#berena trauma prompts

[akaanonymouth]

“This is the third meal you’ve missed this week, are you okay?”  For the trauma prompt thingy please.

PTSD Mogadishu

Bernie’s recovering; she’s started talking more, they spend time together just sitting and walking, and watching tv, reading, and Serena cooks all the meals. But then Serena realises that Bernie’s made excuses for dinner three times, since she’s been off the hospital regulated meal replacement shakes.

She makes a lot of excuses at first, twists a fork around her plate, sometimes, when she does sit down, which is never for long once she lifts one to her mouth. 

Eventually, Serena broaches the subject, when they’re sat on the sofa, Serena having foregone her planned paella and chucked ice cream and bananas in a blender, tried not to watch as Bernie devoured it. 

“Sometimes I don’t think about it, because I’m hungry,” Bernie says, and Serena starts. It’s been an hour since Serena wordlessly handed her a milkshake, sat next to her on the sofa and put some mindless background noise on the television. Bernie studies it avidly, as though her Spanish has ever been good enough to follow the dramatics of a telenovela. “But then, when I’m not hungry, I think about it, and it sets it all off again. There’s no rhyme or reason,” Bernie shrugs, setting her empty cup onto the coffee table, still studiously avoiding Serena’s eyes. Serena watches as her fingers start to rub at the skin on her wrists, and it takes all of her will not to close the gap between them and engulf her in her arms. “It’s the texture, I think,” Bernie continues. “Not being hungry, everything aching and the effort it took to move any part of my face when stale bread was forced into my mouth by warm fingers,” Bernie swallows convulsively. “They were smoke stained, dirt stained, rough…large…” she swallows again, her fingers working harder at her wrists. “Being hungry, but only having rice. Dry, don’t even know if it had been cooked, or whether it was just left out. Crunchy. Makes your tongue feel funny when your mouth is already dry and you’re trying to swallow. Hard and dry and it rattles around your mouth that’s already hard and dry, and it’s like teeth, loose broken teeth rattling around your mouth, there’s no water, and the whole feels of it makes my tongue go numb, my brain itch-” Serena notices Bernie’s shift between first and second person, present and past tense, doesn’t quite know if she should intervene yet; it’s the most Bernie’s talked about any of it since they addressed her ribs and facial bruises, and that had rendered her mute for another three days. “And I have to swallow, I have to make myself swallow, got quicker at it, better at it, otherwise they…” she shudders. “I make myself, because if I have no strength when I need it, then I’ll never get out when I get the chance, never get to see Serena again-” 

Bernie’s breathing is quickening, she’s started rocking, so Serena leans forward and gently touches one of her hands. “Bernie,” she says, gently, and Bernie starts violently, wide eyes swinging wildly to Serena. Serena keeps eye contact, stroking her wrist gently, until Bernie visibly relaxes, the initial terror leaving her eyes.

“It was always for you, S’rena. Getting out,” she stares intently at Serena for seconds in which Serena hopes understanding and love shines through, before her eyes drop, buried under her fringe as she shrugs and smiles almost scathingly, her gaze now unable to settle. Her fingers scratch at Serena’s, instead of her own wrist. “It’s the textures. The warmth, the sounds in my head, being hungry, not being hungry… I don’t…It’s just…” she huffs, breathes deeply. “Just an awkward bastard I suppose.” She shrugs self-deprecatingly, but Serena refuses to let it go as a flippant conversation. 

“Bernie, no, you-”

Bernie pulls her hands away, grabbing at and running them through her hair and over her face. “I can’t even eat a meal with you, Serena!” she cries, voice breaking. “I don’t want your pity, I just want to be able to eat a plate of food with my partner without feeling sick and falling apart!” 

Bernie falls apart. 

Like grains of dry rice on a fork, Serena tries to hold her together. 

When Bernie wakes, mouth and eyes dry and everything else aching, she’s momentarily frozen. Blinking and breathing her way through the fear induced nausea to rationality, the events of the previous evening come back to her. She curls in on herself, ready to block out everything once again, until her eyes land on the bedside table, and a large glass of juice sat on it. 

Eventually, she makes her way to the kitchen, blinking in the almost midday sun streaming through the windows and open patio doors. Serena watches her approach, doesn’t move, doesn't even uncross a leg or close the book on her knee, waits until Bernie sits gingerly on the chair opposite her by the table laden with bowls of chopped fruit and some soft, milky looking things Bernie can’t even name. 

Serena pushes a mug of coffee towards her. “We’re in Spain,” she says, softly. “But even if we weren’t, wherever we are, you never have to eat dry food ever again.” 

Bernie takes a small piece of melon, pushes it between her lips, marvels at the way it melts in her mouth. She lifts her head to the sun, eyes closed. “You just have to keep talking to me,” Serena whispers. Bernie opens her eyes, finally meets Serena’s from under her fringe. Serena reaches her hand across the table. “But it’s alright,” she says, corners of her eyes crinkling as she smiles and Bernie tickles her wrist. “Don’t talk with your mouth full.”

#replies #fic prompts #berena fic #berena trauma prompts #my fic #Serena winks at the end obviously and Bernie's eyes crinkle and we all know they'll be ok eventually

[pers-books]

36 and 53 would make my day 😊 Thank you

Ha! It was about time someone picked the mutual pining prompt for these two, Anon! Thanks! 36. Text/Letter Fic and 53. Mutual Pining (This is a canon divergent mash-up, because Canon Schmanon.)

After Bernie goes back to Nairobi following Jason’s wedding, Serena finds herself in receipt of more text messages than she’s previously got from Bernie. Normally the ratio is 3:1 - for every three texts she sends Bernie, she gets one in response, but this time around it’s nearly even, except when Bernie’s in theatre and cannot immediately respond to Serena’s messages.

If anyone were to read their messages they would doubtless label the tone of them as ‘pining’. Certainly Serena finds herself yearning for Bernie, not only to have her favourite Major in bed beside her, but also in small domestic moments - making dinner together; curling up on the sofa to watch a bit of mindless telly in order to unwind before they head to bed; arguing over whose turn it is to have first dibs on the shower. She also misses Bernie at work, despite the fact that it’s been quite some time since they routinely worked together.

It’s not until Raf, Ric, Donna, and Fletch have all, on different occasions, urged Serena to go and visit Bernie that she becomes aware that her pining is noticeable to others. 

Then Jason pays her a visit and tells her that Bernie has been talking to him (though less often than she talks to Serena), and he thinks that Serena should go and make a long visit in Nairobi. 

“Are you sure that’s wise?” Serena asks. “What about if you need me?”

“Raf and Fletch, and Donna, and Ric, have all told me that if we need help, they would assist me and Greta.”

“Oh, so you’ve been colluding to get rid of me?” asks Serena, trying to pretend to a level of annoyance she doesn’t feel.

“No, Aunty Serena. We’ve been trying to work out a way for you and Aunty Bernie to spend more than two or three days together. Fletch says your mutual pining is more suitable to teenagers than grown ups, but Raf told him off for lacking a single romantic bone in his body.

Serena laughs at that, and very nearly weeps the next moment when Jason gives her a proper hug.

“Go and stay with Aunty Bernie, please,” he practically begs.

“Very well. Thank you, Jason.”

“People should be with the people they love, if they can,” is all he says in response to her fervent thanks. 

She doesn’t argue, she just grabs her laptop to book a flight, simultaneously calling Bernie and hoping that the trauma surgeon isn’t working late today.

[Pick two (2) tropes for me to mash-up and explain how I’d write them (Berena only)]

#A Nonymouse #Ask and you shall receive - possibly! #Berena #Mash-up Meme #Trope de Trope #Fanfic

[ktlsyrtis]

S but what you'd have done if you'd been in charge of the Berena storyline (I know this isn't really a headcanon but actually a fix-it AU I guess so you don't have to answer if you don't want to)

S - Show us an example of your personal headcanon (prompts optional but encouraged)

If I had been in charge from the beginning, things would’ve been the same up through the first half of The Kill List. After that:

Serena doesn’t fully forgive Bernie immediately. Her trust has been broken and they need to work through that, as well as coming to terms with this new aspect of her sexuality

They date for a while, taking things slowly (which is hard when they want to tear each other’s clothes off 24/7)

They finally consummate their relationship and say their ‘I love you’s because they’re Soft™

Then we get a period of them being sappy and flirty - making out in the car, the office, holding hands, being generally adorable

The Elinor stuff still happens, but she doesn’t die, she’s just badly injured and has a long recovery. Rather than coming back to the hospital at all, Serena goes away with Ellie to some sort of rehab facility, with Bernie’s full support. While she’s gone, the trauma unit closes and Bernie gets recruited to go to Nairobi

By now Elinor is on the mend and decides to turn her life around and go to filmmaking school in the US, so Serena plans on joining Bernie, but everything goes to shit at the hospital (except Raf lives, bc fuck that). Serena goes back to Holby to steady the ship

Things proceed as in canon through the kiss with Leah (there was potential for good plot there!) Except Bernie isn’t MIA. Serena calls her, sobbing as she confesses everything - her weakness, her worries, how lonely she’s been. Bernie gets good and jealous, and realizes something needs to change

Bernie tells Serena she’s coming back. Serena of course protests, but Bernie won’t be budged - she tells Serena that she can find fulfilling work anywhere, but they’re both tired of being lonely and all she wants is to be wherever Serena is

Bernie hands off her duties in Nairobi and comes home in time for Jason’s wedding. She takes the job in the ED trauma unit and works with Connie to secure more funding and make it a more full-fledged facility. She moves in with Serena

Leah tries to get revenge on Serena rebuffing her by filing a harassment complaint. Bernie, Jason and Cam do some digging, and it comes to light that Leah has a history of raising false claims in order to blackmail superiors into overlooking her lacking skillset. They bring this to Hanssen and she is promptly fired and her medical license is revoked

On the anniversary of Bernie’s return from Kiev, one of them proposes

[fandom meme]

#well that got out of hand #lol #replies #slightlyintimidating

[this-is-krikkit]

27 & berena (:

27. “Isn’t this a gorgeous view?” (Send me a number and a pairing, and I‘ll write a ficlet)

Thank you for the prompt! Incidentally, I’m killing two birds with one stone with this and filling the @weeklyberenafix​ “jealousy” prompt. 

This is set during 19x08, Parasite. It’s mostly fluff. It’s here on ao3.

Been waiting to smile, been holding it in for a while

Serena grips her own leg, stilling it when the nervous bouncing she can’t blame on her yet untouched coffee makes a file fall to the floor –on the other side of the desk, of course– and she sighs as she glances at the time on her computer.

It’s been fifteen minutes since Bernie left her things in their office and went out to the locker room, which might be less than Serena and most doctors need in the morning, but is unusually long for the action-driven trauma surgeon to change into her scrubs.

She tells herself she’s just annoyed that their breakfast is getting cold. Except she went to get said breakfast as soon as Bernie left the room partly because they both need the caffeine after their sleepless night, but mostly because she’s feeling guilty that she recoiled from holding her hand upon their arrival. So really, she knows annoyance is only a cover for fear that this simple incident and the rejection Bernie might have read into it, were enough to make her run away again.

She takes a deep breath and chooses, instead of going insane over speculations, to head out to the Nurses station where Fletch is already hard at work, and treat the cause of her uneasiness.

“Hello, Serena,” he says cheerfully as he sees her approach, his ear-to-ear grinning betraying just how much he saw yesterday before Bernie managed to close the curtain. “How are you doing this fine morning?”

Serena tries to smile back, but the anxiety she can feel rising doesn’t help.

“I’m very well, thank you,” she answers as casually as she can, and Fletch is thankfully too busy writing something down in a patient’s file to notice the insecurity in her voice. “Actually, I’m wondering if you haven’t seen Ms Wolfe around?”

That however, gets him to pause and stare, confusion written all over his face.

“I would have thought… I mean, that you were with her,” he says carefully, lowering his voice even though they’re both aware that yesterday’s incident is all anyone can talk about around the hospital.

Serena sighs in frustration, but lowers her voice too as she notices one too many pair of eyes on her.

“I was, but she left and it’s been a while so I'm… Look, have you seen her?”

“Not since you both arrived earlier, sorry, it’s been a busy handover from the night’s shift,” he apologises with a smile.

It’s a valid excuse, and Serena again knows the annoyance is simply masking her growing worry, so she clears her throat and takes a step back.

“Right. Carry on then, didn’t mean to keep you from patient care.”

She’s about to get into their office again, when she hears hurried footsteps behind her.

“Wait, Ms C!” Fletch’s voice calls out, and the fact that he waits until he’s closer to continue gives her hope that he’s not about to ask for a professional favour. “Have you checked the roof?”

“The roof?” she asks, a little taken aback at the idea.

“I don’t mean to get her into any trouble,” Fletch starts again, looking conflicted, “but I think that’s where she goes for her smoking breaks? I mean, where she went before-”

“Of course,” she cuts in, not needing to hear more. “Thank you, Fletch.”

She doesn’t wait for his reply to go and get her coat.

-

Bernie Wolfe takes another deep breath in the cold morning, and lets herself feel sentimental as she sits on the roof stairs, remembering the few times Dom, the last person she would have expected to find a confident into –knowing his age and taste for hospital gossip– helped her get through the most difficult moments of her recent life. She smiles as she thinks of their latest conversation, and although he’s probably already heard the news, notes to herself that he deserves an official text from her later on with a proper thank you in tow.

She stands up when her butt starts protesting against the cold metal through the cotton of her scrubs and gets closer to the edge, staring at the view below her. Taking it in slowly for once, instead of considering it simple background to her drama-filled life.

It’s ludicrous how people claim that sounds and colours and smells change for the better when you’re in love, it really is. Except it���s also the exact truth she can’t quite believe she is now living, and she can’t stop herself from grinning down at a city she felt so unwanted in not so long ago.

Serena and her may never have an easygoing relationship, and there’s still the matter of telling their respective children at some point –if Serena even wishes to do so, which Bernie now doubts considering she didn’t want them to be seen as a couple earlier, even after their very much public display of affection from the day before. Not to mention their rocky start to say the least, how Bernie ran and ached and cried and hated herself for weeks, and from what she’s gathered since she’s been back, that one night stand with an ex none withstanding, how Serena got her own fair share of pain out of it –which is ironic considering Bernie thought going away would solve the problem for at least one of them.

Still, Bernie came back, and it’s only been about twenty-four hours. But they’ve been the most astonishing, fulfilling twenty-four hours in a very long time, perhaps in her entire life, as Serena bravely let her guard down again and welcomed her back into her life with open arms.

It’s a wonder and it’s a gift she’s not really sure she deserves yet, but whatever happens, it is completely worth the haziness right now, she thinks through the fog of sleep deprivation of her travelling from Ukraine, getting to work, and ending up in Serena’s bed with absolutely no will to lose consciousness for longer than strictly necessary.

It’s also a good thing she’s had the brilliant idea to come up here before her shift started, because the cold wind hitting her face is at least helping her stay awake, and alert enough to hear the heavy access door opening behind her.

“There you are,” Serena says. “Wondered where you might have run off to.”

Bernie doesn’t jump at the intrusion, only snorts out a laugh and gets her hands out of her pockets to show they’re empty.

“I’m not smoking, if that was your concern,” she says as she briefly turns around with a dazzling smile.

Serena doesn’t comment on what her concern actually was, too busy letting herself bathe in the relief that Bernie hasn’t actually gone anywhere, and is in fact wearing her scrubs –which means she’s not planning on leaving right this instant either. She walks towards her hesitantly.

“Is… everything all right?” she can’t help but ask, because although Bernie seems in a good mood, it is still rather odd that she fled up there on their first official day back at work together.

“Everything’s perfect,” Bernie answers, staring back at the city in front of her as Serena stops a few metres to her side. “This was sort of my hiding place before I left for Kiev. I used to come up here in times of crisis to have soul-soothing chats with a… let’s say, helpful ally.”

Serena’s heart misses a beat at the affection in her voice and the thoughtful look on her face. She knows it’s stupid, knows it makes no sense considering Bernie’s I more than like you and Bernie’s body and fingers and mouth last night and again this morning. She feels foolish for even thinking it. But she can’t help the crippling feeling, inherited from years spent as unfaithful Edward’s wife no doubt, as well as the vulnerability this new –in so many ways– relationship brings out in her, that something else could be going on here.

“Ally?”

She apparently does too good a job at sounding natural though, because Bernie only keeps smiling, and extends her arms to gesture at the entire rooftop.

“Yes. I thought I’d give myself a chance to appreciate it in a positive set of mind, for once.”

“Positive state of my mind,” she repeats slowly. “Well, that's… good.”

Serena takes a few deep breaths, tells herself Bernie doesn’t look like she’s hiding anything and she should stop making mountains out of molehills, that whoever that other person is, Bernie stayed and that’s what matters, and blowing little things out of proportions like this might actually scare her away just as easily. That she should just leave her alone to enjoy her peace in this place, and stop bothering her with her own dumb fears.

But Bernie frowns as the silence lingers, sensing something might be wrong, and this time turns around to fully face her.

“Are you okay?” she asks gently with that overly worried, caring look on her face that Serena appreciated so much even early in their friendship.

“I’m fine,” she answers, and she knows it came out too fast not to sound suspicious.

And sure enough, that combined with the awkwardness of Serena’s stance, close yet far away, her arms crossed over her chest when it’s really not that cold, and the lack of eye contact she usually doesn’t shy away from, confirm Bernie’s instinct that she might be lying.

Tentatively, she walks away from the edge of the building, and after silently asking permission and Serena nods, carefully pries one of Serena’s hands away and links their fingers together.

“It’s nothing,” Serena sighs without more prompting, although she can’t help but squeeze back like she’s afraid Bernie’s fingers will slip away otherwise, “it’s just… You disappeared earlier.”

“Oh,” Bernie breathes out, finally getting it.

She almost moves away, astonished by her own stupidity, silently berating herself for not foreseeing that Serena would inevitably worry about another vanishing act after the last one she pulled. But the other surgeon’s grip on her forces her back to reality, and away from the self-hating spiral that would have swallowed her again.

“I’m so sorry,” she says instead, swallowing thickly. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

And because they’re alone and she needs to and can finally allow herself to do it, she wraps her arms around Serena’s body and hugs her close, feeling her contented sigh as she returns the embrace immediately.

“Just wanted to enjoy the calm before whatever today may bring,” Bernie explains, nuzzling at a mark she made just a few hours ago on Serena’s neck, enjoying the goosebumps she can feel rising there. “After all, we did get in awfully early.”

Serena moves back a little, resting her hands on Bernie’s forearms as she bites on her own lip.

“Yes, about that, I meant to apologise myself. For the parking lot,” she adds when Bernie tilts her head, confused. “I know it’s silly, especially considering everyone’s been blabbing on about the two of us ever since you… well, Kiev. I just wish we could keep this to ourselves as much as possible, for a bit longer.”

She wonders a second too late if it is going to sound to Bernie like she’s ashamed of her, when it couldn’t be farther from the truth. But before she can correct herself, the former army medic speaks.

“God no, I understand, Serena, I told you so. And I know what it’s like to have every eye on you in this place, so really, I’m the one who’s sorry you had to endure the rumour mill on your own while I was away.”

“You’re here now, that’s all that matters,” Serena means to firmly state, but she can hear the sweetness in her own voice and doesn’t mind that much when she sees how it makes Bernie’s whole face lighten up. “Although I wish I’d known about this place, because I could have used it. Unless that meant running into that ally of yours in the middle of a breakdown, obviously,” she half jokes, mostly curious but still slightly worried about whoever Bernie mentioned before.

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that,” Bernie laughs, not catching the edge to Serena’s voice. “Dom’s a lot more discreet that anyone gives him credit for, and he doesn’t mind sharing the space with another conflicted soul from time to time.”

Serena’s eyes almost comically widen, and she has to fight a smile as she makes sure she heard right.

“Dom, as in Dominic Copeland?”

“Who else?” Bernie asks, shrugging, and only looks in puzzlement as Serena can’t contain her hilarity any longer. “Why- why are you laughing?”

“It’s, Lord, I just can’t believe,” she tries to articulate, holding on to the other woman’s shoulder as she laughs, “that of all things possible, I got jealous of Dominic bloody Copeland spending time alone with you!”

It takes a couple of minutes for her to recover, and it’s just as well because Bernie needs a little time herself to process the news.

“You were… jealous?” she still asks, because she really can’t wrap her head around the concept.

That, and her incredulous tone send Serena into another fit of laughter, and even though she still doesn’t completely understand what’s going on, Bernie can’t resist a few chuckles at the sound.

“Of course I was,” Serena eventually replies when she’s back to herself. “You mentioned someone helping you through all the mess you were going through, when I had no idea you were so close to anyone else around here. That’s not nothing.”

“But, Serena,” Bernie explains, speaking slowly as if legitimately concerned for Serena’s mental health, “I told you I… I mean, I told you how much I missed you, we went home together-”

“I know that, dear, and don’t you dare think I will ever forget a single detail of it,” Serena says, arching an eyebrow and loving the way Bernie’s eyes darken even in the clear light of the morning. “I guess even after last night, it all feels so surreal, in the best way, that I still can’t quite believe you’re back,” she adds more softly. “And what little sleep we did get obviously wasn’t enough for me to regain my full capacities.”

“Serena Wendy Campbell,” Bernie scolds with a smile and a shake of her head, “you’re a brilliant surgeon, but you sure can be silly at times.”

“Oi! I’m not the only one having issues working out the kinks of this relationship, I’ll have you know.”

Serena means it as a joke, but Bernie loses the smile and looks at her with all the seriousness in the world, and frames her face with her hands.

“I know you’re not, and so far I’ve certainly screwed up more than you have,” she says wistfully, and stops Serena form interrupting with a finger to her lips. “But I love you, Serena, and I promise I’ll try my hardest not to screw it up again.”

Serena thinks it’s a good thing Bernie’s hands are touching her skin right now, helping her integrate what is happening. Bernie’s really back and right here in front of her. Bernie’s truly looking at her with the most intense and earnest eyes since last night, since ever. Bernie actually just said those three words for the very first time, on the rooftop of the building where they met, shared a unit and a friendship, and eventually fell in love.

“I love you too,” she replies as fast as she can think to, because she can’t let herself choke on  emotion right now, and live one more second without Bernie hearing it.

And when the blonde surgeon looks genuinely surprised at the declaration, Serena thinks to hell with professionalism and to hell with whoever might come up here at the wrong time. She kisses her, kisses away the doubts, kisses her with all the love she can pour into it so Bernie can’t ever question it –and promises herself to remind her of it as often as she can from now on. Smiles a little at the same time, because Bernie kisses back with a vengeance, with the unspoken reply that she does get the message.

Eventually they do part, foreheads touching and lips only centimetres away, eyes closed as they try and get their breathing back to a healthier frequency.

“You’re right to fear nothing from Dom, by the way,” Bernie points out once she feels she can speak again, thinking back to the previous day. “I asked him if he would turn for me when things where still rocky between you and I, and he actually declined.”

Serena laughs at the radical change in topic, as well as the underlying offence Bernie probably didn’t mean to let transpire.

“How rude of him! Did he not get the memo about every one of this hospital’s employees having to broaden their romantic and sexual horizons upon meeting you?”

“I know,” Bernie mock-sighs, “these young doctors have no respect for the rules.”

They stay quiet for a while, and eventually Bernie entangles them so they can both face the town, checking her watch in the process –mindful of what little time they have left before their shift officially begins.

“Now come on, all hiding aside, isn’t this a gorgeous view?”

“It really is,” Serena replies in a faux innocent tone.

And when Bernie looks sideways, curious, she realises by her mischievous grin that Serena hasn’t been staring at the city at all, but at her.

“Oh my God, please tell me this didn’t just happen,” she says as she goes to cover her face with her hand, feeling her cheeks reddening from more than the cold.

“You better believe it did,” Serena states with aplomb and not one ounce of shame, sliding her fingers between Bernie’s and getting her hand out of the way in the process.

“Didn’t have you down as the cheesy romantic type, Ms Campbell,” Bernie teases sheepishly, bumping their shoulders together.

“Never felt the urge before I met you, Major Wolfe.”

She forgoes correcting Serena when lips crash onto hers once more, and finds there are more important matters in this world that the incorrect use of former military titles.

#i hope it isn't too long anon idk how long a ficlet is supposed to be #berena fix: jealousy #berena #prompts #anon #my stuff #asks

[madam-wakefield]

Christmas Time With You (2/3)

Berena | Fluff | Smut | FR18 | 2,510 words.

Serena sets out to make their first proper join Christmas truly magical for Bernie. My gift for the @berenasecretsanta

I hope my giftee @megredgrave likes what I have written for her prompt “berena in love, fluff, smut, christmas, happiness!” 

A03 Part 1 Part 2

The holiday preparations continue the same way over the next two weeks. They unexpectedly spend multiple nights at the dining room table when Bernie learns that sending Christmas cards jointly means “Yes, darling, of course I expect you to sign your own name on the cards.”

There are a lot more cards to write than she expected, multiple people in the hospital Bernie is sure she has never shared a single word with but knows she has been in the same room with for meetings, the totally unique and dysfunctional AAU family. There are friends of Serena that have moved onto new hospital ventures, ones that Bernie has heard of in conversations but doesn’t actually know. Serena assures her that she wants to jointly send the Christmas cards because she wants her friends to know about them.

Then it’s Bernie’s turn and her pile is significantly smaller. Cameron and Charlotte are at the top of her list as she knows they’ve already decided to spend Christmas with Marcus and his girlfriend—his third in as many years. She has a few friends from the military she still keeps in touch with. It’s a little strange sending cards from the two of them, but it feels invigorating to really be able to be herself.

She sends one to her aunt and uncle in Germany and one to her uncle who lives on the other side of Holby and lastly, even though she knows it probably won’t be received well, she addresses one to her parents. She hasn’t heard from either of them since Marcus decided it was his job to inform them of their relationship breakup and the exact reason behind it.

They post the cards one evening on the way back from what is an absolutely crazy day at work as a result of the icy weather and Christmas decorating disasters. The spend evenings snuggled up on the sofa watching Christmas films.

One day they babysit Guinevere to allow Jason and Greta to go out together and buy her Christmas presents. It’s cold but sunny and they take her for a walk to the park where Serena pushes her on the swings, and Bernie—ever the big kid—sits her on her lap while they go down the slide. They take her home and she falls asleep in Bernie’s arms while they watch Elf.

The two of them are lucky enough to have time off for the work Christmas party. They attend together, Serena looking stunning in a red cocktail dress. Serena says Bernie takes her breath away when she sees her in the tailored dark blue suit that accentuates her curves in all the right places. They both drink far more than they should and both wake in the morning with terrible hangovers.

They spend a lot of December working, part of the deal of having scored Christmas Day off, and some days have one or both of them called into work by the red phone, their expertise being needed. Being able to save people’s lives and ensuring they can go home to their families is special at any time, but in the lead up to Christmas—which is all about family—it seems just that extra bit special.

And before they know it, it’s Christmas Eve. Bernie agreed to work a shift and Serena had agreed to take a late shift on Boxing Day.

Bernie walks into the house at 7pm on Christmas Eve to the sound of Michael Bublé playing on the stereo and the smell of baking permeating every corner. She walks into the kitchen to find Serena in her apron, hands covered in flour and making pastry. Serena turns around at the sound of Bernie’s footsteps and they meet in a gentle embrace. Bernie kisses Serena in greeting before pulling away. “Dinner is in the microwave, honey. I ate mine earlier as Jason, Greta and Gwen popped round. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Of course I don’t,” Bernie replies, quickly kissing Serena in thanks as she hands her a full glass of shiraz. Bernie warms her dinner and props herself against the kitchen side as she eats, too content to watch Serena, who has gone back to making the pastry, to be bothered to sit down at the dining room table.

Serena finishes the pastry just as Bernie finishes dinner. Serena places the pastry in the fridge as Bernie places her plate in the dishwasher before taking advantage of their proximity and pulling Serena close by the waist. She wraps her arms around her gently and kisses her again, letting her tongue run along Serena’s lips, tasting the Shiraz on them.

“Help me make mince pies?” Serena asks, just another one of the things she plans on using to help make Bernie’s Christmas magical.

“Take the pastry out of the fridge,” Serena instructs after she’s tied Bernie’s apron around her waist, kissing the top of her head for good measure. Serena herself sets to sprinkling the worktop with icing sugar so they can roll out the pastry.

She hands Bernie the rolling pin. “Roll out the pastry until it’s about 3mm thick,” she instructs gently and Bernie takes the rolling pin from her. She uses her free hand to pick up her glass of wine and take a rather large sip.

“Wait. How in the hell do I roll it to 3mm? That’s a very exact figure,” Bernie states after she’s been rolling the pastry for a minute or so, as if her brain has only just caught up with what it’s been asked to do.

Serena rolls her eyes lovingly at her girlfriend. “Darling, are you or are you not a great trauma surgeon? You know all about the difference a millimetre or two can make.” Bernie turns and literally pouts at her in response.

“I was hoping that would be hint for you to show me,” Bernie states before pouting again. Serena kisses the pout away before moving to stand close behind her, taking hold of her hands gently and guiding her in rolling out the pastry.

“Better?” she asks, not stopping in her movement.

“Much,” Bernie beams, and if Serena isn’t mistaken, she’s sure Bernie lied about the pastry just to get her into this position, not that she’s complaining. She can think of much worse places to be on Christmas Eve than spooning her lover, chin resting gently on her shoulder.

“Perfect,” Serena says a few minutes later when the pastry is at just the right thickness. She hands Bernie the pastry cutter. “Cut out 24 circles for me, please, love. I’m just going to get the filling from the fridge.”

By the time Serena has uncovered the homemade filling and given it a final stir and then greased the inside of two backing tins, all the circles are cut.

“Place the circles in here for me, love, and place a tablespoon and a half of the filling in each,” Serena says, handing the tins to Bernie. “I’m going to roll out the rest of the pastry for the lids.”

They work in a comfortable silence for a while, Serena humming to the music under her breath, though Bernie isn’t even sure she realises she’s doing it. Before long the lids are ready to go onto the pies. Serena shows Bernie how to do the first one, sealing it before glazing it with egg and adding a tiny air hole. They take a tray each and isn’t long before the mince pies are ready for the oven.

It’s only once they are in the oven that Serena realises how messy Bernie has gotten. She has a streak of sugar down her nose, she has more running through her hair and a smear of mincemeat across her cheek.

“What ever are we going to do with you?” she chuckles gently as she swipes her thumb through the mincemeat before sucking it from her thumb, moaning at the taste. She always has been a good cook.

She sees Bernie’s eyes widen at the action and decides she doesn’t want to stop. She slides her thumb along Bernie’s cheek again, this time offering it to Bernie to suck. This time it’s Bernie’s turn to moan at the taste. Bernie takes her time sucking on Serena’s thumb, using her tongue much more than necessary to get the mincemeat off. Serena feels Bernie’s breath hitch and in the end she can’t help but back her lover up against the wall, removing her thumb and slamming their lips together.

She swipes her tongue against Bernie’s lips and is quickly granted access. Bernie tastes of mincemeat but somehow also still of her usual chocolate and honeycomb. She feels Bernie’s fingers card through her hair, then rubbing along her collarbone just the way she likes. She herself reaches behind Bernie and caresses her hair gently before pulling her head back gently to allow for access to her neck. She removes her mouth from Bernie’s who whines at the loss before whining again when Serena’s teeth graze down her neck.

She uses her free hand to begin unbuttoning Bernie’s shirt, quickly sliding it off her shoulders and onto the floor. Just as the shirt hits the floor, the timer on the oven rings.

“Stay there and don’t move,” Serena commands, gently nipping at Bernie’s neck in warning. She removes the pies from the oven in record time and by the times she’s back to Bernie, she has lost her own shirt.

She kisses Bernie hard again, hand going behind her back to unhook her bra, slipping the straps off her shoulders and letting it fall to the floor. Her hands come up and cup Bernie’s breasts, thumbs teasing her nipples. Bernie whines breathlessly. Her nipples have always been so sensitive and she can feel herself beginning to throb.

“Fuck! Serena, I need you!” Serena’s only response is to bend down and take one of Bernie’s nipples into her mouth, lapping at the hardened nub while rolling the other one between her fingers. She feels Bernie’s hands come up to remove her bra. The cool air of the kitchen makes her nipples instantly harden. Once she feels she’s given that nipple enough attention to really drive Bernie wild, she switches to the other side. Bernie’s senses are already in overdrive so when Serena runs her teeth along the second nipple, she lets out a moan that tells Serena she’s teased enough.

She kisses Bernie again, gently backing them towards the dining room until Bernie’s legs bump against it. “Mmmm, off!” Serena moans herself as she unbuttons Bernie’s skinny jeans, pulling down the zipper before allowing Bernie to extract herself from them. Soon they are both standing in just their knickers.

Serena pushes Bernie back against the table, forcing her to lie down before climbing on top and straddling her hips. Thank goodness for solid oak furniture!

She kisses a path down Bernie’s body, focusing on all those areas she knows she loves, like the little spot behind her ear that literally makes her breath stop and her heart surgery scar that Serena always pays special attention to. She nips at Bernie’s rib cage before moving herself off the table to allow her to kiss up and down each of Bernie’s thighs, careful to avoid that sweet spot Bernie really wants her to reach.

“Please, Serena,” Bernie whines when she can’t take anymore. “Please! I need you now!”

“I’ve got you,” Serena says lovingly, finally bringing herself down to kiss over the soaked patch in Bernie’s underwear. She can already tell how wet Bernie is going to be. She taps Bernie’s hips and Bernie lowers them quickly, allowing Serena to swiftly pull down her own underwear.

Serena noses at Bernie’s curls, intoxicated by her smell. She blows gently, teasing Bernie just a little more. “Oh, god, Serena, please,” Bernie moans above her. Serena takes hold of Bernie’s thighs before licking her entrance, long hot strokes allowing her to taste just how teased and turned on Bernie really is. She presses her thumb against Bernie’s clit, rubbing in tight circles as she begins to thrust her tongue inside Bernie, moaning at the taste which in turn causes Bernie to moan at the sensation.

“Fuck, Serena, don’t stop!” Serena keeps going, pushing Bernie as fast as she can with her tongue until Bernie is a writhing mess above her. “Close, fuck, Serena, so close.”

Serena knows she can’t quite push Bernie over the edge like this, so she pulls her tongue out, moving it to flick over Serena’s swollen clit before thrusting three fingers inside, swiftly rubbing at Bernie’s g-spot. The change in sensation sends Bernie over the edge, and Serena hears the scream above as Bernie’s orgasm hits, liquid coating Serena’s fingers. She continues to lap at Bernie’s clit as she coaxes her through the last of the orgasm until Bernie is squirming with oversensitivity.

Serena removes her fingers from Bernie and brings them up to her own lips, sucking on them and reveling in Bernie’s taste. “Come here,” Bernie commands when she calms down from her own orgasm enough to speak. Serena straddles Bernie again, and allows Bernie to pull her into a searing kiss, Bernie tasting herself on Serena tongue.

From their position, Bernie pulls Serena’s underwear down her thighs, rubbing her fingers through her folds and feeling Serena’s own wetness.

“Yes, god, Bernie, yes, please,” Serena begs, but it’s Bernie’s turn to tease, fingers moving between teasing her clit and her entrance but never quite pushing in. Serena becomes desperate and in the end, when Bernie moves to tease her entrance again, thrusts her hips down, moaning as two of Bernie’s long nimble fingers enter her.

Bernie pumps them lazily at first, drawing long ragged breaths from Serena, enjoying the way she can make her partner fall apart in such an amazing way. She can tell when Serena grows restless, trying to push her hips down further to gain more friction. Bernie pulls her two fingers out and thrusts them back in, adding a third to join them. She sucks Serena’s earlobe into her mouth and she starts to thrust her fingers at an unforgiving pace, ensuring that she grazes Serena g-spot with each thrust.

She knows Serena is close when her moans turn to whimpers. Serena doesn’t beg with words but the whimpers makes Bernie weak. She finds it in her to speed up just a little as she pushes her thumb against Serena’s clit. She feels Serena walls clamping tightly around her fingers as her orgasm hits. Bernie teases her through it, not relenting on her teasing when the orgasm has stopped.

The whines from Serena start up again almost instantly and Bernie is rewarded when, thirty seconds later, Serena bites down sharply on her collar bone as she falls over the edge again. She strokes her gently through it before extracting her fingers and pulling Serena into a gentle kiss.

 “I could get used to spending Christmas Eve like this,” she whispers with a smile.

#berena secret santa #BSS #Holby #Berena #Madam Wakefield Writes #Holby City #Megredgrave

[ddagent]

director's commentary: crossed wires

Crossing Wires

This still remains one of my favourite Berena fics of all time (probably one of my top favourite fics I’ve ever written, too). It was based on one of those prompts you see milling around tumblr, “One of us thinks this is a date but the other thinks it’s an informal job interview”, and I just got inspired. I really enjoy - and think I’m quite good at - writing comedy, as this was so much fun to write and people have really taken to it. 

The story really hinges on dramatic irony and dialogue: the readers know Serena thinks it’s a date, Bernie a job interview, and the miscommunication is where the humour comes from. For example: 

Serena snorted, once again wrapping her fingers around the glass of wine. “At least you have experience in this field.”

“Well, yes.” Charlotte had suggested she look for any openings to talk herself up, as unnatural as it might feel to her. This was one of those times. “I mean, my interest started back at university but I didn’t get much experience until I left. Over the years I’ve developed quite a reputation. A name for myself, if you will. I think I even won an award once.”

It took some time to get the dialogue right as it had to have a dual purpose so neither of them would go what the hell are you talking about that early in the story. Also, that it could be easily explained away, as Serena does here:

Blinking once, twice, Serena tried to reorient herself in the conversation. She thought they had been talking about their dating experiences, namely that Bernie had had a handful of female partners whilst Serena was rather left feeling like a shy, virginal schoolgirl. Why Bernie had begun talking about her illustrious career in medicine, Serena couldn’t figure out. Suddenly it clicked.  It was a joke; that was it. Experience in the field; trauma surgery. Bernie was trying to put her at ease.  

Serena was grateful, and hoped the smile she gave Bernie showed it. “I wouldn’t mind seeing your medals one day. Wouldn’t mind seeing you in your uniform, either. Always appreciated a man in uniform.” Serena rather imagined the same would hold true for Major Wolfe. In fact, she’d had several fantasies involving it.

I’m rather obsessed with scene transitions. The central part of the story where they’re on their date needed to be seamless and it was important to get those right. To get the full impact of the miscommunication, you need to lead off from the previous point, then catch up if necessary in the subsequent paragraph. Which, I think, I managed to achieve. 

…I’ve probably made it sound like the most boring story alive, but it’s still one of my favourites! And I’m a structure nerd…

#bonnissance #question time #ship: berena

[ao3feed-berena]

One Tick On My "Things I've Always Wanted To Do List"

by Shirazkindofgirl

Bernie has been working hard. The Trauma Centre is now open and Serena decides her girlfriend deserves a day off.

Words: 878, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Holby City

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: F/F

Characters: Bernie Wolfe, Serena Campbell

Relationships: Serena Campbell/Bernie Wolfe

Additional Tags: Berena Appreciation Week 2018, Day Five Prompt: Nairobi, berena - Freeform, Safari

Read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2MvTvFv

#ao3feed #ao3feed-berena #berena

[tea-and-procrastination]

Berena prompt for you: I lost a bet to you and the circumstances were supposed to be a joke but I took them seriously

Aweek to go until Christmas and Bernie is slouched in the office, ferventlywishing there was something wrong with the heating on AAU so she could keep hercoat on, or that a trauma patient would be rushed in so she could change intoher scrubs before having to set foot on the ward. No such luck on either count,of course, and Serena left her a note saying she’s going to be on Keller for awhile this morning so she can’t just leave rounds to her and hide in hereeither. She heaves a sigh and pushes herself to her feet, hangs her coat andscarf beside Serena’s and slips out of the door, hopes that maybe if she walksfast and quietly enough no one will notice her.

Itdoesn’t work.

Morvenglances up from the patient she’s talking to and does a double take – whichmakes Jasmine turn and stare at her too, both of their mouths dropping open.

‘Gettinginto the Christmas spirit, are we?’ Raf asks, and Bernie glowers at him. ‘Iguess not,’ he mutters.

‘Nowthat,’ Fletch says over his shoulder, far too cheerily, ‘looks to me like theface of a woman who lost a bet.’

‘Nocomment,’ Bernie says, holding her hand out for a patient file. ‘If we couldjust get on, please?’

‘Surething, Rudolph,’ Fletch grins, once he’s out of reach so she can’t swat at him.

*

Serenafreezes the moment she steps out of the lift. ‘Sorry,’ she mutters when Fletchcollides with her.

‘Youalright?’ he asks, and then follows her gaze. ‘That wouldn’t have anything todo with you, would it?’

‘Nocomment,’ Serena says, fighting to keep a smirk from her face. He watches asshe hurries to the office and closes the door behind her, the wood and glassnot quite keeping the sound of her laughter in.

‘Veryfetching,’ Serena says when Bernie joins her a little while later. ‘Not surewhat I like best: the hideous jumper, the flashing badge or the antlers.’

Berniescowls at her and drops into her chair; Serena smiles, perches on the desk andreaches to pluck the antlers from her head.

‘Youare aware,’ she says quietly, ‘that I was joking?’

Bernie’shead snaps up and she stares at her, wide eyed.

‘Well,obviously not because – well,’ she adds, using the antlers to gesture atBernie’s jumper.

‘You–you were– you mean–’ Bernie splutters.

‘You’reso easy to wind up, darling,’ Serena grins, her eyes glittering.

#berena #fanfic #ficlet #this is from so long ago! but it wanted to be christmassy so *shrugs* #prompt #victorianlesbian #i wrote a thing

[mxquill]

Could you do 15 and/or 21 from the kiss prompts for Berena pleaaaase?

The hammering of rain on the carriage window echoes the erratic beat of Bernie’s heart, thrumming loud and clear in her ears, and she thinks she might just faint the closer she gets to her destination. 

The months apart should be laced with uncertainty-- does she still want this? Does she still want me?-- but as the train pulls into the station Bernie catches a glimpse of silver hair waiting for her on the platform, and she realises she’s never been so sure of anything in her life. Everything has always been leading up to this; not just the trauma bay, but the sleepless nights, the cold mornings, the emptiness that feels too deafening without Serena by her side, in her office, in her bed. Adjusting to life without her is futile. It was always supposed to be this way, ever since that first morning when Bernie had decided to stop smoking not for Marcus but for herself, to make way for a newer, healthier addiction.

She’s waiting for her now, as Bernie steps off the train, stakes her claim on French soil and the woman beaming bright as she rushes forward to pull Bernie into a hug so forceful it sends her stumbling.

“Typical-- the sun was shining before I left. Did you have to bring the weather with you?” Serena teases softly as she pulls away, eyes sparkling. Of all the things Bernie has burned into her memory-- the curve of her smile, the darkness of her eyes, the dimple in her chin-- nothing compares to the real thing. She seems so radiant, now, like she’s stolen the sun straight out of the sky, and Bernie would rather be blinded by it than ever have to look away from her again.

“Shush,” she grins, feels her eyes crinkle and her cheeks ache, “come here, you.”

They kiss and kiss and kiss, indefinite, weather be damned. The only thing that anchors her here is the patter of rain against their bodies-- she’s too busy lost in the familiarity of Serena’s lips on hers, the tongue that begins an exploration for the first time in far too long, the hands that grip tight onto cheeks, necks, lapels, because she finally feels like everything is right.

They’re soaked by the time they pull away. Bernie can’t tell if the shiver that wracks through her is from cold or giddiness, only that she hasn’t felt so much in such a long time, and always, always for Serena.

“Let’s get you home,” Serena says, and Bernie finds she quite likes the sound of that.

Home. Something that is theirs again, at last.

So she lets Serena be her guide, doesn’t take any of it in as she walks through the door, because Serena is all the home she really needs. 

They finally-- finally, after a flurry of desperate, clinging kisses on the doorstep-- get to the bedroom, still soaked from the rain and dripping onto the carpet, and Bernie lets Serena undress her, push heavy, sodden clothes to the floor as she kisses the droplets from her skin, licks away the puddles gathered in her collarbones. Bernie will let her do whatever she wants. Now, and forever, because she is hers, and she is just fine.

#berena #kiss prompts #long post #nat writes #WOO GOTTA LOVE A HEALTHY DOSE OF FEELS IN THE AFTERNOON #there is not a lot of tongue but a lot of rain #Anonymous #ask

[daisydoctor13]

A Silver of Hope

Berena Appreciation Week Day 7: Prompt Reunion

Bernie paced up and down on the platform, checking her watch and the announcement board every few seconds, desperate for the time to be going quicker. She was full of nervous energy and anticipation. She’d waited 10 months, what was another 10 minutes?

The past two weeks had dragged, ever since Serena had told her over a very tearful phone call, that she was ready to come home. They had kept in touch, texting every day and calling when time zones and Bernie’s shifts allowed. Bernie had kept the conversations light, not wanting to let on just how much she was struggling without Serena. She couldn’t put that pressure on her to come back before she was ready.

She had told her about Jasmine and the trauma unit, how Nina and Guy Self had turned up, hell bent on destroying everything that she and Serena had built together. Serena had told her to stay resilient, when she was back they would be unstoppable.

Neither of them had broached the subject of their relationship, Bernie again not wanting to force Serena into saying things that she thought Bernie wanted to hear. But the constant communication and Serena asking Bernie to pick her up from the station gave her heart hope that they could work it out, find a new normal without Elinor. She couldn’t wait to see her again, properly, but she was also terrified. She knew she still loved Serena, but deep down there was still that niggling doubt, what if Serena didn’t love her anymore, could they go back to being friends, would Serena have found someone else out travelling, that wasn’t a reminder of things in the past?

She could feel the bile rising again, but she was stern with herself. She had no right to feel like this, she would support Serena in whatever way she needed.

The tinny announcement cut through her thoughts, Serena’s train was approaching the platform. Bernie stopped still, holding her breath. Holby was a small station and she didn’t expect many to be getting off there. The train slowed and screeched to a halt, the doors opened and there she was.

She got off at the other end of the train to where Bernie was standing, but she could see from there that she no longer looked like she was carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders. She had tanned slightly and had a relaxed, open face, no tension to be seen. As she got closer, Bernie could see that her face was no longer drawn, she had lost a lot of weight following Elinor’s death and seemed a shell of her former self, but now her cheeks were flushed and her gorgeous curves had returned. She looked almost like the Serena she had first met, except for her hair.

Oh, her hair.

She had cropped it even shorter and let the hair dye fade. Her rich, natural brunette was streaked with a silvery grey, the sunlight causing it to shimmer in so many different tones, Bernie wasn’t sure there were enough words for all of the colours she could see.

The pixie cut suited her so well. It was slightly ruffled, hair swept backwards from her forehead, with one tiny strand curling forwards.  

Bernie felt her bottom jaw drop, she hadn’t seen Serena’s face in so long. She could just imagine running her hand through her hair, stroking the short strands, how it would look in the breeze, or in the mornings when they woke, sticking up in different directions.

She stared as Serena approached her, wanting to memorise everything about this new, but oh so familiar Serena. She couldn’t take her eyes off her hair and she couldn’t form any words as Serena smiled broadly at her.

“Hello, you,” Serena said, tucking a strand of Bernie’s own hair behind her ear, and letting her hand hover, stroking down her jaw line. Bernie just stared, a lump in her throat.

“Hm, charming, you haven’t seen me in 10 months and you can’t even say hello,” she quipped, and Bernie managed to tell her face to smile. Nothing could have prepared her for seeing Serena again, the rush of emotions and longing. She felt flustered, the heat rising in her cheeks. She glanced from Serena’s face and then back to her hair.

“Serena, you…your…you look,” Serena’s face dropped slightly.

“My hair, you hate it don’t you? I just, it’s gone grey and I thought, new start, let it be natural. Do you think it makes me look old? I’m sure you’d much rather not be seen with someone with grey hair….” Bernie stopped Serena’s nervous rambling by pressing their lips together and pulling Serena close, one hand gently caressing the back of her head, pulling her fingers through the delightful shades of silver.

It was a deep, passionate kiss, which she was pleased to note that Serena returned with just as much emotion. She paused and pulled her head back to look Serena straight in the eyes.

“Beautiful,” she whispered, resting her forehead against Serena’s. “You look beautiful, Serena. Don’t think I would ever want to be seen with anyone else, if you still want to be with me. I know this last year has been hard and I will still be here for you, as a friend or more if you still want that.”

“I do, Bernie, I want to try again, we never got a proper chance before Elinor,”

“I’d like to try again, too. I never thought I’d say this about anybody, but I want to grow old with you, watch both of us change and go grey and look at each other over the tops of our glasses, complaining about modern technology and the size of print in books.”

She could feel the tears travelling down her cheeks, and saw that they matched Serena’s. She reached up to wipe them away as Serena chuckled.

“Do you really think we’ll be like that?”

Bernie smiled, stroked back the small lock of hair that was over Serena’s forehead, and kissed her again, gentle and chaste, then murmured against her lips.

“I hope so.”

Title credit goes to @beezarre thanks for letting me kill you several times writing this!! Idea from this post

#berena #fic #berena appreciation week #day 7 reunion #hair

[akaanonymouth]

'Let me hold your hair back atleast'

For the trauma prompt because sweet mother of OZ. That list! Wow.

So, I had two very different scenarios for this one, and I will post them both: no.1 is for an idea that's been floating around in my head for absolute years, and it's the first thing that came to mind for this prompt, it's basically a "what if Bernie slept with Marcus for the last time and ended up pregnant" and after that there's so many avenues to take it that I haven't managed to write it because I can't decide on a definitive one 🙈

No. 2 is in Spain, after the second bomb, before the third, before serial killer son, Lordt! haha! I think speaks for itself; they've spent a lot of time together at this point

(and I haven't edited anything, because if I waited for that, you'd probably just assume me dead, so, sorry)

1)

“Bernie?” Serena knocks gently on the bathroom door. She hears a muffled groan and more retching, and winces in sympathy. She nudges the door, pleased when it opens. 

“S’alright,” she hears, shortly, Bernie’s breathing ragged. “Don’t need anything from you, you can-” she’s cut off by another round of heaves, enough to bring her knees up off the floor as she holds onto the bowl.

Serena runs a flannel under the cold tap, wrings it out and leaves it in the sink ready, gets down on her knees next to Bernie and rests a hand on her back. “I know. Let me hold your hair back, at least.” 

Bernie’s head appears from the bowl long enough to say “Got a bobble in,” before her face disappears again. 

Serena rolls her eyes, nevertheless reaching for the bits of long fringe Bernie’s never able to contain, smoothing them back against her sweaty head. 

When it appears that the retching has eased, and Bernie’s just getting her breath back, Serena reaches for the flannel, holds it gently against the back of her neck.

“You don’t have to do this,” Bernie croaks, finally able to raise her head far enough out of the bowl to rest it against the seat. Serena adjusts her position, handing Bernie the flannel before tucking more errant strands of hair out of the way so she can wipe her face. 

“Neither do you,” Serena says, gently, tilting her head until Bernie meets her eyes, confusion shining through the redness. “I’m sorry I overreacted. I… I was being selfish. Silly, really. We can talk some more about it and anything you decide, I’ll be here. For you. If- if that’s what you want. All right?” 

Bernie smiles wetly, covers Serena’s hand on her arm with her own and squeezes.“I don’t know what to do, S’rena, I- oh for f-'' she scrambles to her knees again, and Serena once more reaches for her hair. “It’ll be alright,” she murmurs. “You’re going to be ok.”

2)

After they return from their walk around the village, they ride on the high of easy conversation, of just holding hands and feeling the setting sun on their skin, and of having nobody and nothing around them to worry about. They’re still laughing, and it’s a seamless transition, to go from the small glass of wine outside their local cafe to pouring a glass in Serena’s - their- kitchen, Bernie getting the glasses, Serena choosing a bottle. Bernie folds herself into the sofa, easier than should be possible, Serena thinks with a roll of her eyes, but still more carefully than she ever has been with the way she puts her body to rest. These scars are taking longer to heal. Serena pours them a glass, is mindful about how much she pours into Bernie’s; they’ve shared a half bottle already and it’s been over a year since Bernie’s had anything alcoholic to drink, but when Bernie’s feet inch closer to her legs, her arm over the back of the sofa inches closer to Bernie’s shoulders, and at some point in the conversation the glasses empty and get fuller, and the bottle empties until Bernie gets up to retrieve another, sits back down with a wince, waves off Serena’s fussing, but ends up slightly reclined on puffed up cushions, her feet in Serena’s lap anyway.

They’ve been talking about family. The past. 

Serena’s thumbs rub absentmindedly over Bernie’s feet. 

“We have to tell them now, you know,” Serena says carefully, not slowing the rhythmic rubbing of her hands, but watching Bernie’s face carefully. She sees the moment Bernie clams up, literally; lips pursing, shoulders hunching, fingers clenching. 

Bernie says nothing, stares off into the fireplace as though she can make it set itself and her aflame. 

“It’s not fair, Bernie,” she says, gently, tilting her head until Bernie looks at her. “On anyone. You deserve your children, and they deserve you,” Bernie scoffs, her head hunching more into her shoulders. “And we deserve a whole life. I mean, I wouldn’t mind living in a closet with you forever,  but closeted with a dead woman is a bit much, hmm?” she nudges Bernie’s foot and elicits a small smile. “I don’t want Jason thinking I’m living with a ghost, he already thinks I’ve lost my mind a bit in living here, imagine if I let slip?”

Bernie shifts, empties her wine glass before putting it down, reaches for Serena’s hands. “I’m so sorry, S’rena, it… I Didn’t… I didn’t think-” Serena cuts her off, stills Bernie's feet on her lap. 

“Don’t,” she says, pleadingly. “Don’t move. And it’s fine, it’s been fine, but… We can’t live in this bubble forever. You’re not dead anymore, my love.” 

She carries on massaging Bernie’s feet softly, fingers reaching up her calves and back down, keeping her eyes fixed on the movement of her hands, giving Bernie space. She can see out of the corner of her eye Bernie biting her lip, feels the movement of her arm as she runs her hand through her hair and over her face, feels the sigh tense and relax her whole body. Doesn’t stop her when she gets up off the sofa, sighs herself, doesn’t quite manage to contain her surprise when Bernie comes back with another bottle of wine. 

Glasses refilled, Bernie again tucks her feet up, sitting closer this time, nudges Serena’s lap with her knee, reaches for her hand and fidgets with her fingers in lieu of meeting her eyes.

“I know you’re right,” she says. She takes a gulp of her wine, a gulp of air, meets Serena’s eyes with determination. “How do we do this?”

Serena’s heart swells at we. It’s bad timing, so she restrains the urge to launch herself across the sofa to plant her lips on Bernie’s, to pull the woman into herself so closely that they meld bones, satisfies herself with a too-tight squeeze of a knee and a look. 

“Well,” she starts, keeping her movements steady, her voice changing an octave. “Marcus certainly won’t answer the phone to me, so maybe we should send him a selfie. Hashtag Surprise! I mean, it’s very much your style!” She tilts her wine glass towards Bernie, winking, who blinks, and Serena thinks maybe it’s not the time, it’s too much to joke about, this all-in-all-out-ness of Bernie’s, but then Bernie barks a laugh, which spurs Serena on. 

“Or one of those memes, you know - no, of course you don’t know, you wouldn’t know even if you’d been alive for it, honestly, you’re awful, but it’s a picture, which shows a ‘twelve months ago versus now’ development, and one would be a photo of your headstone, and one would be you right now. Might send him into an early one!” Bernie starts honking laughing again, which sends Serena off, and she refills their glasses between wiping away tears. “Let’s practice your thumbs up pose,” Serena says, grabbing her phone, and Bernie laughs, leans in to the camera anyway, goes with it right up until Serena is the one to say “Are you alright? You look a bit-” Bernie unfolds herself as quickly as she can from the sofa, face devoid of colour even with her tan, holding her ribs and limping a bit as she dashes to the bathroom. Serena stands outside the bathroom door, hand hovering over the handle uncertainly until she hears the second bout of retching. “Bernie? Can I come in?” All she hears is breaths gasping between heaves, so she nudges the door, relieved when it opens. “‘M ok, no need!” Bernie wheezes, both arms holding on to the toilet seat, before another round of retching overcomes her. 

“Let me hold your hair back, at least,” Serena murmurs, wetting a flannel before easing to her knees next to Bernie, reaching her hand around to smooth her hair back out of the bowl. 

“I’m so sorry,” Bernie whispers eventually, once her body has stopped pulling itself up off the floor in an attempt to empty itself into the bowl. She doesn’t lift her head until Serena holds the flannel to the back of her neck, caresses her forehead with her other hand, pushing gently until Bernie sits up, resting against the bathroom wall. Serena shimmies down to sit next to her, hands her a bottle of mouthwash, waits until Bernie rinses and spits and flushes, and collapses back next to her, before she nudges her. “All right?”

Bernie nods. “Sorry.” Serena shakes her head, finds Bernie’s hand, and their fingers link. 

“My own fault,” Serena says, shortly. “For the wine, obviously, but more so for bringing up ex husbands. It’s the reaction they elicit, unfortunately,” Bernie snorts. “We really do have to think about telling him, you know?” Serena says shortly. “Because of Jason, and Cameron, and Charlotte?” She doesn’t take her eyes off Bernie, grips her hand like a vice, until Bernie lifts her head away from the wall, swallows, nods and meets her eyes. “Yes. I know.”

She knows Marcus isn’t an inherently bad man, knows her kids deserve better, so she steels herself, reminds herself that there is no other time than now. “Have you spoken to him at all?” she asks. 

Serena rolls her eyes. “Since when? Since you were declared missing, or since your funeral that I wasn’t allowed to go to?” Bernie gasps. “What?!” Serena shrugs. “I’ve had time to get over it. He was mourning you twice, you know. The woman he thought he had was gone, then actually gone. I get it now.” 

Serena notes Bernie’s jaw working overtime, carries on running her thumb along the back of her hand, adjusts her legs a bit to stave off the pins and needles. “He just wanted to pretend I didn’t exist,” Serena continues, when Bernie doesn’t. “Willed it, probably. He wanted the version of you back that he thought he had pre-me, even before finding out about Alex, and how long that had been going on. Which is funny, because I wanted to will you into existence, even if it meant you were with Alex, even if it meant you were with him and I never got to meet you, I just wanted a world with you in it again, and here you are, all of you, in one piece, so clearly his powers are a bit naff compared to mine, anyway.” Serena winks, and Bernie’s eyes crinkle, a hint of a smile, before her brow creases again.”So, the funeral?”

Serena sighs. “He wouldn’t even talk to me about the funeral. I mean, Cameron tried, but he was being just as much an ostrich as you were at one time with him, honestly, it’s no wonder you two managed to stay married for so long!” Serena nudges her legs, nudges again, and squeezes Bernie’s hand, waits until Bernie’s eyes meet hers and winks softly. It’s tentative and watery, but Bernie smiles. 

“Shall we do a selfie now?” she asks. “Put a bit of a backing track on it… do you think Staying Alive might be a bit much?!”

Serena blinks, then cackles.

“Marcus, I’m with your ex wife and I’m sorry to disappoint you but I’m not speaking from beyond the grave, either, so call me back when you get this message, please?” 

Bernie’s laugh abruptly turns into another heave. Serena, quick to her knees in a move she knows she'll regret come morning, smooths back her hair and rubs Bernie’s back as the bowl turns a shade that might just put her off Shiraz for a while. “It’s all right,” Serena murmurs. “You’ll be alright.” Bernie gets to her feet eventually, Serena moving with her. She stands in front of the sink, Serena handing her the toothbrush and paste, standing diligently rubbing her back as she brushes. “Christ! I look like death!” Bernie says, after she swills her mouth out. Their eyes meet in the mirror and there’s a moment that feels like moments before they both burst out laughing.

“Let’s take a photo, quick!” Serena says through tears. “Caption it Boo!” She reaches for her products. “Once I’m done, I will look like a corpse bride, mind you, just so you know, if you have no recollection, and Marcus might just think he is actually haunted!”

Bernie shifts slightly to stand behind Serena, watches her methodically remove her makeup. “You look beautiful,” Bernie says, quietly, meeting Serena’s eyes in the mirror before pressing her lips to Serena’s collarbone.

Serena almost says something flippant but catches the sincerity, the fire in Bernie’s eyes. She puts down her cotton wool pads, pulls Bernie’s arms tighter around herself. “So do you,” she says, before she turns, and they both blaze.

#berena #my fic #tumblr prompts #fic prompts #trauma prompts #serena campbell #bernie wolfe

[akaanonymouth]

“Is this okay?” for the trauma prompts please 😊

This one follows one from "you were crying in your sleep" and as is usual, is just a ridiculously unedited word vomit of something I'd like to expand on if wishes were kisses etc.

X

Serena wakes to a beam of sunlight slashing her face. She frowns, lifts her arm to shield her face as she starts to stretch and turn over. 

Freezes. 

Her eyes shoot open then rapidly blink as she tries to adjust to the light, to get her bearings. She gingerly moves the fingers of her outstretched hand, curling them towards her palm when she feels tendrils of hair between them. 

She inhales sharply, lungs trying to catch up with her heart as she realises where she is, with who she is.

The previous night comes flooding back as she takes in Bernie, still facing her, arm outstretched where they’d fallen asleep clasping their little fingers together. 

She brings her hand down slowly, watches as the hair between her knuckles falls onto Bernie’s cheek, and pushes it behind Bernie’s ear with her thumb, unable to help stroking her fingers along its length, marvelling at the new silver strands reflecting the sunlight. Her thumb rests against Bernie’s earlobe, caresses across it with a slight tremble until she allows gravity to take over, her arm coming to rest back between them, on top of Bernie’s own. She feels a shift in Bernie’s breathing, feels her whole body tense, the bed trembling. She lifts her gaze from where she’s about to link their fingers again to find Bernie looking at her, eyes wide. “Keep breathing,” she says, automatically, voice a whisper. “Breathe with me, you’re alright, we’re alright, it’s alright, you’re alright, Bernie, it’s me, it’s alright….” 

She holds eye contact until the wildness in Bernie’s calms, until she sees the terror start to wane and Bernie relaxes back into the mattress. She flicks her little finger outwards towards Bernie’s wrist, and when Bernie only blinks, moves her hand so that she can stroke it more firmly, keeps her voice just a breath above a whisper. 

“Is this okay?”

Bernie’s hand moves slowly, fingers encircling Serena’s whole wrist until they’re reaching to tickle Serena’s knuckles, and they can link hands. Serena squeezes back with as much fervour as Bernie gives, keeps squeezing and stroking when Bernie’s eyes close and she says her name like it’s Amen.

#berena #berena fic prompts #trauma prompts #this is awful compared to what's in my head but it had to come out #wow the Feelings I have for PTSD Bernie and Serena are taking me by surprise #bless their hearts #rusty writing #bernie wolfe #serena campbell #holby city #this took a while but i love thinking about it i just can't get it from brain to page but meh #ktlsyrtis #ask

[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

[ktlsyrtis]

I have a feeling you'll be barraged with requests, but... for "send me a pairing and a number...": Berena 24?

This may have ever so slightly got away from me 😬

24. “You’re the only one I trust to do this.”29. “I thought you were dead.”

Serena’s head jerks up as the doors to the ward slam open, Raf and Fletch pushing through a gurney at a run. They’re shouting something about a stabbing, extensive blood loss, their voices overlapping to make a jumble of the words. She strides forward to assess the situation, is almost to the gurney when she sees a flash of blonde hair, deep blue scrubs soaked in blood.

The world spins crazily beneath her for a moment, bile rising thick in her throat, and she isn’t sure how she keeps on her feet.

Bernie’s skin is waxy, the usual soft pink flush of color drained away, her lean body so still, almost fragile. And, god, there’s so much blood…

She swallows hard, forcing back the nausea. “What happened?”

“James Fielding,” Fletch snaps, his normally friendly voice tight with anger. “Managed to get his hands on a screwdriver and cornered the Major in the basement.”

She clenches her hands on the rail of the gurney, if only to stop them shaking, snaps "Get Ric Griffin, NOW!" at a wide-eyed Morven before the doors swing shut behind them.

The prep team bustles around them, Raf and Fletch disappearing into the scrub room, and for a moment they’re alone amidst the chaos. She reaches for the edge of Bernie's scrubs, almost black with blood, peeling it back slowly from her pale skin.

"S'rena?" The faint rasp of Bernie's voice makes her jump, heart racing. Bernie's eyes are barely open, glassy with pain, and Serena leans in close, takes her hand without thinking.

"It's all right, Bernie," she says, tries to inject a calm she doesn't feel into her voice. "Ric's on his way. He's going to fix you up, good as new. It'll be just another scar to impress the ladies."

Bernie's hand spasms briefly in her own, squeezing tight.

"Not Ric," she murmurs, soft enough that Serena has to bend even closer to hear. "Want you..."

Panic wells in Serena at the mere thought, every ounce of hard-earned level-headedness washed away in a flood of pure terror. She almost recoils, only the grip of Bernie's hand keeping her in place.

"Bernie, no. I- I can't."

From one moment to the next her eyes clear, seem to look directly into the core of Serena.

“You’re the only one I trust to do this.” There's no doubt in Bernie's words, just the same unwavering support that she's given from the beginning, that Serena’s come to rely on more than she cares to admit. "Please, Serena."

There's so much she wants to say, to tell Bernie. How important their friendship is to her and how it never feels like enough, that she wants Bernie with her always, whatever that means. Instead, she nods with a tight smile and Bernie relaxes, her hand going limp in Serena's, eyes slipping shut just as the nurses approach.

The routine of surgery prep helps calm Serena’s racing mind, the flow of water over her hands letting her push away the thought that it’s Bernie’s blood she’s washing form her skin, lock it and all of fear behind lock and key. Focus is what matters now.

It’s more complex than she hoped; a seemingly unending series of traumas that all require immediate attention. Serena staples and stitches like a woman possessed, knitting back together damaged organs, severed veins, sweat shining on her brow and crimson splattered across the front of her gown. Every move, every second is a race against time, one that Serena feels in her gut that she’s losing.

An unbroken strident tone shatters her concentration, heart seizing painfully in her chest.

Flatline.

For a moment, just a moment, Serena falters, the weight of it all overwhelming her. Her eyes fall for the first time to Bernie’s face — pale and alien in the harsh light — and all she can think is that this is Bernie. Brave, stubborn, brilliant Bernie. Her best friend. The woman she…

You’re the only one I trust to do this.

Bernie’s words surface in her mind, shore up her resolve. No one has ever had her back like Bernie Wolfe, and Serena will be damned if she lets her down.

A sharp whine fills the air as she takes the paddles from the nearby nurse.

“Clear.”

---

Movement flutters against Serena’s hand, so soft she almost misses it. She holds her breath until it repeats — stronger, more intentional. Glancing up at the monitors, she forces a smile through her exhaustion.

“Welcome back.”

“Serena? Wha-” Bernie breaks off, her words thick and slurred, blanketed under the dwindling effects of the anesthesia. She makes to sit up and Serena presses her back down against the bed, meets hardly any resistance.

“It’s all right, Bernie. Just relax.” The beeping of the monitor slows after a moment. Bernie looks so much smaller, delicate compared to her usual vitality, and Serena can’t stop herself from reaching out, brushing the fringe back from her eyes. “You gave us quite the scare.”

Bernie hums a bit, eyes closed. “Like to keep you on your toes.” A wet sort of laugh slips from Serena’s lips, high and a little hysterical, and Bernie’s eyes open, her gaze surprisingly focused. “I knew it. I knew you would save me.”

Her hand finds Bernie’s, tangling their fingers together. Serena knows she’s holding on too tight, but she can’t make her muscles relax, the feel of Bernie’s hand warm and real in her own the only thing keeping her from falling apart.

“I thought you were dead.” The gentle concern in Bernie’s eyes is almost her undoing. “We lost you, just for a minute, but I thought-” A sob breaks free, choking off her words and Serena turns her head away, doesn’t want Bernie to see her weakness.

“Serena.” A tug on her hand pulls her back, breaks through the last brittle wall holding her emotions at bay.

“I thought we lost you. I thought I lost you.” She dashes away the tears on her cheeks with her free hand, the other still tangled with Bernie’s slim fingers. “Bernie, I- I don’t know what I would’ve done, what I would do if you…”

“Hey.” Serena goes willingly as Bernie pulls her down, ends up perched on the edge of the hospital bed. Bernie wraps her up in an awkward hug, both of them mindful of the lines and monitors, of fresh stitches. “It’s okay, Serena. I’m here, I’m not going anywhere.”

She buries her face in the crook of Bernie’s neck, breathes deep until she finds the familiar scent of her beneath the tang of antiseptic, the lingering copper of blood, feels the thrum of Bernie’s pulse against her lips, steady and reassuring.

“You’re my best friend,” she whispers against Bernie’s skin, the words coming easier when she can hide from the intensity of Bernie’s eyes. “I don’t think I’ve ever told you that, and I was so scared I’d never get the chance. That you’d never know how much you mean to me.”

Bernie makes a unintelligible noise and Serena lifts her head, concerned. It’s Bernie’s eyes that freeze in her place; dark and fathomless, burning with emotions that echo in Serena’s chest, stoke a flame behind her sternum that flushes her whole body with heat. There’s a moment of perfect clarity and Serena can do nothing but surrender to the gravity that has always been between them.

Bernie’s lips are warm and soft, chapped from the dry air of theater, impossibly perfect, and Serena can’t imagine why she hadn’t done this sooner.

It only lasts a moment. Serena pulls back scant inches, feels Bernie’s soft breath against her lips.

“Sorry,” she breathes, suddenly concerned that she’s got it all wrong, even as a smile threatens to split her face wide.

“Are you kidding?” Bernie’s eyes sparkle up at her, a flush of pink high on her cheekbones. “I’ve wanted to do that for weeks.”

A giddy laugh bubbles out of Serena, Bernie’s fingers squeezing hers that much tighter. She rests their foreheads together, nudges her nose softly against Bernie’s.

“You know,” she says, pressing another soft peck against Bernie’s lips, “there are easier ways to get my attention.”

Bernie’s laugh is a raspy shadow of her usual honk, trails off into a soft groan of pain. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Serena can see that she’s flagging, tucks a few unruly curls behind her ears. “Sleep now, darling. You need your rest.”

Her eyes are closed before Serena finishes speaking. As she makes to pull away, Bernie’s hand tightens in her own.

“You’ll stay?” Bernie’s voice is faint, already halfway toward sleep. A small furrow creases her brow and Serena smooths it away with her thumb.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

[drabble prompts]

@lesbianishstuff @this-is-krikkit

#berena #my fic #replies #drabble prompts #tswsots

[ao3feed-berena]

Parting is such sweet sorrow

by Squishmitten

Bernie and Serena are working hard to get the trauma centre up and running. An unexpected phone call throws a spanner in the works...

Words: 1035, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Holby City

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/F

Characters: Serena Campbell, Bernie Wolfe

Relationships: Serena Campbell/Bernie Wolfe

Additional Tags: Berena appreciation week, Day Five, prompt - Nairobi, BAW - Berena Appreciation Week 2018, Angst, Separation

Read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2Mw5lj4

#ao3feed #ao3feed-berena #berena

[tea-and-procrastination]

If ur going my way berena title prompt

Another post-Life In The Freezer fix. Because the same sentence wanted to go in two different directions and they both fitted prompts (the other is here).

No one’s ever run after Bernie before, Serena thinks in the back of the taxi, handsclutching the strap of her handbag as she watches the unfamiliar city pass.

It’s all Raf’s fault, really, she thinks as they pull up outside thehospital. One drunken comment andsuddenly we’re looking at flights, and now here I am.

Shegazes up at the entrance then takes a steeling breath. ‘Pull yourself together,Campbell,’ she mutters.

Onehospital is very much like another – even if all the signs are in a languageshe doesn’t understand. She asks for directions instead, walks down endlesscorridors. It isn’t until she’s outside the doors leading to the shiny newtrauma unit that the enormity of it hits her: that Bernie left her – ran fromher – and might not even want to see her. This could be it, forever, and sheisn’t sure she’s ready for that.

Butbefore she can turn and hurry away the doors open and a crowd of doctors andnurses spill out; the end of a shift looks the same the world over too.

Bernieis at the back, separated from the rest by the distance of a few paces. Thedistance grows when she sees Serena, her eyes widening and her mouth droppingand her feet freezing.

‘Serena?’she breathes, looking at her in disbelief. ‘But I– you– I said–’

‘Iknow what you said,’ Serena says, taking one step towards her. ‘And I know whatI said.’ Another step. ‘And I thinkmaybe we were both a little – hasty?’ She’s close enough to touch her now, butdoesn’t.

‘Why–why are you here?’

‘Becauseall I can think about is you,’ Serena says honestly. ‘And I think Raf’s justabout to kill me if I don’t do something about it.’

Berniedoesn’t move, doesn’t speak, just stares at her.

‘Butif you don’t want me here I’ll–’

‘I do,’Bernie says, her hand shooting out to grasp Serena’s arm. ‘I, uh, I owe you anexplanation. And dinner.’

‘Whydon’t we just start with dinner?’ Serena suggests, hearing the note of panic inBernie’s voice. ‘And see where we go from there?’

Bernienods, worries her lip between her teeth. ‘I’ve missed you,’ she says quietly.

‘I’mhere now,’ Serena soothes, gently touching Bernie’s knuckles.

Bernie’seyes are so wide and soft and fearful, and Serena smiles a little, tries toreassure her without words because she keep choosing the wrong ones when itcomes to Bernie and she doesn’t want to make the same mistake again.

‘Iwon’t make any declarations,’ she promises, and feels Bernie become a littleless tense.

‘Andif I were to kiss you?’ Bernie asks, moving a little closer.

‘Nocomplaints here,’ Serena smiles, her eyebrow arched in challenge.

‘I’dbest take you home then,’ Bernie murmurs, their gazes locked, their nosesalmost touching.

‘Howvery forward of you, Ms Wolfe,’ Serena teases, her eyes sparkling. She slipsher arm through Bernie’s, gently grips the crook of her elbow. ‘Lead on, then.’

[send me a made-up fic title and i’ll tell you what i would write to go with it]

#berena #fanfic #fic #ficlet #prompt #nonny-mouse #i wrote a thing