Chapter Text
“Is Dr Asher with you?”
Archer paces back and forth in front of Med’s ambulance bay, asking the same question to every medic he sees. Last he heard, they were still trying to extricate Tessa from the car and Hannah was with her. As soon as rescue teams made it to the crash scene, two paramedics ran out of one of the multiple ambulances and requested to take Jesse to Med. Despite Archer’s reluctance to leave without Hannah, he also didn’t want to leave the terrified little boy alone and so, after the medics had snapped a C-collar on his neck and carefully taken the child out of his car seat and onto a stretcher, Archer had climbed into the back of Ambo 117 with him.
The entire ride had felt like hours but it was nothing compared to waiting for news from the crash once they got to Med. With every ambulance stopping, his pulse races as he cranks his neck to try and spot a blonde head amidst the arrivals.
“They’re in the next one,” 154’s Courtney tells him as she carries in her arms what he assumes is the newborn Hannah delivered. “77 was working on the mom when we left. Didn’t look good,” she adds, somber.
His heart sinks. Somewhere inside, Jesse and his dad are waiting in one of the treatment rooms. They met Jared as soon as they arrived at Med. Literally. He’d been waiting for his wife in front of the ambulance bay but the poor man got the worst surprise of his life when he spotted his son being wheeled out of an ambulance on a stretcher. As they took Jesse into a treatment room, Dean quickly introduced himself to Jared and explained what had happened.
Dean has to give it to the man. Despite being frantic and asking about his wife every chance he got, he managed to stay relatively poised in front of his son. He stayed with them as Trini and Dr Frost got the little boy situated, waving away the nurse when she asked to take a look at his right arm, covered with scrapes from the airbag being deployed. He headed back outside as soon as he was sure father and son were alright.
For what feels like the millionth times today, he hears sirens coming from afar. The ambulance appears almost instantly, sharply turning into the roadway leading to Med. Seconds later, Archer runs behind the rig as it stops in front of the entrance. He reaches the back door right just as the driver jumps out.
He doesn’t remember opening it but the chaos inside is unforgettable. Hannah is on top of the woman he recognizes as the mother, her legs straddled on each side of the motionless body as she performs chest compressions. The other medic is bagging her. The metallic smell alone is enough to convey exactly how dire the situation is.
They pull the stretcher out of the ambo and wheel it through the door and into the emergency department as Hannah keeps pressing relentlessly on Tessa’s chest.
“Tessa Clark, 28, possible placental abruption post MVA.” Hannah explains as soon as they are met by one of the night shift doctors. “She gave birth 20 minutes ago and started hemorrhaging. We pushed pressors on the scene and managed to get a pulse back but she went back into asystole a couple minutes ago.” She lifts her head to address the other doctor directly. “She’s gonna need blood.”
Archer barely catches a glimpse of Hannah’s face but the sight of it is nearly enough to knock the wind out of him. Anyone who doesn’t know Hannah Asher could easily miss her distress behind her usual professional focus but he can see the redness around her eyes, faint behind the beginning of the bruise the airbag left on her cheekbone. He hears the slight tremble in her voice. Hell, he can almost feel the dread in her stomach.
“Tessa? Oh my god, Tessa!”
Jared Clark rushes to his wife’s side but Archer stops him as the group enters Baghdad. “You need to let them work right now, Jared. Come.” He grabs the man by the shoulders and leads him away, back towards the room where Jesse rests, asleep on the bed. “Have they told you anything about your baby?”
The man nods. “They took her away before I could see her. They said they needed to take her to the NICU to warm her up.”
“Why don’t you go upstairs and meet her? Jesse is sleeping and I’ll make sure someone stays with him.” He signals to one of the nurses. “Nurse Trini can take you.”
The father seems lost, glancing back and forth between his sleeping son and the room where his wife disappeared.
“I can’t imagine what you must be feeling,” Archer tells him when he catches his attention. “But there is nothing you can do right now other than be there for your children. Go,” he insists. “We’ll find you as soon as we have news.”
Finally, the man agrees and Archer watches as Trini accompanies him down the hallway, towards the elevator. As soon as they’re out of sight, he hurries toward Baghdad, anxious for an update.
Just as he reaches the sliding door, they open and Hannah comes out. He freezes in place the moment he sees her. Even now, only a few minutes later, he can tell the bruise on her face is darkening but truthfully, it’s the least of his worry. She’s pale, paler than he’s ever seen her and she looks like the weight of the world has landed on her shoulders. It’s obvious she’s struggling to keep herself together as she meets his eyes and slowly shakes her head.
Never in the three years he’s known Hannah Asher would he ever have thought of her as fragile but right now, it seems like one wrong word would cause her to shatter. He takes a step toward her, the urge to take her in his arms and comfort her in some way, any way, almost too strong to resist but she lowers her gaze to her hands.
Her arms are covered in blood, practically up to her elbow. Tessa’s blood. As a matter of fact, her entire front is splattered with scarlet stains.
“I have to go clean up,” she whispers.
An icy vice tightens around his heart. The voice he heard, detached yet trembling, is not the one he’s accustomed to.
What the hell happened in that car?
He watches as Hannah walks away, speeding into the hallway leading to the locker room. He stands motionless for a moment, conflicted. Should he follow her? Does she need space? Knowing Hannah, she’s probably replaying everything that happened, wondering what else she could have done to save her patient.
His body makes the decision before his head does. He makes his way to the locker room, standing outside, leaning against the wall right across from the door. At least, he’ll be there for her as soon as she’s ready to come out. He’ll tell her that she did everything she could, repeat it until she believes it. He’ll do whatever she needs him to do, even if he has no idea what could possibly make things better after the last hour they had. All he knows is that he wants to be there for her, no matter what it takes.
Ten minutes pass, then twenty. Worry creeps in. After half an hour and no sign of Hannah, he simply can’t take it anymore. What if she’s not okay? What if she was injured in the accident? Images of Hannah, passed out on the cold vinyl floor, flash in front of his eyes and his heart firmly lodges in his throat.
He knocks on the door, softly at first, then more forcefully, calling Hannah’s name. When he hears no answer, he opens it.
“Hannah?” He calls again.
Through the crack, he hears water. At first, he’s worried she jumped in one of the shower stalls and he’s about to make things very awkward for the both of them. Quickly though, he realizes the water is coming from the other side of the room, where a sink is installed.
“Hannah?” Again. No answer. “I’m coming in,” he announces before opening the door further.
It only takes two steps to find her. His stomach takes a dive at the sight of her.
She changed into scrubs, probably the only clean garments she could find. There’s a garbage bag at her feet, where he assumes she shoved her bloody clothes. He hears the scrubbing before he fully understands what is happening. Standing in front of the sink, she’s frantically scrubbing her hands and arms with a surgical brush. The mirror reflects her face, bent and focused on the task, her eyes lost and haggard as she keeps scrubbing relentlessly.
She might not be physically hurt but she sure as hell isn’t okay.
“Hannah?” He calls, more softly this time as he slowly steps forward, but she doesn’t seem to hear him.
Finally, he reaches her side. He takes one glimpse down, towards the sound of running water. Hannah’s arms look clean, rid of any crimson trace and yet she seems unable to stop. Gently, he lays his hand of hers, taking the brush and setting in on the edge of the sink. He winces at the sight of her skin, red and raw. Without a word, he grabs a towel from the nearby shelf and pulls her slightly away from the sink. The water shuts down almost instantly, leaving the room draped in heavy silence.
Gently, he proceeds to dry her arms, dabbing as softly as possible to soothe her skin. She doesn’t fight him, which does little to alleviate his anxiety. Instead, she keeps her eyes down. His heart breaks as he watches her eyes swell up with tears, her chin wobbling as she struggles to swallow them back.
“Hannah,” he whispers this time.
This time, she looks up. A tear breaks away. “I couldn’t…” she tries but her voice cracks and the sobs she was holding in finally escape.
He brings her to him, letting go of the towel to wrap his arms around her body. At last, she lets go entirely, her shoulders shaking as she finally lets out everything she’s been holding in. He’s not sure why this loss has such an effect on her but he’s not about to ask right now. There will be time to talk about it later, if she wants to.
He holds her there, tightly against his chest, one hand stroking her hair, his chin resting on her forehead as he murmurs soothing words to her. Somewhere along the way, she reaches up, grabbing a fistful of his shirt as she holds onto him like the last anchor in the flood sweeping through her.
Eventually, the shaking lessens. She doesn’t pull away right away, instead resting her head against him, limp and exhausted. Her pain seeps through and his heart shatters for her.
“Tell me what you need,” he whispers against her hair. “How can I help you?”
She finally takes a step back, putting just enough distance between them that she can look up at him but still not far enough that he has to let go. She opens her mouth but no sound comes out, as if she can’t bring herself to ask.
His hands drop to her shoulder as her eyes lower again, forcing her to meet his with a gentle squeeze.
“Let me show up for you.”
The hint of a smile grazes her lips when she recognizes her own words from just a few weeks ago. The last of her hesitation subsides.
“A meeting. I need to go to a meeting,” she finally says.
Without missing a beat, he answers. “Give me your keys. I'll drive.”
𑁋𑁋𑁋𑁋𑁋𑁋
Tap-tap-tap Tap-tap-tap
Tap-tap-tap Tap-tap-tap
Dean Archer isn’t the kind of man who’s very good at waiting. Waiting means he’s powerless. It means that he has no control over an outcome. It’s one of the reasons he joined the military. It’s also one of the reasons he became a doctor.
None of these help him at the moment. All he can do while Hannah is inside the church basement is wait, his right index finger nervously tapping the steering wheel.
He forces himself to stop and checks his watch. Even after driving to the closest Thai restaurant he could find and picking up enough food to feed a small army for a week, there is still 10 minutes to kill before Hannah walks out of the meeting.
She’d been unusually quiet the entire ride, only talking to give him directions. He hadn’t said much either. He figured she’d talk when she was ready. He’d looked over to her at red lights, catching a glimpse of her reflection in the passenger window. Her eyes were still red but the tears had finally dried up. The thousand-yard stare was still there however. Whatever had been haunting her since the moment Tessa died was still very much present. And he suspects it won’t leave for a while.
As soon as he’d parked beside the church, she’d all but jumped out of the car, flashing a small grateful smile his way, the words unspoken. He’d silently nodded in return. I’ll be right there .
He watched until she reached the stairs down to the church basement. The waiting was driving him crazy and so he figured he might as well pick up some dinner but now that he is back, parked in the exact same spot, it isn’t any easier.
Tap-tap-tap Tap-tap-tap
Tap-tap-tap Tap-tap-tap
He turns on the radio, then turns it off almost right away. Music or words, it all feels too intrusive right now.
Tap-tap-tap Tap-tap-tap
Tap-tap-tap Tap-tap-tap
At last, people start to trickle up the stairs and out in the street, his heart beating faster with every new face that emerges from the basement. Finally, the familiar blonde head he’s been waiting for appears. He’s relieved to see she seems a little more relaxed. The strain is still visible on her face, but the tension has left her body.
She slips into the passenger seat, the thunk of the door closing behind her reverberating between them.
“Where to?” He simply asks.
“Home,” she answers with a decisive nod.
Another quiet drive follows, but this time, it feels more comfortable. She doesn’t get lost in her head, her focus remaining on the road ahead of us, her eyes darting back and forth to follow the lights and traffic. He breathes a little easier.
She buzzes them into her condo’s underground garage and directs him to her parking space.
“Thanks.” Her voice comes as soon as the engine is off. She turns to face him. “Really. Thank you. For everything. The ride. The food. For being there.”
“Are you okay?” The question that has been burning his lips for the past couple of hours finally bursts out of him.
She looks down, looking for the right answer. “I’m not sure I can answer that right now. I’m better than I was an hour ago,” she offers.
It doesn’t completely alleviate his concern but he’ll take it. “Good.” She shifts in her seat and he takes it as his cue. “Here.” He takes the keys off the ignition and hands them to her. “I can help you take everything upstairs and then I’ll Uber back to my place if you want.”
“Oh, okay.”
She looks almost disappointed as she exits the car, taking one of the take-out bags with her. He follows her to the elevator, the other bag in hand. They’re halfway to the 8th floor when she speaks again.
“You know, this is way too much food just for me. Do you want to stay for dinner?”
He hesitates. He’s more than happy to stay. He knows for a fact that, if he goes home right now, he’ll spend the night laying awake, wondering if she’s okay. On the other hand, he doesn’t want her to be obligated.
“I could use some food,” he finally answers.
He walks behind her as she leads him through the carpeted hallway, unlocks her door and lets them inside, flicking the lights on. The place is all warmth, from the colors to the cozy furniture. He notices several potted plants around the living-room, all of them lush and thriving. The place feels like her, he thinks as he sets down the paper bag on the kitchen counter, next to the one Hannah was holding seconds before.
She takes his coat and he mechanically rolls up the sleeves of his sweater while she puts it away. The second she turns back towards him and her eyes fall to his arms, she gasps.
“Dean! Why didn’t you tell me?”
He follows her glance and curses himself. With everything that happened, he forgot about the cuts on his arm. Quickly, he drops the sleeves back to his wrists. “It’s nothing. Just a little memory from the airbag.”
“You shielded me,” she remembers. Her eyes widen as the moment of the crash comes back to her. “Your car!”
He shrugs. “I’m pretty sure it’s totaled.”
“I’m so sorry. You probably need to go home, call your insurance and everything. You don’t have to stay. I’m fine.”
“I’m pretty sure that’s the universal answer for ‘not fine’.” He can’t help the grin sprouting on his face.
She looks at him, crossing her arms in mock offense. “It’s the second time today you’ve used my own words against me.”
“What can I say? Your words of wisdom are incomparable.” He lets out a small sigh of relief at her small chuckle. That sounds more like the woman he knows. “Hannah,” he adds, more seriously. “My car will be just as totaled in the morning. Do you want me to stay?”
He watches as she nips at her bottom lip for a moment before she finally nods. “I could use the company,” she admits softly.
It doesn’t take long for them to rummage through the take-out bags to find their dinner. She leads him to the living-room and sits on the couch, one leg tucked under her, motioning him to join her as she turns on a small electric fireplace, bright images of flame dancing instantly inside of it while the sound of crackling wood fills the air.
He stops when he notices the cage sitting on a table, right behind the couch. “I didn’t realize you had a pet.”
She turns towards the cage and gently scrapes a finger along the metal. A pile of bedding flutters and a little furry face pokes through.
”Remember that pile up last year? One of the patients had him with her. Rescued him. She didn’t make it unfortunately and there was no one to take him so I did.” She grabs a small bag sitting next to the cage. “He makes for good company, especially after a hard day, don’t you MC?” She adds, sticking the food through the cage.
Her face grows somber again. As she watches the hamster munch away at his treat, he can see her getting lost through the memories of the day.
He sits next to her, setting his own food on the coffee table before facing her. The couch shifting with his presence brings her back.
“I keep thinking about Elyse,” she says, her eyes still trained on the animal. Her voice is so low he would have missed it, had he not been hanging onto her every movement. “That’s how she named her little girl.”
“It’s a beautiful name,” he responds.
She nods. “I was her, you know,” She looks at him, the pain in her eyes so sharp it makes his own heart bleed. “My mom died giving birth to me.”
The revelation washes over him like an arctic wave. Her reaction makes all the sense now. The depth of the emotional upheaval she went through today finally hits him. She stays silent for a beat, nothing but the sound of burning fire between them.
“I held her while her mother died, Dean,” she continues eventually. “She was so quiet, looking at me with those big brown eyes like she was trying to make sense of what was happening.” Her voice cracks and it’s all he can do not to wrap his arms around her. “Only a few minutes old and she was already losing the most important person in her life.” She ragingly wipes away the fresh tears glistening in her eyes. “I couldn’t let her go through what I went through. It’s so lonely being the only one who doesn’t remember.”
He reaches to rest a comforting hand on her shoulder, his thumb brushing her skin through the soft material of her shirt. “I’m so sorry, Hannah.”
She lays her hand on top of his, leaning her head slightly as she closes her eyes for a moment. Silky strands of blond hair tickle the back of his hand and something tightens inside of him. She sighs into his touch, just for a fraction of a second before she looks up at him again. The pain is still there but dulled.
Did he do that?
“My dad and my siblings, they did the best they could,” she starts again before he truly has the chance to process what happened. “They tried to share what was left of her but it always felt like this gaping hole inside of me. No matter how much they loved me, there was always something missing.”
“Did they know?” He asks.
She shakes her head. “I couldn’t tell them. I didn’t even understand it at first and once I did… It was easier to just bury it. Ignore it. I lost myself into school, into work and it worked for a while. Until it didn’t.”
He knows exactly what she means. He saw Sean go through the same process. Leanne too. Hell, to some extent, he did it himself when he was overseas. “It’s easier than dealing with the pain.”
She nods. “It was so insidious, I never saw it coming. I couldn’t sleep and I chalked it up to stress. I was almost done with my residency, studying for board certification every moment I wasn’t in the hospital so it made sense.”
He’s not sure why she’s telling him all this but with every word leaving her, she seems lighter and he sure as hell isn’t going to stop that. The fact that she trusts him enough to open up touches him deeper than he wants to admit. When has someone been this vulnerable with him?
If he’s honest, he’s also curious to understand that piece of her past, to know every single side of Hannah Asher, light or dark.
“It started with sedatives,” she goes on. “And then, when those didn’t work anymore, I turned to something else. Something stronger.”
She looks down hesitating as if, for the first time today, she’s afraid he’ll judge her. He gives her shoulder a gentle squeeze. It’s okay , he reassures her silently. His gaze never leaves her until she gathers the strength to face him again.
“I craved it today,” she admits. “When you found me in the locker room, I wanted to feel that numbness so badly. It’s better now,” she adds quickly at his concerned frown. “The meeting helped. This .” She lets go of his hand to motion between them. “This helps but the feeling caught me off guard.” She sighs, frustration rising to the surface. She untucks her leg from under her, sitting forward and leaning back into the cushions of the sofa, defeated. “I should know better by now than to think it’s ever gonna go away completely but sometimes I just wonder… am I always going to be one bad day away from a relapse?”
“Hey,” he whispers, letting the hand of her shoulder reach around her, softly brushing the back of her neck. “I wish I could answer that for you but I know one thing. You didn’t use.” He pauses, letting his words sink in. “You dealt with this the best way you could. I'm so sorry you had to go through this. All of it. But you made it through. You're strong, Hannah, stronger than you give yourself credit for.”
He watches a single tear roll down her cheek as she leans into him and rests her head on his shoulder. His heart leaps in his chest as he tucks her head under his chin, the delicate scent of coconut inundating the air around him.
“I’m so tired of being strong,” she whispers, her voice cracking.
He wraps his arm around her, bringing her closer to him as he strokes comforting circles on the skin of her arm. “It’s okay,” he answers. “I’m here.”
I’m always going to be here , he almost adds and he realizes he means it. Unable to stop himself, he drops a featherlike kiss to the top of her head. If she notices it, she doesn’t say anything. Her body relaxes against his as they sit there, his thumb mindlessly skimming her skin. Slowly, her breathing evens out against his chest.
It doesn’t take long for the artificial sound of the crackling fire and the warmth between them to lull Archer into a daze. As sleep starts taking over his body, it occurs to him that this is the calmest he’s felt in a long time. He hates every moment of pain Hannah had to go through. He would take it all away in a heartbeat if he had the power but right now, with her asleep in his arms…
It feels right .
It comes as an evidence. He has feelings for Hannah Asher. Hannah Asher, who sees beyond appearances, beyond every wall he tried to put up. Hannah Asher, the beautiful, compassionate soul who would give a hamster a home when it lost its owner.
The thought should spring his half-asleep brain awake with panic. Maybe tomorrow it will. But, right now, even if he’s under no illusion that she returns those feelings, he’s happy to let them take over.
For the first time in weeks, he drifts into a deep sleep.