Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Part 1

He hears murmurs around the hospital, the advantage of being able to sneak up on people despite being conspicuous. He knows the newest addition to the consultants has caused quite a stir. On her first shift he had to intervene, despite knowing the atriocaval shunt was the right call, she had been reckless, she had overruled Jac Naylor of all people. She was one to watch. He sees them, when they first meet, a handshake over a fuming car. This could go two ways, he muses to himself. Two driven, passionate women, if they end up working together it could end in flames, or it could be a dream.

He is glad, he decides, that they have started to form a friendship before being thrown into surgery together. If they immediately saw each other as rivals, there was a potential for sparks to fly. But Ms Wolfe’s first shift on AAU runs smoothly. The scrub nurses mentioned light hearted conversation and flirting over a tendon repair. The same man who had served the divorce papers. Cups of tea and becoming fully paid members of the embittered ex-wives club.

When news reaches him of the upset on Keller, after Bernie’s soon to be ex turns up, and the rumours of infidelity are confirmed, he worries. He ponders how Serena will react, having been cheated on before, finding out she’s been lied to by one she considers a friend. Another part of him wonders, in light of the recent revelations about Bernie’s sexuality, if this could be heading to an office romance. How would that affect the dynamics of the hospital. He sighs, lining up the pencil with the others on his desk. He doesn’t like baggage.

He approaches Bernie about overseeing the ward, looking out for Serena when she gets back to work. But why does she not tell Serena? Has she not learnt that Serena’s one pet peeve, well it’s more than that, is lying? Has he got yet another consultant clash on his hands? The conversation at the end of the day makes him smile. Serena putting aside her pride and allowing an ‘equal’ to co-lead. How delightfully unexpected.

He gathers snippets of information, when you have many sources it’s easy to see the bigger picture. And he sees it before they do, from afar. Serena asking him for a trauma unit, Bernie not being interested unless her co-lead is on board. The subtle change in her face when she discovers what happened. He writes to make sense of things, to get the jumbled thoughts in his head into an order, organised and crystal clear. 

There’s a not so subtle change. They start to avoid one another, there are awkward exchanges and stilted conversations in the lifts. They maintain the utmost professionalism, which causes alarm bells to ring. He looks back to when it started. The day of Fletch’s stabbing. They had both operated, an emotionally charged environment. He puts a question mark. He hears nothing through his usual channels, but Ric seems to be watching both of them with a curious, amused expression. 

Kiev. He shows it to Bernie, sees the glances over his shoulder. It’s a push, for both of them. He’s impatient, they’ve been out to dinner, the awkwardness is thawing, they need to sort out their priorities. He hates loose ends. Had he got it wrong? Maybe they had argued that day in theatre, blaming each other for the harm that had come to their colleague. Maybe he’d just presented Bernie with the perfect escape. 

She had left, and Serena’s mood turned sour. Maybe there was hope, after all. From his information he could deduce she was missing her. Why was Bernie staying out there? He hadn’t got it wrong, he was sure. He picks up his pen. An email address. 

He counts down the days to her return, has contingency plans. He doesn’t hear much that day, so he goes to AAU at the end of the shift. Jason is grinning, he turns to look in the same direction in time to see the blinds being frantically closed. He smiles, a twitch at the corner of his mouth. His work here done, maybe this was one workplace romance that would be good for the hospital, after all. 

Part 2

He can see the grief is taking its toll on both of the surgeons, and he knows Serena needs to go, find peace with the world before she can find peace with the hospital. He manages to help her see that she can and will get better, not back to before, but a new normal. He hopes that she will return. If nothing else she is an excellent surgeon and an asset to the hospital.

He doesn’t know how to reach out to Bernie. She is throwing herself into her work. Nothing left for her at home, he understands. Occasionally he sees her greet Jason in the corridors, they seem to have maintained their friendship. She joins her staff in Albie’s, laughing and joking but there is a faraway look in her eyes. A longing. 

She is missing Serena, he doesn’t know if they are in touch. Occasionally he thinks she might be in a better mood. Could she have spoken to Serena that day? Who knows. 

Disaster strikes. Another young life lost. Another operation for Bernie on someone close to her. This one is not successful. He announces to the hospital, looks over the sad faces before him, picking out the top of Bernie’s head. She is leaning against the wall, head down, dejected. 

She has lost the passion for Holby. He can see that. She is resilient, she keeps going for the trauma unit. He comes out of the board meeting with a grim face. She will have nothing left. 

He waits most of the day. He expected her sooner, but irony upon irony, on its dying day the trauma unit performs at its best. On a soldier to top it all off. 

Ric wants to keep Bernie in the hospital. For someone who clashed with her more than anyone, that is big. Deep down, he knows she wouldn’t stand for that. He doesn’t want to lose her as a surgeon. But she won’t be happy on any other ward. Keeping her and Serena’s dream alive is what is tying her to Holby. It’s been months, Serena has been in touch. She’s doing better, but the same can’t be said for Bernie. 

The doors to his office fly open. She’s done it once before, normally reserved but anger and passion overcoming her manners. 

“Name one.”

He offers her posts that they both know she has no intention of taking. He opens his email. Sends her a link. Perhaps this will be more suited to your talents. You still have some annual leave. 

A reply, a formal letter of resignation attached. The subject makes him smile. We’ll send you a postcard. 

He hopes they will both return, happier, healthier and with a renewed passion for Holby. For now, it is time for him to face the next battle. But if those two can make it through, so can he.

Chapter Text

Spiders, clowns, monsters under the bed. That's what children should be scared of, Bernie thinks to herself as she crouches over the bed, stethoscope in her ears and taking the pulse. But the child in front of her has wide eyes, not fear, no, something more. Something deep, a visceral terror that the child probably can't name, not with words. The fear of losing their family, of being alone, in pain, dying. And what world is it where a child must experience that fear?

Bernie can fix this child, superficially. She can stitch his wounds, give some antibiotics and some fluids. She can offer soft words of comfort, a place of safety for a short while. But she cannot give him what he needs the most - assurance of a life lived without fear, constant, pressing fear. Treating children is never satisfying for her, because every child she saves is a child going back to a war torn country, once again at risk, and it breaks her heart. But it's not her job to stop the war, it is her job to minimise the consequences. So she continues, because stopping would be worse, because she needs the army, to keep her from confronting her own fear and shame.

Chapter Text

“Don’t forget, it’s Shepherd’s pie night, Auntie Serena. My shift finishes at 5:30, so I will be home by six if the buses are running on time. If not, I will text you to let you know I will be late. Have a good day off.” 

“Bye Jason,” she calls from behind the morning newspaper, sipping her coffee. She checks her watch. Bernie would be around in the afternoon. She’d had a late (or possibly early, depending on how you looked at it) finish and slept at her flat, not wanting to disturb Serena, according to the text. 

She potters round the house cleaning, putting washing in and catching up on a few medical journals. Just after lunch her phone buzzed. i’ll be at yours in 20. b x

~

“Shall we have takeaway or go out tonight?” Bernie asks almost as soon as she gets through the door. Her mind was almost always on food, Serena had discovered over the past month or so. 

“Ah, it’s Shepherd’s pie night,” 

Bernie beams. “Lovely, I’ll help you make it if you like.” 

“Oh, well, I don’t know it’s pretty simple really don’t need much help.” Her heart sinks a bit at the look of disappointment on Bernie’s face, although it is soon replaced by a bright smile. 

“Well have you got everything in for it, or shall we go to the shops this afternoon? I’ll watch Doctor Who with Jason while your busy in the kitchen.” 

“Uh, I suppose,” 

“If we haven’t got anything else planned for the afternoon…” 

They go to the supermarket, Bernie scooting ahead with Serena pushing the trolley. 

“What veg do you normally put in? Obviously we’ll need the mince too. Don’t want to change it from what Jason is used to. So, carrots? Peas? I add celery, but that’s a bit more unusual.” 

Serena gapes, feeling like she’s been caught in some sort of hurricane. She often found that around Bernie. When she’s getting excited by things she never stops. Bernie looks at her expectantly.

“No, no celery. Um yeah… carrots and peas.” 

~

The meat and veg are laid out on the side and Bernie hovers by Serena, waiting for instructions it seems. She looks at everything on the side, hoping for a flash of inspiration. 

“You do the potatoes, I’ll prep the veg?” She hopes that’s the easy option, she remembers the last time she attempted mash and thinks it’s probably best to leave that to Bernie. They start, and soon Bernie has got the potatoes into a pan of water and has sourced a frying pan. 

She scrapes the onion chopped by Serena into it, opening the pack of mince. 

“Would you get your tomato puree and Worcestershire sauce out?” Bernie asks. Shit. Bernie turns, noticing Serena hasn’t moved. She tilts her head questioningly. “You should have said you’d run out when we were at the shop! Are you okay, Serena? You seem quiet today.” 

She can see the concern in Bernie’s eyes, and she blushes. 

“I’m fine, I uh, have a bit of a confession,”  

The confusion is clear in Bernie’s face. She turns the gas down, and has a serious expression. 

“I…I don’t normally make the shepherd’s pie…” she feels silly, like she has deceived Bernie, although she never actually said she could cook. “I buy the premade one. It’s not really part of my skill set.” 

“What, shepherd’s pie?” 

“No, just…cooking in general.” 

“You mean to say that the great Serena Campbell lives off takeaways and ready meals?” There’s no malice or teasing in her voice, maybe a slight smug tone. She nods, a small coy smile. 

“Maybe we could do it together?” 

“Yes, I’d like that.”

Chapter Text

Bernie - Sharing a drink

"To Artie," Bernie clinks her glass against Fletch's and they sigh. It feels like death is following her around. It's so frustrating, being back in the NHS with so many more resources, more time and yet she still couldn't help. Couldn't help Artie, couldn't help Elinor. Can't help Serena.

"You alright boss?"

"Depends what you mean by that." She surprises herself with the answer. To everyone else, on any other day she'd have nodded and smiled.

"You can't stay strong for everyone all the time. I know that better than most. If you want to talk, well, I've got all night. Raf's sorting the kids."

"I know it's nothing in comparison..." Fletch stops her with a stern gaze.

"Your feelings are just as valid and important, even if it seems like others have it worse."

She chuckles. "You should retrain as a therapist."

"Can you imagine me counselling people! No, I'd be awful. But I'm a friend with an ear to listen. So how about we get a bottle and a couple of glasses?"

"You're only saying that because I'm having to pay, aren't you?" She retorts but she catches the eye of the bartender anyway. A drink and a chat is something she's missed over the past few weeks. Although deep down she knows really that her present company isn't going to replace everything that she's missing.

"I feel guilty, you know?"

"About Elinor? You were operating-"

"On Jason, yes I know. I've told myself that, Serena's told me that. But it's me that caused the rift in the first place. If-"

"If you weren't around, Elinor and Serena would have fallen out about something else. Trust me, they always had a...turbulent relationship. Have done for a as long as I've known Serena, and more."

He pours the glass of wine for her, and one for himself.

"You two need to stay strong in this. I don't mean stiff upper lip and no talking about emotions. I mean your relationship, honesty and talking about your emotions. How do you feel about her?"

"I love her," the response comes so easily, despite their seemingly short relationship. "And I miss her."

That doesn't seem to cover it, for her. Does she wish this had never happened? Of course, but that's not what she means. She doesn't miss the  'old Serena', doesn't love her any less because she is still Serena, her Serena in another circumstance. She blurts out these words to Fletch, trying to say what she means. The wine flows, she's probably had most of the bottle (so much for sharing), and she looks at Fletch, asking wordlessly if he wants another.

"You'd better be getting back, I'll call you a cab."

She gives him her own address. Serena wanted to be alone and she can't show up drunk in the middle of the night. That's not fair, and she would mess up any words she tries to say. But she makes the resolve to open up, look out for Serena and show her that she wants her, no matter what she throws at Bernie, she'll take it because she loves her.

Serena - an absent look or touch

"Oh I wish she was here," she sighs as she tips back the wine. Fletch nods sympathetically, doesn't quite have the words to comfort her. There isn't anything anyone could say. No 'it's only 4 weeks until you see each other' because they have no plans. Serena can't leave Holby at the drop of a hat, on top of being CEO she won't do that to Jason, especially not now the baby is on its way. And Bernie can't leave Nairobi just weeks after turning up to open a trauma unit.

"How are you finding being back at work?"

There are too many hidden questions there that, she isn't quite ready to answer. How is it being back in the place where Elinor died? Where she bullied Jasmine and can now never fully apologise? Where Raf lost his life? How is it coming back to a place where she is barely remembered because her staff have moved on, the trauma unit she, they, built together has been torn down?

"Serena?" She didn't realise she'd not answered, had been staring into her glass without taking a sip.

"I'm glad to be getting my hands dirty again, although it's been good to have a break."

A superficial answer, she would stop there but she's had a couple of glasses and the words are spilling over.

"It's not the same place. In some ways it's good, you know. No pitying looks, people treading round you because of Ellie and how I was...but also..."

"You feel like it's not home anymore?"

"No, it's not that. It is still Holby, some different people and there's Jason and Greta now. And medicine is what I need to do, what I love. The surgery, the patients, everything. But there's something missing."

"Someone, you mean."

She glances at him, Fletch may like to think he isn't good at the whole 'emotional support' but he is a good listener.  

"The first time I was back in surgery, so familiar in AAU, I forgot. I looked up and I expected to see her across the table. It's not like I needed her, it wasn't a difficult operation, but it took me a second to realise it wasn't her eyes between the scrub mask and cap."

Fletch refills her glass, emptying the bottle but she's sure he's not drunk half of it.

"It'll take some time, the whole hospital has been turned inside out since you left. But you'll get back into it. We're all glad to have you here."

She pats his hand in thanks and sighs. "I just wish I knew when I would be able to look into her eyes again."

Chapter Text

She’s not sure where she is, she’s never run through this part of Holby before. But she needed to go, get rid of the stifling atmosphere that has settled around her. A sense of failure, grief, loss crushing her from all angles. She supposes it all stems from Elinor. Could she have saved her? You were operating on Jason, Elinor wasn’t your patient, you did everything, no one’s to blame. And then she couldn’t help Serena. She needed to go, it’s not your job to heal her. Now Jasmine has gone. On her table, in her theatre. Six hours, what else could you have done? She’d lost too much blood already. 

So she runs. She runs until there’s a raw, metallic taste in her mouth, until her legs are numb and her vision is starting to blur. She’s been here before, not in Holby but thousands of miles away, when she would run in the camp gym, the window showing a dusty red expanse. Empty, dead, dry. It reflected the mood, after they’d lost one of their own. 

Now her surroundings jar with how she feels. The beautiful English countryside. Trees, bushes, grass. Luscious and blossoming and so, so green. A colour that represents new life, growth, harmony. To Bernie it’s as if Mother Nature is laughing at her. Showing her all of the beauty of creation, taunting her that all this can be created and yet ripped away so cruelly and quickly. 

She looks around for some indication of where to go next, but there’s nothing. Green, green and more green, meeting a pale blue sky. Endless possibilities or complete restriction, with no promise of any way out. It feels like a reflection of her life right now. Stuck in an open space. Only one thing to do. One foot in front of another, and see where it takes her.

Chapter Text

She should be happy. Things are better, she knows that. And she is, in a way. She is in a great position at Holby, deputy CEO, top vascular surgeon, well-renowned and respected. She has a wonderful AAU family, great friends and the Fletchlings bring so much joy to her. There is rarely a day goes by that she doesn’t laugh, genuine, out loud and warming her through. But as quickly as a burst of laughter comes it fades from her lips, her eyes. She’s left with nothing.

Things with Robbie are fine. Just fine. So it’s not the awkward, nervous teenage love. They’re too old for that. But is there passion, fire burning between the two of them. She can’t say for sure. Maybe he feels it. She couldn’t say how she feels. Is it love? Would she ever really know? How does anyone know?

And there’s Jason. A secret from her mother, she expected something, but to find out she had a sibling, has a living relative was more than she thought her mother could keep from her. Things are better than immediately after Adrienne’s death. She can build a relationship with Jason, connect to the family she never knew she had, and build a relationship with Robbie, because isn’t that what she wants? Someone to while away her years with, now Ellie is independent and with retirement on the vague horizon.

She should be happy. But is she?

She has happy moments, when the buzz at the edge of her mind recedes just a small amount. When she momentarily forgets herself and things aren’t so bad. But does she feel? She can’t bring herself to feel. There is a void. She can’t explain it, she just knows it’s there. A gaping hole that she doesn’t know how to fill. She wants to fill it. To feel whole. To feel like a part of this world she’s in. But she’s only ever a spectator. Life rushes around her. Days pass but she is stood still. Time is running away, and what does she do to fill it?

She gets by. She does what’s necessary. She works, she never loses her touch in theatre. She turns up to work and smiles at patients and laughs at Fletch’s jokes. She helps Morven with her studying, teaching her and giving her a shoulder to cry on when it seems too much. She’s there, and people reach out and she connects to them. She never connects with them. She doesn’t feel anything, she only knows how she should feel, how she must respond.

She forces herself. She goes to Albie’s, goes out with Robbie, attends seminars, meets up with old friends. It’s exhausting, to always be doing and putting out that appearance, seeming fine, happy, full of life. There are things she needs to do. She puts them off, she looks at piles of research that she needs to read. She stares at pages in books, flicking through before getting bored. She wants something to fill the time. There’s nothing.

She stays up late, not knowing why. Sleep would stop the despair of not feeling, but sleep eludes her. She presses against Robbie, snoring gently beside her, and stares at the ceiling, long after he has fallen asleep. It’s not supposed to be like this. There’s no reason to be like this. She’ll be up at the crack of dawn, coffee on before slumping on the sofa and flicking mindlessly through the morning paper. No news story holds her interest anymore.

She knows what’s wrong. She’s been here before, but there was always something she could pin it to, that would get better and it would go away. She didn’t know if there was anything this time.

Her car breaks. She laughs at the ridiculousness of it. She guesses she is frustrated, she needs to see Ellie, to not disappoint her. Again. She’s always been a disappointment to Ellie, it’s her own fault. She tried so hard to not be like her own mother. And now Ellie would rather spend her time with anyone else in the world. Except if Serena doesn’t turn up, it’ll be worse.

She almost doesn’t care. Another failed relationship. Hers with Robbie is going south, and it’s difficult with Jason too. Who does she really, truly have? No one. Her friends are all work colleagues or people she was thrown together with in halls. An odd mix who would never have been friends otherwise. The women in the hospital are far from close confidantes. The closest she has is Ric, and he is barely there, dealing with estranged children and wives here there and everywhere.

The mechanics are useless and she gives up. Accepts she won’t see Ellie. She doesn’t deserve a good relationship with her daughter anyway. She knows this isn’t the right thing to think but the thought appears anyway. She knows she needs help. Who can she turn to? There is no such thing as confidentiality in a hospital. Not if you’re a staff member. Anyone working there is so bound up in not talking about patients, the only outlet they have is idle gossip. She can hear it now: Deputy CEO, depressed, how can she be trusted to lead? It can’t get out.

A voice behind her. Another interaction to force, to fake smiles with a stranger. If she can’t talk to her ‘friends’ she sure as hell won’t let on to anyone else. If this is a patient, or family member, she must be professional. It’ll cost her, the energy of being upbeat draining away.

A trauma surgeon. Berenice Wolfe. Unknown entity, with potential to be friend or foe. They shake hands, share a smile. Her own doesn’t feel so forced anymore. Hopefully friend. There is an ease about her, a confident quietness that shows she listens, understands. She yearns to reach out to her. Finds her, shares coffee. The buzz that fills her mind softens when they are together. Bernie can’t cure her. She knows that. But she makes her want to get there. She wants to see what it could be like if the dampeners aren’t there. If she lets things fill that void, could her mind be clear? She isn’t sure, but she wants to know. She wants to open the void and let herself feel again.

Chapter Text

The birth goes well, thank goodness. Baby and Greta are happy and healthy, the former maybe not so happy, judging by the loud cries coming from the side room.

Bernie and Serena approach the doors, ready to meet the latest addition to the family. Bernie stops. The family. Serena’s family.

She had returned with a hope that Serena would travel back to Nairobi. It was clear that it couldn’t happen and Bernie understood of course. But she has to go to the trauma unit that she has set up. So where does that leave them?

Serena continues, cooing over the bundle in Greta’s arms. Bernie smiles at seeing her in her element. Great Auntie Serena. They fit so well and the love on Serena’s face is clear to see. She stands in the door, leaning, trying to be inconspicuous. She doesn’t want to intrude on this family moment.

Serena notices. Of course she does. She looks up at Bernie and beckons to her. In an instant Bernie is by her side, slipping her hand into Serena’s and intertwining their fingers. She doesn’t miss the smug expression on Fleur’s face as she leaves the room.

“Sorry, I didn’t want to get in the way of your family,” she murmurs in Serena’s ear. She looks down at the baby, who is finally settling against her mother’s chest, a perfect new life. Every one is a miracle, grown from the meeting of two cells, just a jumble of chemicals to a life, body, soul with unlimited potential.

“No, Bernie,” Serena whispers back. “Our family.”

The reassurance warms her, but there is a voice at the back of her mind. Jason comes first. Always. This was Serena’s place, her new life after Elinor. Bernie can’t ask her to choose. She won’t ask her to choose.

Marcus had put her in that position. The guilt was awful. You don’t do that to someone you love.

They leave the new parents, let Greta rest. Serena is animated, Bernie hasn’t seen her like this since…well since they parted ways all those months ago. The life and joy in Serena is radiant and beautiful and she can feel herself falling more in love.

In the privacy of their office, Serena stops and takes Bernie’s hands in her own.

“What’s wrong, Bernie?”

“You’re not coming to Nairobi,” she started, then cursed under her breath. This was why she hated talking, she couldn’t express herself right. “Wait, no, that’s not. What I mean is that you staying, with Jason and Greta and the baby is right. It’s where you need to be. And I need to be in Nairobi, and, you know…”

She trails off, taking a deep breath. Serena doesn’t speak, letting her collect her thoughts and finish.

“The email, with the bullet points,” she smiles slightly, they have begun to see it as a joke, a fond memory. “Can we carry on, I mean, if we don’t see each other?”

She feels the panic rising, her eyes wildly searching Serena’s for a hint of what she’s thinking.

“Do you want to carry on?” Is all Serena asks.

“Of course, yes, I love you but-”

“Well would you believe me if I said I want that too?” Bernie nods. “Good, because I have been told that a relationship is more than seeing each other. It’s attachment and commitment. And despite it being from Sacha who is not known for his success in the relationship department, I think that advice is sound.”

She leans towards Bernie and their lips meet fleetingly.

“I am rather attached to you, you know,” she smirks.

“I know, but I don’t want you to feel like you have to choose between me and them.”

“Why would it be between you? I choose both,” she says decisively. “It will settle and we will be together somewhere in the world at some point.”

Serena glances out of the blinds. Bernie follows her gaze and can see Fleur and Donna watching, trying but failing to be subtle.

“And I’m committed to you, Bernie. I would consider getting down on one knee if we weren’t being watched. I’d never live it down if you had to pull me back to my feet.”

Bernie doesn’t really hear the end of the sentence. Surely that’s not what Serena meant?

“Bernie?”

She blinks, wants to pinch herself and check she’s awake.

“Do you mean that? Are you…”

“Would it convince you that I’m serious about you, and want to be with you in whatever way possible? Because if it would then yes, I’m proposing. Berenice bloody Wolfe, will you marry me at some unknown point of time in the future?”

Her heart is in her mouth. She almost doesn’t dare to believe it. She wants to tell Serena she’s mad. Her automatic flight instincts bubble up, the voice telling her she’ll mess things up, ruin it. But Serena has helped her to control that need to flee, and she hears the word from her lips, almost a croak.

“Yes.”

Chapter Text

Serena knows Bernie won’t be there when she wakes up. She had slowly drifted into a semblance of sleep at about two in the morning, and Bernie had been stubbornly pretending to not be staring at the ceiling. Every time Serena had awoken after a fitful dream – you’ve forgotten the turkey, you’re cooking and suddenly you don’t know where your clothes are, on and on – Bernie was too still, breathing a little too deeply to be believable.

The alarm rings, not usual for a day off, but this is no ordinary day off. As predicted, the bed is empty beside her. A scrawled note on the bedside table confirms it. It’s her way of dealing with and distracting herself from the anxiety of the day ahead. They’d distracted each other several times over the night before but Bernie needed to prepare herself.

It wasn’t a regular occurrence; over the past few weeks they had woken in each other’s arms almost every day, save for a few opposite shifts where one was returning as the other left for a night on the ward. She’s not sure what time Bernie left, no clue when she’ll be back, but she can’t stay in bed. There’s too much to do, although just like every year everything is as prepared as possible. The house is clean from top to bottom – but I’d better just run a duster over the guest room – the veg are chopped – but I need to make sure we’ve got enough – and the cake has been iced since the beginning of December.

She potters, checking her watch constantly. The door clicks open, the jangle of keys accompanied by tinny music from headphones and panting. Bernie enters the kitchen, an apologetic smile on her face. Serena shakes her head fondly, pecks her on the lips and points her towards the shower. The coffee is brewing and she busies herself with breakfast. Scrambled eggs, smoked salmon, bucks fizz. It’s a special day, after all.

Bernie appears, glowing from the shower and exercise, and pulls Serena close.

“Merry Christmas, darling.”

She melts slightly at hearing those words from Bernie’s lips. It’s still a surprise, still feels like a dream.

“Sorry, I had to…”

Serena cuts her off with a kiss. She knows - they are both on edge about later. It’s the first time Bernie will meet Elinor, the first time Serena will meet Charlotte. It’s the first Christmas Bernie has spent with her children in years. She needed to run to burn off the nervous energy. It’s the only time Serena has ever wished she could run like that, because she is wound up tight, a coil ready to spring.

It will be okay, she reminds herself, at the end of the day, Bernie will still be here. And that’s all that really matters to her. Because although the day started with an empty bed, it won’t end that way. Serena somehow knows, deep in her heart that while Bernie will go for many more runs, she will never run away from her.

Chapter Text

I

Bernie feels like she’s in a dream. Well, almost. She’s not sure why her subconscious would put her in such a mundane setting. Except there is nothing mundane about this, despite her turning up for another shift at Holby. She is arriving with Serena. Very early, but with Serena none the less. After a week of kisses, of tears, of talking, of nerves, of firsts. And now another first: arriving on shift together. She smiles as she gets out of the car and reaches out as Serena joins her. They haven’t really been out together, the rota preventing them from being on the same shift until now, and their free time together had been spent rather more occupied in one or another of their houses. Now Bernie feels the pull that has always been there, that need to touch Serena, be close to her, and she can. But as soon as her fingers brush Serena’s they are pulled away, and it feels empty. She feels her face fall, can’t help it but she tries to continue as normal.

“Are you in a hurry?”

“Oh well, you know me, like to lead by example,” Serena is walking briskly, just a slight step ahead.

“But we’re half an hour early,” she states, knows that Serena is covering up but doesn’t want to hear the real reason. She knows, deep down what it is. She speeds up, but Serena calls her back.

“It only takes one monkey for the jungle drums to start beating around here.”

And there it is. She doesn’t want to be seen. Bernie understands, of course, it’s hard to be visible especially in a place of work that relies on respect and reputation. She berates the small, selfish part of her that is deflated, because she doesn’t want to have to hide herself anymore. That isn’t fair though, not on Serena. It’s new for both of them and they’ve got to find a way that works, slowly but surely. So, she agrees, and continues, hoping the time will come soon. The job calls.

II

A rare day off together a few weeks later sees them in the town centre, buying Christmas gifts and preparing for the big day itself. And although Bernie has rarely seen Christmas as a 'big day’ in recent years, this one really is. The first time Charlotte will meet Serena, the first time she will meet Ellie. But also her first Christmas with Serena. It seems special, even if they will only have been going out for a couple of months. They walk side by side, arms brushing but she still hasn’t linked their hands. Not after that morning, because she can’t be sure. They aren’t near the hospital but still in public. She doesn’t want to take the chance and have the humiliation again. And asking feels childish, so she decides to leave it, enjoy her presence and share in her delight at the treats of the Christmas market.

“Shall we get a coffee before we start properly shopping?” Serena suggests, pointing to a little cafe across the road.

“Sounds perfect, I think we need something sugary to keep our energy up as well,” she flashes a conspiratorial smile and Serena rolls her eyes.

“Fine, coffee and a pastry, come on then.”

They stand at the curb, it’s a busy road and there seems to be no relent in the traffic.

“You’d think they’d put a crossing along here at some point,” Serena mutters. “But no, the council has far better things to spend their money on it seems. Although I’m not sure what.”

“We’ll have to make a run for it when there’s a gap,” she smiles fondly, it’s not the first time she’s heard this rant.

“Run?! That’s not really my bag I’m afraid,”

“Oh, come on, you won’t get your coffee otherwise. After this red one, okay?”

“Bernie, I don’t think-” but Bernie didn’t let her finish, grabbing her hand and pulling her along. They speed up, not quite a run but they make it across to the other side and Bernie laughs.

“See, plenty of time,” she grins then is suddenly as aware that their fingers are linked. She looks down at them, starts to loosen her grip and apologise but Serena shakes her head and squeezes tight before turning towards the cafe. She pushes the door, a small bell announcing their arrival.

Bernie rarely lets go for the rest of the day, revelling in the feeling of walking through the streets, hands together, arms linked. The ease of it, not worrying what people think, surprises her but it feels so natural. She can’t quite believe her luck.

III

The silence in the house is stifling, oppressing, catching in Bernie’s throat. It’s the silence of not knowing what to say, but desperately wanting to say something. Any time she tries the words die on her lips. Because what can you say to someone who is about to bury their daughter? They haven’t said much in the past two weeks. She can only feel grateful that this means Serena hasn’t told her to go, that it’s her fault and it’s best they don’t see each other.

Each night Serena has laid next to Bernie, silent tears rolling down her cheeks, pretending to be asleep. And all Bernie can do is be there, to comfort her and help Jason’s recovery as best she can while Serena and Edward plan the funeral. And now that day is here. And Bernie doesn’t know what to do except make a breakfast she knows no-one will eat and water the flowers that are starting to look tired. She knows how they feel.

She drives Jason to the church, he doesn’t want to go in the car following the hearse, and Bernie doesn’t want to intrude on Serena and Edward. They may no longer be close but this is still something they should do together. She stands with the other mourners outside, all unfamiliar faces. She presumes some are friends of Elinor’s, maybe some are Edward’s family. She wonders if they know her, or at least of her. The knot in her stomach pulls tighter and she is unsure. What will Serena want of her? She wants to support her, be a shoulder to cry on but they are still a relatively new couple and she doesn’t want to be a cause of more anxiety and emotion for Serena.

Ushers direct them into the church and Jason asks where they should sit.  She shrugs, maybe the second row, but they see Liberty taking her place in the front pew and Jason decides to follow suit, although on the other side of the church.

The procession is solemn, they stand and Bernie looks back down the aisle. Serena is expressionless, her eyes unfocused. Edward’s hand hovers at her elbow, but they don’t touch. His face is set, determined, although his eyes are red rimmed, large bags underneath.

The coffin is set down and the last note from the organ rings out. Serena and Edward separate, and Bernie offers Serena a brief squeeze on her shoulder before sitting. She barely hears the words of the opening prayer, trying to work out what she should do, to let Serena know she is there but not to force her into anything. She settles on leaving her hand palm up in her laptop, tilted slightly towards Serena for her to take if she wants.

A moment later cool skin meets her own, their fingers entwining. Serena grips her throughout, and as the vicar closes the service their eyes briefly meet. She can see a plea, through the tears, a glance down at their joined hands and she knows, somehow, that Serena doesn’t want her to let go.

IV

Jasmine disappears back to the stairwell after thanking Serena and nodding at Bernie. Then they are alone, on the roof. Bernie’s heart is still pounding, the sick feeling in her stomach not settling. She needs to be close to Serena, convince herself this isn’t a dream. But she stays a few paces away, unsure.

“Should I go?”

Serena smiles softly, shaking her head.

“There’s another chair behind that vent. If you’re not busy.”

Moments later Serena is throwing the blankets over Bernie and she places her hand palm up in her lap. Serena takes it, her skin like ice against Bernie’s. They sit in silence for a while, looking up at the emerging stars. She wonders what this means, for Serena, for them. She knows things can’t continue as they are. Serena isn’t happy and Bernie can’t do anything to change that. She can only offer herself as a…she doesn’t know. Whatever Serena needs, because imagining her life without Serena in it, in any way, is impossible. But she doesn’t ask, not at first. She merely trails over Serena’s knuckles with her thumb.

“So, you’ve even got your own pigeon?”

She breaks the silence and for a few moments they forget. Forget the events of the day, of the last few months, of what needs to be said. Until the conversation ends and she feels the weight settle again. And there’s no avoiding it this time.

“Is this where you tell me that you want to go on a sabbatical?”

And there it was. Not a promise as such, but a hope. But Serena never removes her hand from Bernie’s grip, and that’s what Bernie holds on to, when she starts to doubt. A soft kiss and a squeeze of her hand are the confirmation from Serena that she wants this to work out, even if they don’t know how or when.

V

She lets Serena cry, holding her until she stops shaking. The sounds of AAU, of Greta’s pain through the contractions, fade out as Serena raises her head from her shoulder and she links their hands across Bernie’s knee.

She focuses on their thumbs, fighting for dominance because she can’t look at Serena. She knows what is about to be said, what they are both thinking. She feels Serena taking a breath. She always was better at the words. Bernie now wishes she wasn’t.

“It’s not going to work is it?”

She doesn’t know anything anymore. Except that she loves Serena. What was it that Greta had said? The greatest love affair of her life. That sounds about right. But there isn’t a way through this. Because Greta was right, statistically they should have broken up already. And realistically, they are, because they haven’t been talking, not like couples do.

Fleur appears, and it’s a relief because Bernie is so close to tears. Then she realises what Fleur’s appearance means. That Serena is going, that she will let go of her hand and go to her family. But she nods, releases her fingers and watches Serena go.

She doesn’t like goodbyes, has said too many of them in her life. She prefers to slip away without having to answer questions. Jason would have a lot of questions. She can’t invade on that family moment. She isn’t family.

She flexes her fingers. She can still feel the warmth of Serena’s hand, lingering on her skin, gradually fading. She doesn’t know whether she will see Serena again, but she has to leave. The farewell would be too painful.

+ I

Bernie can’t believe it’s only been 24 hours since she stepped onto the plane in Nairobi. She is simultaneously wired with energy and about to crash from fatigue. They come out of Greta’s surgery, change back into civilian clothes and visit Jason and Guinevere. Jason’s joy at becoming a father radiates and Bernie is filled with love. They take photos with the new baby, then as a group when Greta returns from the recovery ward.

It’s getting late and Serena is the one to suggest they leave. Jason and Greta both look like they need the sleep and Bernie feels the same. She has gone through every emotion she could name and more today, but she is finishing the day with pure happiness. Things will work out, because she loves Serena and Serena loves her. It is enough. They collect their bags from the office and as Serena locks the door Bernie reaches for her.

They walk through the hospital hand in hand, not caring who sees anymore. Besides they gave them much more of a show in the foyer. She glances back as they reach the door, her old domain feels different, new staff, new dynamics with Serena at the helm. But it’s still the ward where she fell in love, will always be in her heart.

Serena tightens her grip, bringing her back to reality. It grounds her, a promise that she returns. That they will wait and there will be a time when they walk hand in hand again.

Chapter Text

“We’ve just had some important news in. If you are needing emergency hospital treatment today please go to St James Emergency Department. Holby City has been closed for security reasons, we don’t have details yet but all elective operations are cancelled and ambulances diverted. There are unconfirmed reports of shots being fired…..” 

She doesn’t hear the rest of the report, the mug in her hands drops to the floor and she feels sick. Her feet take her to the door, she somehow manages to find her bag and shoes, get to the car and drive to the hospital. Everything around her is a blur, she probably shouldn’t be driving but there’s only one thought in her mind. Bernie is there. Bernie is at the hospital. 

Bernie would of course be putting everyone else before herself. It’s what she loves about her, but if that translates into a complete lack of self-preservation…Serena doesn’t want to think about that. 

It doesn’t occur to her that this will be the first time at the hospital since she left for sabbatical. She had been in England for a few months, but still wasn’t ready to face Holby. Until now, because she had to be there, to see for herself. To help the hospital in its crisis. 

There are patients and staff outside, evacuated. Some former colleagues notice her, greet her but it’s all buzzing in her ears. Until she hears those three letters. AAU. Her head spins, trying to concentrate on what the nurse is saying. 

“The doors to the ward are locked. They can’t evacuate.”

She tries to find a familiar face, hopes it’s not true, that they’re talking about a different ward. 

Police enter the hospital. The minutes pass, dragging out slowly until it feels to Serena as if time has stopped. She tries to help, but she can’t focus on anything. 

All at once there is a flurry of activity from the police stationed outside. She can’t hear what’s being said on the radios but they seem to visibly relax and there is movement inside. Reporters stand to attention, cameramen following close to catch the moment. 

It’s chaos, but Serena only has one thing in mind. Messy blonde hair. She cranes to catch a glimpse.

“Serena?!” 

She prays she’s not imagining it, that it really is Bernie calling out to her in surprise. She pushes through towards her voice. 

“What happened?” She asks the question without really wanting an answer. She doesn’t realise she’s asked it, is only concentrating on getting to Bernie, confirming she’s real with a more reliable sense than sight and hearing. 

“We had to shut down the ward, one patient wasn’t stable enough to leave. Donna and I stayed hidden so we could-” 

Serena doesn’t let her finish. There will be time for talking later, all she feels now is relief. She pulls Bernie close, stopping her mid-sentence with a collision of lips. It’s messy and desperate, she can taste the salt of her tears, isn’t sure if Bernie’s are mixed there as well but that doesn’t matter. She doesn’t care who’s watching, what people might say. 

She pulls back and takes a breath to calm herself. There are tears in Bernie’s eyes too. 

“I love you,” she croaks and Bernie’s face softens, but concern remains in her eyes. 

“I love you, too.”

Chapter Text

Serena sips the cup of tea, sighing for what feels like the millionth time that evening. It is a far cry from what she wishes she was drinking after a long shift, but she had agreed, and she wasn’t a quitter. Well, in a way giving up alcohol for a month did make her a quitter. 

It’s been 20 days since she started “Go Sober for October” in Arthur’s memory and it’s been the longest three weeks of her life. She has forgone Albie’s after shifts. Bernie, to her credit, has pretty much stopped drinking as well, so as not to tempt or goad, and they’d found plenty of other things to keep them occupied in the free time.

Tonight, however, Bernie is out with some of her old regiment to have a catch up. She knows she won’t be back late; some of them have young kids they want to get home for. Serena imagines what they’ll be doing now, rounds of beers, a couple of whiskeys maybe. Bernie is working tomorrow so she won’t be drunk but… 

Stop it, Serena. She berates herself, knows that the best thing would be something to take her mind off it. Surely there’ll be a repeat of a murder mystery on TV, that will keep her occupied until Bernie returns. 

The sound of keys in the door surprises her and she suppresses a smile as Bernie does her best to come in quietly. It’s lucky Jason is out because he may have had some complaints. 

“Have fun?” She says over her shoulder when she feels Bernie’s presence in the living room. In seconds she is curling into her side, an arm slipping around Serena’s waist. 

“Yes thank you. The pub was gorgeous, they’ve obviously refurbished recently and they’ve got a new gin menu with all sorts on it-” 

Serena cuts her off with a groan and Bernie ducks her head, the smell of the pub wafting to her nostrils as her hair moves. 

“Sorry, but we’ll go next month. Just think, you’ll appreciate the drink even more when this is over.” 

“It’s torture,” she moans, and Bernie smirks because this is not the first time Serena has uttered those words. According to Jason, she’d managed 33 hours without complaining she couldn’t drink (although in her defence, she’d been in a heads of department meeting). “Especially now I can smell the pub on you.” 

Bernie leans away. 

“I’ll shower, sorry darling.”

“No,” Serena pulls her back, nuzzles in to her shoulder. “No, I can pretend I was there. Maybe it will be like a placebo, I’ll trick myself into thinking I’ve had something to drink.” 

Bernie chuckles softly, knows Serena is only half joking. 

“Williams says next time you’ll have to come along. I told him you could easily drink him under the table. He was my closest rival in the regiment, reckons I’ll have lost my tolerance now I’m a civilian. I told him meeting you has kept it up.”

Serena swats her arm playfully. 

“Did you prove that to him tonight?”

She shakes her head, yawning. 

“No, just a few beers then a whisky to finish off. It was a very nice Scotch.” 

Serena doesn’t let her say anymore, is pressing their lips together and dipping her tongue into Bernie’s mouth. She moans as she tastes those last remnants of alcohol. Whisky may not be her drink of choice but the faint hint of it on her tongue is heavenly. 

Bernie pulls back for breath, puzzlement in her eyes. 

“Next time would you mind awfully having a Shiraz?”

Chapter Text

“You stupid, stupid idiot,” Serena berates herself. She’s messed it up, made a fool of herself in front of the whole ward, and she’s pushed Bernie away. To Ukraine. 

“You should have known. It scares her, all talk of feelings. You’ve scared her,” she sighs, wipes the tears. She might as well stay and get started on the mountain of paperwork, sorely neglected after the topsy turvy day they’d had. 

The night shift will be starting any moment, and she needs to stay, handover just in case there’s any aftermath from the events of the day. At least, that’s what she tells herself. In reality, she’s making excuses, to not go back to an empty house and several full bottles of Shiraz. 

She doesn’t start on the paperwork, it sits in a pile, the plain blue folders taunting her. The day plays through her mind; every moment where she pushed too far, where Bernie took a step back, until she was literally running out of the door. 

A light tap brings her back to he senses. “Come in,” she can hear the weariness in her voice. Morven pokes her head round the door, cautious. 

“Sorry to disturb, I wasn’t expecting you to still be here.” 

Serena gestures vaguely at the files on her desk, not caring that they are clearly unopened. 

“Did you want something in particular?” 

“Oh, yes well, it’s no problem if you haven’t, it’s not due for a couple of weeks but have you managed to sign off my portfolio yet? No rush, but I would like to look over it before I have to hand it in…” 

Serena rummages through her draws, finds the required forms and hands them back with a tight smile. 

Morven takes them and thanks her, then lingers as if she’s not sure what to say next. 

“Is everything alright, Ms. Campbell?”

“Hmmm?” 

“It’s just, I walked past Ms. Wolfe on the way in. She was….uh…banging her head against the steering wheel. Muttering something about ‘stupid coward’ before driving off. And you seem a little…tense.”

Serena snaps her head up at the mention of Bernie and Morven is already looking sheepish, as if she knows she’s said the wrong thing. She does her best to keep the emotion out of her voice.

“Long day, feeling a bit drained that’s all. I’d better be off,” she slams the drawer closed and Morven backs out of the office, wishing her a good night. She barely registers it. All she can think about is that Bernie might be regretting things as much as she is. 

She sweeps off the ward, ignoring anyone and knows people are jumping out of her way as she strides through hospital corridors. Her mind is made up and she’s determined that Bernie will see it. 

She knows the route well, even from the hospital. They’ve given each other lifts, shared taxis from Albie’s that drop Bernie off first. The roads are quiet and before she’s had chance to work out what she’ll say she’s pulling up onto her road. 

She parks out of view of the small semi-detached, gathering her thoughts. She checks herself in the rear view mirror, wipes away the mascara that tears carried down her cheeks. Now or never. 

She checks herself at the door, smooths down her coat and hopes her knock doesn’t betray her nerves.

Time seems to stretch out, engulfing her and allowing her brain to run through every worst case scenario. Bernie immediately shutting the door in her face, or admitting that she doesn’t feel the same about Serena once she’s poured out her heart, never seeing her again. 

“You can keep the change.”

She hadn’t registered the door opening, and suddenly Bernie is in front of her, holding out a twenty pound note. She stares at Serena, dumbstruck and she worries maybe this was the wrong thing to do. 

“You don’t have pizza,” Bernie states, and she can tell there’s a thousand questions, things she wants to say but can’t express. She clears her throat, desperate to say something but she doesn’t know where to start. 

“I’d have thought you’d be fed up with Italian after last night,” she leads, bringing a humourless chuckle from Bernie. 

“Look, Bernie, you don’t have to say anything, but Morven said you looked upset and I sort of thought, well, hoped, that you might be feeling the same as me. I want you to stay. I want to see where this might lead. If you’re going to Kiev for yourself, to work out what you want then fine. I know I went too fast, but please don’t make a decision for me.” 

She sighs, Bernie hasn’t moved, shows no sign of how she’s feeling, what she might do next. She wrings her hands together and takes a deep breath. 

“I took the secondment because I didn’t want to pressure you, Serena. I know this is new for you but it’s new for me too. I’m not sure if, well, I mean I don’t want to lose you of course but I don’t know if I can be right, for you. You’ve scared me too, and I thought Kiev might…” 

Serena’s heart drops to her stomach. This is why Bernie hasn’t invited her in, she’s breaking it off, giving them a few months apart. 

“Help you get over me?” 

She bites her lip, avoids making eye contact with Bernie because this is the second time she’s made a fool of herself today. 

“No, no I’m not explaining myself properly. When you said about falling in love, I don’t know what happened but it terrified me so I did the only thing I know, I ran. And I regret it, and now you’re here in front of me and…” 

She never finishes the sentence, before Serena realises what is happening Bernie lunges forwards. Their lips meet and she is stunned for a moment, she was so convinced Bernie was about to finish everything for good that she can’t compute this turn of events. 

Somehow her instincts kick in, as Bernie starts to pull back she melts into her, hands lifting to tangle in her curls and deepens the kiss. It’s so different to their other two kisses, still filled with emotion but no consciousness of their surroundings, just the two of them. 

There’s a polite cough from behind her and they jump apart, to find a sheepish looking delivery driver holding out a large cardboard box. Bernie blushes and holds out the note, muttering to keep the change. She looks at Serena through her fringe, a shy smile on her face. 

“Sorry, I…I knew I wasn’t making sense. I realised I was rambling and I need to shut myself up, so I…” she trails off and looks around, as if it was only just dawning on her that they were still stood on the porch. 

“Would you like to come in? I can’t offer an extensive wine list,” the smile returns and Serena beams.

“I’d love to.”