Chapter Text
« Bernie ? Are you all right ?
- What ? Yes …Yes, I’m fine.”
Bernie lifted her head from her hands and straightened her back, smiling wearily at Serena: “Just a little tired – six hours on a gunshot victim.
- Did he make it?
- Yes, he did.
- Good! Why don’t you go home and get a rest then?
- I can’t – Raf went off about half an hour ago, and the red phone could ring at any minute.
- Well, I’m here.
- I know – but you can’t do everything – it wouldn’t be fair…”
They would have gone on arguing, but the said phone rang and they both jumped up. Indeed, Serena couldn’t have coped all by herself – four victims of a car accident came in a few minutes later, and two of them needed urgent surgery. The two consultants each took command of a theatre, and Bernie rubbed her eyes tiredly before donning her mask and gloves. When she saw the gravity of the wound, she sighed – she was in at least for four more hours.
Serena managed to repair her patient’s torn aortic artery in record time, and went back to her office. Two hours passed, and there was still no sign of Bernie. Finally, Fletch informed her that the gunshot victim had suddenly developed complications, and that Bernie was back in theatre with him. Serena calculated that she must have gone straight from the traffic accident victim to her previous patient. When she arrived at the theatre, one of the nurses was just getting out to get more blood. She told Serena the patient had arrested three times during that new surgery, and added “Ms Wolfe won’t let him go though- seems a bit futile if you ask me.”
“But no one’s asking you, Nurse, so please just do your job and refrain from commenting,” answered Serena sharply. She knew all too well how dedicated her partner was – and how much she would neglect herself and prioritise her patients. As one of the doctors was coming out, she asked him for an update on the patient – apparently the nurse was right, Bernie had been battling the odds for several hours, but there could be no happy outcome. Serena decided to step in and spoke into the mike: “Ms Wolfe – can you come out for a minute please?”
When she answered, Bernie sounded definitely cross: “Can’t you see I’m busy?
- I can see that – well, I’m sorry, but I have to insist – Ms Wolfe, I would like you to stop and step out please – your patient has now been out for thirty minutes, you have to call it.
- I don’t.
- Ms Wolfe – in Mr Hanssen’s absence, I am in charge – this is not a request – this is an order.” Serena hated to treat Bernie like this in front of the surgical team, but she could see no other way. She had to wait a full fifteen minutes before her partner came out of the theatre, and glared furiously at her : “How dare you speak to me like this?
- I dare because right now, I’m your superior, Ms Wolfe. Would you like to discuss this further in the office?
- The hell I would!” And Bernie stalked away, throwing her mask and gown out on the floor.
She knew Serena wouldn’t let the matter go, so she couldn’t go back to their office. She found refuge in the locker room, where she sat down heavily on the bench and put her head in her hands. She would never get used to losing a patient – never; it never got any easier, especially when the deceased was young. She knew she’d done her best, but … She realised she was shaking. Her head pounded, and she felt a little nauseous.
When Serena found her, Bernie was almost curled up on the bench, shaking. Serena felt herself soften, but she steeled herself to chastise her partner.
“Bernie?”
The other woman didn’t look up.
“Berenice ? Look at me, please.”
The hazel eyes which focused on Serena’s were red-rimmed and underlined by deep dark shadows.
“How long since you’ve had anything to eat or drink?”
Still no answer from Bernie. Serena went on : “By my calculations, you’ve been operating for more than fifteen hours straight, without a break – which is not only totally against hospital policies but bloody stupid! What are you waiting for? Do you really want to pass out in theatre? And you were on call last night too, which means you haven’t slept for what? Three days straight? Do you realise how irresponsible this is?”
“Wouldn’t be the first time” murmured Bernie sulkily.
“Maybe – but there’s no way I’m going to let you neglect yourself like that – and you know it.”
Bernie lowered her eyes again. She knew that Serena was right – she wasn’t in med school anymore, or during her first tours, when she’d been young and reckless. She ought to know better. She just wasn’t used to having someone worry about her. Marcus hadn’t known what she did, and Alex …well, they were both hotheads, and they were both in the same boat …or more accurately, in the same war zone. She was well aware that working when you were overtired led to mistakes, but something in her always wanted to earn her stripes, to show she was up to the job. Too many people had told her she would never amount to anything – it was hard to forget… Her father’s harsh words …the English teacher at school …She brushed her face with her hand, as if she could wipe out the memories. Serena’s voice brought her back to the present: “You need to eat, and you need to sleep. Now. I don’t have time to take you home, and you’re in no fit state to drive, but there’s a free on-call room. You’re going to rest. Then we’ll have a little …talk.”
Bernie swallowed audibly – she knew all too well what the “talk” would entail, especially with Serena in that kind of mood…She was so tired, however, that she couldn’t argue – she wouldn’t risk falling asleep at the wheel. So she rose and followed Serena meekly to the on-call room, where she didn’t even bother to undress. When Serena came back a quarter of an hour later with a sandwich and coffee, Bernie was already fast asleep. She put the sandwich on the bedside table and went back to her office.
Bernie woke up four hours later, feeling both rumpled and refreshed. She looked at her shirt and grimaced – she ought to go home and change, really, but she also ought to go back to work. She would grab a shower and fresh scrubs, it would do for the day. She left the now cold coffee but managed a few bites of the sandwich. When she was overtired, she had no appetite, and she ate only to keep her strength up. She glanced in the mirror. The deep shadows still underlined her eyes, and fatigue lines were etched in her face. She took a deep breath and headed for the shower. At least she could freshen up a little before going to see Serena.
Bernie repaired her make-up as best as she could – she never brought a full kit to the hospital – there hadn’t been much call for eyeshadow and rouge on the battlefield. She went heavy on the concealer, well aware that Serena would see through the war paint – sometimes she actually thought Serena could see straight into her soul…
When she arrived in their shared office, she found a note propped up a chocolate muffin: “I’m sure you won’t have eaten the sandwich, but you won’t resist chocolate. I’ve arranged your schedule so you can get off early. I forbid you to work late tonight. I’ll see you this evening at home – don’t think I’ve forgotten we need to have a chat. Serena xx.” Bernie sighed – as if she could forget …But Serena was right – she could never resist sugar – she almost inhaled the muffin while switching her computer on and looking at her day’s schedule.
Her weariness didn’t disappear, however, and after her second operation of the day, she almost stumbled out of theatre – if Raf hadn’t been there to catch her, she would have fallen. Unluckily for her, the next person Raf saw was Serena, and he didn’t resist a little dig: “I don’t know what you and Bernie do at night, but you need to calm it down - she looks like the walking dead.” The icy glance Serena gave him made him stop right there and there. She had calmed down a little, but the remark reminded her all over again that Bernie really didn’t care about her own health and well-being. She sighed – she didn’t like what she had to do, but …