Chapter Text
“I, honestly, don’t need you to follow me around.” Charlotte ‘Charlie’ Wolfe flips through a manila folder containing papers on her desk. The space was meticulously organized, even decorated with various types of succulents. “I’m perfectly fine...and you’re the new one here, not me.”
“New?” Bernie Wolfe furrows her brow, looking over toward her daughter as she leans against the door frame to the young woman’s office, “more like returning to an old haunt.” She glances around the space, “I do like it though, what you’ve done in here. You’re lucky you don’t have to share an office.”
“You share your office with your wife. I’ve seen the two of you close the blinds on occasion when she visits.” Her eyes lift up, meeting her mother’s, “reckon the two of you don’t mind sharing all that much.” Serena was still on her leave in order to recover a bit more.
Blushing, Bernie turns her head, suddenly finding the porcupine-like succulent interesting, situated on a filing cabinet near the door. “She’s eager to return to work. Goes a bit stir crazy at home, especially since giving up the drink.” She explains, reaching a hand up to touch the stiff, rubbery leaves. “You used to name the flowers when you were small. The few that were in the garden in front of the old house. Have you named these?”
Charlotte smirks a little to herself, closing the file and setting it onto the top of her desk, “I didn’t think you’d remember.”
“How could I forget? You were four and I thought it was the most adorable thing you’ve ever done at the time.” Bernie gives a quick glance back toward her daughter, “so, what’s his name?”
“Horatio.” Charlie mumbles, smirking playfully when her mother cracks a smile. She then tilts her head toward the door, “being that I’m ranking consultant on the ward, you’d better get going, Ms. Wolfe. It’s still only your first week back.” She teases, “and you’re supposed to impress me, aren’t you?”
Bernie gives a playful chortle, her face showing a sense of astonishment, “Cameron was right, you are the worst.” She begins to back out of the door.
“At least I don’t threaten him with blackmail, so it could be worse. I heard one of his former superiors did that once.” Charlie grins when her mother finally leaves the office, giving a look over to the sofa under the hallway windows, “well, you kept quiet.”
“You asked me not to speak during your conversations with other people.” Raf Di Luca offers, lounging back on the modern crimson colored sofa, “did you get a couch because your mother and Serena have one in their office?”
“No, I got a sofa because I like naps and it’s difficult to take one while sitting up.” Charlie motions to the modern paintings covering the walls, then her antique appearing, vegan leather, tan desk chair, “I like it when things match and are in their proper places.”
“I reckon so. You attempted to alphabetize the files in that cabinet over there for an hour the other day.” He motions with a presenting wave of his hand in the direction of a filing cabinet. “Touch of OCD, have we?”
“Touch of not minding our own business, have we?”
“Ouch.” Raf pushes himself to sitting up, “has there been any more talk about moving you to Keller?”
“None that I’m aware of. I thought Ric was heading up there once Serena returns.” Charlie shrugs, “I didn’t make that call for him. He did that on his own. Mum offered to head to ED as to not cause too much confusion between us, but Hanssen insisted. Said they’re fully staffed and AAU needs the attention, whatever that means.”
“So now your entire family is working in the same unit, or will be working in the unit once Serena returns.” Raf stands from his place on the sofa, a spring in his step. “As Serena and Bernie try their damnedest to keep their hands off of one another.”
“Yep, because that’s what two people do when they work together. They become sexual deviants who start having it off in the middle of the room whenever they catch the eye of one another.” She glances over to him from the top of the file she’s reading. When it causes the spirit to chuckle, Charlie continues, deciding to change the subject, “you know, Evie Fletcher calls me on the regular now.”
“You’re close in age. She probably just wants a friend.” Raf teases, smiling to himself.
“She talks about you, about her mother and siblings, about Serena.” Charlie shakes her head, “I feel bad for her. Lending an ear is the very least I can do.” She exhales slowly, “you know, I should ask her if she’d like to rearrange my filing cabinets or something.”
“And waste the hour you put into it?” Raf hums a chuckle. “Though, really, let’s get down to a bit of business.” He manages to close the office door, which even he’s surprised about. “More and more abilities every day.” Raf mumbles to himself. He lifts his head, glancing over to the young consultant. “Things are going to get very weird for you, very quickly. Mrs. McKinnie is...feeling quite generous.”
“I don’t understand why she has so much power.” Charlotte closes the file she had been flipping through, placing it onto her desk before slowly folding her arms over her chest, gazing toward the white scrub wearing spirit. “I mean, doesn’t she have a supervisor or something of the like? It seems as if many of her abilities and gifts are spent on her own family. To make her daughter happy, even to make Jason happy.”
“Serena’s been through more in the past five years than most people have been through in their entire lives.” He answers simply, “everyone deserves a bit of happiness once in a while. Serena more than most.” Raf sighs, placing his hands against his hips, “if given the opportunity, she’s one of the most loving individuals you could ever encounter.”
“I’m aware.” Charlie swallows, “she and I...we grew a bit closer when uh...when we thought my Mum was dead.” She answers quietly, matter-of-factly. The young consultant clears her throat, trying to shake herself out of the mindset. “So, have you any...hints of what Mrs. McKinnie is planning?”
“Oh, why spoil the surprise?” A sly grin begins to form on Raf’s face, his hands sliding from his hips into his pockets. Watching the young woman as she attempts to formulate a response or conclusion in her head, he motions toward the closed door, “Here we go.”
Adrian Fletcher gives a quick knock on the office door before pushing it open. He had been lending a helping hand while the usual head nurse of the department was on holiday. “Sorry to be a bother, Wolfe Senior needs a hand in Trauma Bay.” He offers a translucent blue smock to her, knowing she hadn’t had the opportunity to change into a set of scrubs.
“What can you tell me?” Charlie walks near him, sliding the neck piece of the smock over her head. Not that her office was terribly far from her office, but she likes to be properly briefed. Something she knows Fletch has gotten used to about her. “Fletch?”
“Female, early to mid twenties. Appears as if she’s been living rough.” Fletch tilts his head in thought, walking in tandem with her toward the Trauma Bay, “pulse thirty-two, BP one-forty-six over ninety-two. Respirations are shallow, nearly non-existent. Found unconscious in front of a nearby market. No identification on her. ”
“Of course not. That would make it too easy.” She smirks a little to herself, finally pushing through the clear flaps of plastic blocking the way into the Trauma Bay. Grabbing a pair of nitrile examination gloves from a box on the wall near the door, pulling them onto her hands. Charlie stands at the side of the bed, looking up to her mother’s face, “Ms. Wolfe, you requested my assistance?”
“Could I have the room, please?” Bernie glances to the nurses, waiting for them to leave before making eye contact with her daughter.
“From what Fletch said, this isn’t something...something you should need my help on.” Charlotte glances down to the patient’s face, then back up to her mother when she goes a few moments without answering her. “I don’t understand.”
The elder of the two Wolfe women begins to speak after a moment, “I don’t either. I saw her...I saw her die...”
“Mum?” Charlie shakes her head a little, not understanding anything of what the woman is talking about or even where she’s going with her train of thought. When she still doesn’t answer her, Charlie reaches out, gently taking hold of her mother’s wrist, “how can I help you?”
“I need you to take this over.” Bernie mumbles, removing her nitrile examination gloves, tossing them into a bin as well as her plastic smock apron. “I need to phone Serena.”
“She still isn’t due back yet, you know that.” Charlie’s eyes follow her mother as she walks about the room, realizing there’s something else to this. “Why do you need to phone Serena?”
A silence falls between them as Bernie glances to the patient again before looking back toward her own daughter, “because that young woman right there...is Elinor.” Bernie pauses, finally taking her leave by pushing her way through the clear plastic panels.
Raf begins to chuckle from his position of leaning against the wall within the small space. “Told ye it was a doozy.” He moves to the foot of the bed, “wait until you clean her up. She’ll have a hell of a time though. Amnesia.”
“How is this possible?” Charlie asks him in hushed whispers, “how was she able to present herself like she was for all of that time?” She lifts her head to quickly look his way, “she was very dead. I attended her funeral.”
“Same could be said for Bernie, you know. You went to your mother’s funeral as well, yet here she is. Still alive and kicking.” When the young woman refuses to listen to him any longer, “examine Elinor. I think it will answer many of your questions. At least until Mrs. McKinnie is able to.”
Sighing, Charlotte glances up to the window leading to the room, she gives a quick knock against it with her knuckles, gaining the attention of a few of the nurses that were waiting for their signal to return. “Clean her up, get some bloods going. CBC, LFT, AFT, hCG to air on the safe side. I need a full toxicology report as soon as possible. Get her down for a scan.” She calls out, “I need my stethoscope.” When she’s handed one by Fletch in the meantime, she flashes him a quick smirk. “Thanks, Mr. Fletcher.”
“Sounds so bizarre coming from you, Junior.” Fletch helps the surgeon give her a proper exam, “should I get fluids going?”
“Absolutely, as well as oxygen. Put her on ten minute obvs.” Charlie swallows, not knowing what she could possibly do if this really is Elinor Campbell, “Let’s give this young woman the best treatment possible.”