soft and when he was close enough, he could smell the scent of her shampoo and perfume.
"I'm right about most things," she chuckled. She glanced at her watch, "OK, I better go and prep for out patient. I'll catch up with you at 4:30."
"Okay," he smiled. "See ya."
/
Olivia looked at her notes with a little frown, she looked back up at the 11-year-old girl. "Do you like your new doctors?" she asked the girl. She was bright, up-beat and had a tendency to make jokes at her own expense, already at her young age. She really enjoyed seeing her and enjoyed their conversations and how open she was.
She shrugged, "they're okay,"
Olivia studied her shifting eyes and her obvious discomfort immediately. "It must be tough leaving Long Island to move to Manhattan – everything is crazy different, isn't it?"
Maisy nodded. "Yeah, but Mom says that the hospital is better here and the doctors are better too, I don't mind, I like the city, we can eat Japanese food all the time here."
Dr. Benson laughed and asked her about her favourite thing to eat when they ate Japanese cuisine, but she wanted to circle back to the earlier conversation about her new medical care team. "So let me ask you about your doctors, is that cool?"
She nodded.
Olivia had a list on her lap and glanced down at it. "You met Dr Wilson from the respiratory clinic, how was that?"
Maisy didn't seem too worried, "I dunno, he was nice but I don't listen to what they talk about because sometimes it's scary, so I just use my ear phones unless Mom catches me and then I have to take them out."
"Maisy, okay, I want to talk about that in a minute, maybe we can come up with something so that you don't have to feel scared or nervous or wear your earphones in to your appointments with Dr. Wilson," she told her.
"Okay," the little girl replied as if nothing at all phased her.
"It says here that you met Dr. Kildare who is looking after the Lodosis," she remarked. She saw it again, the change of the child's expression. Olivia drew a tiny question mark against the doctor's name. "Was he nice?"
"Yes, Mom really liked him…"
For Olivia it was more about what Maisy didn't say and how she began to fidget with discomfort. "What about you, Mais, did you like him?"
She nodded and plastered a smile across her pale lips.
"Tell me about the appointment, did Dr Kildare treat you the same way that your other specialist did?"
"A little bit," she replied, reluctant to say much about him. Olivia felt a little troubled. It was the first time Maisy had been anything but perfectly happy to chat about something.
"Did he say anything scary to you?"
She shook her head, "No Dr. Kildare just said that I should do some exercises for my back so I don't get pain in my butt or my lower back when I get a bit older."
"Cool," Olivia smiled. "when do you see him next?"
She shrugged, "he wanted to try a small brace because sometimes it hurts here…" she put her hands on her hips. "Mom said we could make it a day when I have to see you so we don't have to come to the hospital twice."
"Good thinking, Mom…" Olivia smiled at her. "Hey Maisy, I just want to tell you again something that is really important to remember, okay?"
"What?"
"Whatever you and I talk about in this room is our business. I won't tell anyone unless you want or unless I know that you've been badly hurt or going to be badly hurt… otherwise, this is our space, so if there's anything you want to tell me that you're worried about, I want you to feel free because I will never get upset with you for your feelings."
"Okay," she replied. "Dr Benson you are my favourite doctor," she smiled, "and when I came to stay here when Mom and I first got to town, Dr Langan looked after me and he was so much fun. He loaned me a book from his house," she was a little boastful, as if she'd met a celebrity of at least medium-level fame.
Olivia grinned at her. "Wow! That's such an honour to hear you say that, I am so lucky to be your doctor and you got Dr Trevor's care! Dr Trevor is my friend, did you know that?"
"Your boyfriend?" she asked gently with a slyness to her tone that Olivia found to be cheeky and adorable.
Olivia couldn't help but to laugh too, "No, Maisy, I don't know him that well, I'm only new as well, did you know that?"
She shook her head. "Where did you live before New York?"
"In California," Olivia replied. "I came here for this job and I love it. I love meeting all of my wonderful patients every day just like you."
"But I'm your favourite, right?" she joked with Olivia. Olivia really did like her, she was up there with her favourites but she could never admit it out loud.
Instead, she just winked at the little girl. She went back to the discussion about her respiratory care. "Maisy when you get nervous about seeing Dr. Wilson, can you describe to me what that feelings like?"
"I just feel like I get a little dizzy if I'm scared. I try really hard not to cry but I cried last time and Mom was sad too because she didn't mean to make me sad.
"What kind of things did Dr. Wilson say?"
"He talked to Mom about my breathing and he said that if I don't get enough oxygen then my lungs could die… Mom said I don't have to worry and its grown up talk but-"
"But it's still very scary to hear because you know that your lungs are bad and that breathing sometimes can be hard," Olivia reflected for her. She nodded glumly.
"Maisy, it's totally normal to be scared of those things and those conversations. Your Mom is right, it is grown up talk, but in a way, I think you are very grown up because you understand what your body can and can't do better than your friends might." She paused, thinking for a moment, "When you feel scared and you get a little dizzy, do you feel like maybe you might need to cry," she offered, "or lay down, or faint?"
"Sometimes it feels like I'm in a dream and my hands get tingly and I want to cry because I can't breathe and then I feel like the doctor is right and my lungs are about to die."
Olivia felt for the 11 year-old that was describing a panic attack. "Okay, I think I can help with that…" she told her. Maisy stared back with her big hazel-eyes, her hair ash-blond hair tied back in to a twin dutch braid. "Do you think it would help if I had a chat to Dr. Wilson and Mom about having grown-up talks after he examines you? You could maybe go and wait in the waiting room with a book? And in the meantime, you and I can work on some special exercises to stop those yucky feelings of panic so that you can calm yourself."
She nodded and Olivia watched her eyes fill with tears. It was definitely the hardest part of her job, watching her kids show their vulnerabilities and having to discern whether or not it was okay to show affections. Generally, in the privacy of her office she refrained, on the ward – in the open, she didn't have an issue with it because they were children and for some, it was such a small ask of affection that they may not have otherwise received.
Olivia made an executive decision and put her notepad down on the desk behind her and got up. She made her way around the little table that separated the two couches. She sat down beside Maisy on the two-seater. She laid her hand out to the little girl, "would you like to hold my hand?" she asked her.
Maisy nodded, her face crumpling and the tears began to flow steadily. She took Olivia's hand but leaned against her flank. Olivia let go and put an arm around her and affectionately soothed her, using a calm, warm tone.
/
Olivia stared at Trevor, the room silenced while she listened to the murmur that presented itself within the patient's chest. "Can you hear?" Trevor asked.
She nodded, hearing the dull mechanical sounding thud, a brief pause, then the thrum of the heart's beat starting up again. She pulled the stethoscope from her ears and turned to the teenager. Like most patient's with organ issues, she was small and looked no-where near her age. "Could you take a deep breath and hold it for me, Julia?" she asked.
The girl did as she was asked and the murmur became more prominent as her chest worked harder to pump the blood. Trevor watched Olivia closely; her face was stone, concentration taking over, distracted by absolutely nothing. Despite what had made her leave her role as a surgeon or specialist care, he knew it wasn't the job itself because he could see on her face that patient care was something that was meaningful and important to her.
He admired that.
"Yeah…" Olivia pulled the flat disc of the stethoscope away from Julia's back and gently pulled her shirt down. She nodded at Trevor, "I hear it, its ASD, just to be sure, I'd get your own echo, focusing on the upper chambers, might be worth checking on lungs too, just to see how it's all fairing, sweet-talk the Cath lab," she smiled at him.
Olivia was very cautious of her words after the conversation she'd had earlier with Maisy, especially given that this particular patient was older.
"Thanks, Dr. Benson," he returned her smile.
"Thanks for letting me have a listen, Julia, I appreciate it." She turned to Julia's two parents, "I think we can finally agree that Dr. Langan has found an accurate diagnosis, so that must be a relief."
Julia's father glanced at Olivia's ID tag and back at her, "arent' you a psychologist?" he asked as if her opinion held no merit. His wife nudged him to shut up.
"I am," she smiled, "but I have worked in cardio and am originally a thoracic surgeon…"
"She's a jack of all trades," Trevor beamed at her, "I trust her medical opinion and dedication greatly," he assured them.
"Okay well," she eased over the awkwardness in the air, "I'll leave you to it, all the best Julia," she smiled at the patient, "I know Dr. Langan is going to take incredible care of you. You are in the best hands."
"Thanks Liv," Trevor smiled.
She gave a little wave and left his office, closing the door behind her and dropping her forced smile. Wherever she went, she couldn't escape the questions – why would anyone possibly leave a real doctor job for what she was doing instead.
She breathed in deeply; focusing on one sound, one smell, one feeling – anything to push away the anxiety rising in her chest.
/
Trevor stared at the photo of his younger brother in the frame upon his desk. Sometimes people asked if it was his son; an artful attempt at making a modern photo look weathered. He usually smiled fondly and shook his head and offered no further explanation.
He looked at the small, blond boy in the photo holding a square gift, wearing a cone shaped birthday hat upon his head. It wasn't his last birthday but certainly the last birthday in his family that anyone celebrated. Thomas's last birthday was far too painful for anyone to want to think about and after that day, Trevor stopped celebrating his own too; at first it was fear, that birthdays brought about tragedy and sickness but as he got older, he understood Thomas did not die because it was his birthday—that people don't simply die because they hit an age; but because there were other problems at large. However, a couple of birthdays had already come and gone without acknowledgement and he was okay with that.
A knock on the door frame broke him from his thoughts; he looked up from the dim light of his lamp where he had been going over some reports.
He saw that Olivia was standing there; he thought she had gone hours ago. Her office door had been shut and he hadn't seen her since the consult. "Hey…" he was tired and she could see it. He took his clear-framed glasses off and set them down on top of the papers that littered his desk top. "Why are you still here?"
"I could ask you the same thing…" she gave him a smile back. "I'm just on my way out but… I just wanted to ask you something."
His interest was piqued and there was a little part of him that in someway expected that she was going to ask him to join her for a drink or for a late dinner. "Shoot…"
She let herself in and gathered her black blazer in her lap, setting her handbag down for a moment. "Do you know much about Dr. Kildare from Orthopedics?" she wondered.
There was a tiny little bit of disappointment that filled him as she asked the work-related question. Trevor thought for a second, "I know of him, but I don't know him." He paused, watching her thinking for a moment. "Why?"
"He's watching over one of our patients and … I dunno, she just got very weird when discussing him, I just got a weird feeling."
Trevor rose an eyebrow, "What kind of weird feeling?"
"I don't know – she wouldn't discuss it, but every other doctor was freely discussed, it was just enough to raise some alarm bells in my mind."
He felt momentarily irritated. "Maybe she doesn't like him, some kids don't like me, it's not personal, they, just like adults, clash with certain personalities. Don't look for something that's not there, Olivia, that's a really dangerous move."
It was her turn to feel irate. "Trevor, I don't know what hack career you think I have, but my job is to listen to what my patients tell me and figure out what they don't. I study body language, I study how they are triggered and get to the base of their trauma. My patient was off."
He stared at her for a moment, feeling both impressed by her directness but also incredibly irritated by what seemed like her perfect, flawless approach. He glanced at his brother again and this time felt resentment stir within him. "Well what are you saying, Olivia? You think a well-renowned doctor is being inappropriate in a setting where parents are around?" He laughed in spite, not because it was a funny accusation. "You shrinks love to go there, don't you?"
"Forget I asked you, I expected that I could get a mature response from you, that you would vouch for the doctor to ease the weird vibes I picked up on, but no, it's my fault, it's the shrink that has the problems… I actually thought we were going to get along well," she laughed too, "but once again, you can't help but to undervalue my work and I'll remember that next time you need help and need a second opinion." She got up and picked up her handbag and draped her blazer over her arm.
"Wait, Olivia, I'm sorry-"
"No," she said, holding up her hand, "I am not here to try to placate your ego and your hero complex. I am here to help these kids, I don't doubt you are very good at what you do, but I am not here to be treated like your subordinate—and I won't be, goodnight."
She turned and left, her pumps clip-clopping angrily out of his office.
He felt bad, he knew that his reaction was purely out of frustration – from the thoughts about his brother that had been haunting him all day since he'd seen Justin's face, slowly but surely, the light going out in his eyes. He wanted to tell Olivia that he'd arrived at the hospital and was in his final days; but his outburst had taken selfish precedence.
He thought about Thomas; about his slow decline too, the good days and the bad days – the days he had been entirely invisible; a ghost in his family, wanting desperately for someone to notice him the way they paid attention to his little brother.
Despite how many years had passed, Trevor still couldn't shake the guilt of what he had put his parents through, of not understanding and how the years of proceeding therapy had made it all just feel a thousand times worse.
/
Olivia caved; she picked up the phone on the third ring. "Hi…" her voice trailed off.
"Liv…" Charlotte seemed surprised that she answered. "You deleted me from socials, are you trying to hurt me?"
She broke down, tired and strangely hurt by Trevor's nastiness back at work. "No," she cried, knowing that her ex would hear the tears. "I really don't want to hurt you, Char, but this is hurting me too, I don't want to be this person, I didn't want to do this to you, but I can't do it, I can't be who you want me to be…" she sobbed in to the phone.
There was silence on the other end. "You were never who I wanted you to be," she said in a small voice. "And I was stupid for thinking you'd change or that I could change you."
"I need some time for us to … heal but… I want to one day explain myself to you it's just that now…. It's not the time."
"Olivia Benson, some days I just want to give you a big hug and other days I could just smack you in the head…" it sounded harsh but there was a light-hearted laugh attached from her ex-girlfriend.
Olivia sniffed. "I'm sorry, I have to live with what I did to you and I need you to know that maybe it won't fix how you feel, but I am so sorry."
"I'll live…" she murmured. "Call me when you feel like you can…" her voice was resolute, like she was done talking, as though for once the calls and texts might stop – like they'd reached some kind of understanding. "I'm always here for you, Olivia, I hope you know that, if you need me."
"Me too…" she wiped her eyes, "I'm here too, if you need me…"
She hung up feeling worse. She went to have a shower and to wipe off the days make up and eat a pathetic dinner paired with her favourite wine; two glasses down and a third to make the day go away, she thought, hauling herself toward her bedroom ready an early day.