#Serena knows Bernie can't deal w touch or sudden moves and it's been a hard adjustment for her but the wrist touch is their thing for now

[akaanonymouth]

“You were crying in your sleep.” 

Serena paced the landing outside their bedrooms, worrying at her necklace. She’d awoken barely ten minutes ago, confused at her sudden thrust into consciousness, and was about to plump a pillow and settle back down, when she heard a sound that caught her breath, then launched her out of bed before her legs even realised they were awake and expected to function. She was about to barge into Bernie’s room when she caught herself, hand poised over the handle, her breathing audibly rapid and shaky. 

They hadn’t expressly had a conversation about their sleeping arrangements; Bernie still had yet to utter more than a couple of croaky words since she’d been found, but Serena had become adept at reading her body language and her eyes, and it became clear that it was more comfortable for Bernie to have her own space generally; that sharing a bed, or even a room, mightn’t be for the best at the moment. Serena slept in the room across the hall, and once she’d helped Bernie undress whilst her broken bones and bruises healed, she’d go to her own room, and leave the door slightly ajar, just in case.

Giving in to the worry, but tempering her natural instinct, Serena knocked gently on the door. “Bernie?” she called. When she received no response, she cracked the door as quietly as she could, and peered around. The lamp was on, as it had been every night since they’d arrived, and Bernie’s face was half buried in the pillow. Even from a distance, Serena could see the pain etched on it. Eyebrows knitted together, one hand scrunched around a handful of hair, Bernie was sobbing, every now and again a heart wrenching keening noise coming from her. 

“Bernie?” Serena called more insistently, starting to panic a bit when Bernie remained asleep, tears soaking the pillow. 

Given how Bernie reacted to unexpected touch at the best of times now, Serena didn’t want to jolt her awake, but was unwilling to leave her festering in what was probably less of a nightmare and more of a recollection. She got down on her knees next to the bed, called out a bit louder as she nudged the mattress. Bernie’s eyes fluttered open on the back of sobs.

“Oh, my darling,” Serena muttered, letting her fingertips linger close to Bernie’s hand. Bernie blinked rapidly, scowling as she uncurled her hand from her hair, unable to stop the intermittent hiccups or the tears. Her eyes widened as she took in Serena, kneeling in front of her, eyes raking over her face.

“S’rena,” she whispered, hoarsely, and when Serena smiled, it sparked a fresh wave of tears. Serena could see her mind struggling; she knew from her own experience what waking up fresh off the back of a living nightmare felt like, unable to shake off the grief of it, before the reality of it sunk in and brought a fresh hell When she felt Bernie’s fingertips at her wrist, she turned her hand slowly, waiting until Bernie moved before she started stroking her hand, slowly, grip open and loose. 

“You were crying in your sleep,” Serena murmured, her eyes concentrating on their hands to give Bernie time to adjust without scrutiny. “Just came to check you were all right,” she waited a beat, then looked at Bernie. “I can leave, now, if you are?” Bernie swallowed, her lips moving soundlessly until she managed to clear her throat. “Stay.” Serena knew she would remember the sound of that word for the rest of her life.

She squeezed her hand reassuringly before getting slowly to her feet. Around the other side of the bed, she pulled back the sheet and propped herself up on her side, head resting on her palm facing Bernie who, with some effort and wincing, turned towards her. Serena made sure Bernie could see her arm as she lifted it to stroke strands of hair away from her face. When Bernie only blinked, Serena let out a breath. She could see Bernie’s breathing was still uneven, a tremor to her lips even as the tears dried. 

“I used to have nightmares a lot,” Serena started, slowly. “I know you were there for some of it, but,” she shrugged, smiling wanly. “It’d take ages for the sadness of the dream to wear off,  only for it to morph into sadness about reality. Or sometimes it was so beautiful that I’d already be crying for the loss of it before I woke up properly, knowing the grief that was waiting. In the end, it was all a blur, really.” Bernie’s eyes crinkled at the corners, and Serena stroked her ear as she tucked another strand behind it. “I started listening to audiobooks,” she continued, her voice dropping an octave. “Funny stuff, you know, to try to cancel out the horridness. There was this particular Terry Pratchett one about wee free men, and let me tell you, the dreams I had after that were nothing short of psychedelic. The story went something like…”

Serena kept talking, recounting bits of the story and making up random things, until Bernie’s drooping eyes closed completely and her breath evened out. Bernie’s grip slackened around the wrist she’d reached for when Serena started talking, and after making sure the curtains were wide open so that in a couple of hours, daylight would stream in and Bernie wouldn’t be frightened by her presence or the shadows, she linked their little fingers loosely, and closed her eyes.

#fic prompts #my fic #i didn't realise it but i have v strong hc and feelings about Bernie and PTSD and how they deal so #life after holby #after the second bomb #that's that then innit #Serena knows Bernie can't deal w touch or sudden moves and it's been a hard adjustment for her but the wrist touch is their thing for now #bernie isn't voluntarily mute she just... can't speak. aside from a couple of words to her rescuers diagnosing her rib trauma #the only word she's managed with any consistency is Serena #and serena's learned to read the way she says her name as well as her body language #so even though she's the only one using most of the words she doesn't feel like it's a one sided conversation most of the time #berena #bernie wolfe #serena campbell #feel free to come rail at me about post Mogadishu stuff now that I hae like an entire document about how they're navigating it haha #answers #backjustforberena