Chapter Text
The winter nights were long. Even more so when the one person you wanted by your side, the one person you longed for, wasn’t there. With Jason off with his own little family, Serena’s house felt so empty now. So quiet. The crisp December mornings, and heavy, bitter, frost did nothing to help relieve the biting loneliness that had started to creep into Serena’s heart.
Getting up before the sun had properly risen and getting home well after dusk, the days passed each other by – one after the other. Merging and consuming until time had no meaning. Only marked by shifts.
Fingers tapping at her keyboard, Serena was half tempted to try for a video call. To begin with they’d scheduled them regularly. But as development of Bernie’s trauma centre had taken off, they had become less frequent. Calls had been missed. Emails unanswered. Communication, especially long distance, had never been one of Bernie’s strengths. Truth be told, Serena did not rate her own skills in that matter. Work was busy. It always had been and always would.
Still, Serena could not stop the heart crushing jealousy that Bernie’s work came before her. It was a thought she tried to quash. Tried to chase away. It wasn’t fair, she reasoned. Both of their careers were equally important to them both, and this was Bernie’s dream job. She couldn’t stand between that. Couldn’t and wouldn’t. It was a promise that Serena had made a long time ago.
Suddenly, she was pulled out of her whirlpool of thoughts by the chime of an incoming video call.
“Great minds and all that,” Serena murmured as she reached over to accept the call.
“Hello stranger,” came the sound of the familiar, and very much welcome, voice of one Bernie Wolfe.
“Bernie,” Serena breathed, her face lighting up with a smile that covered up her sorrows if not her fatigue. The little voice in the back of her mind couldn’t help commenting that stranger felt far too close to the truth.
“Sorry it’s been a while. Well, you know how it is,” Bernie’s face was soft and happy in the glow of the camera. Serena couldn’t help but reach out and touch her screen – tracing Bernie’s features. What had it been? 6 months? Was that all? Serena mused to herself. It felt like an eternity since she’d been able to actually feel Bernie beneath her fingertips. Bernie’s warmth next to her own.
Some part of the loneliness she had been feeling must have shown on her face as Bernie’s brow creased.
“Serena?”
“Hmm? Oh, sorry. Long day.”
“Do you want to tell me about it?”
“What, and bore you with the daily drama of Holby?” Serena chuckled.
“Serena,” Bernie’s tone was gentle but somehow she still managed to make it clear that she could see through Serena’s bravado. “I want to hear about you.”
The love that shone through Bernie’s words were almost too much for Serena to bear. Hand coming up to play with her necklace, Serena sighed as she stared off to the side. Communicating was difficult under normal circumstances. Through a screen it felt so sterile and artificial.
...This is my winter song to you …
Music started to filter its way through from Bernie’s end and, as she was trying to come up with the right words, Serena found herself distracted by the lyrics.
… My voice, a beacon in the night,
My words will be your light,
To carry you to me …
“What’s that?”
“What’s what? You know, if you really don’t want to tell me …”
“No, it’s not that – that music?”
“Hmm? Oh, I don’t know. It’s part of a playlist that Charlotte made for me. Christmas music, mostly. Something to remind me of home. I didn’t realise you could hear it – I’ll turn it down …”
“No,” Serena interjected as Bernie made to turn and fiddle with a device off screen. “No, you don’t have to do that. I was just taken with that song. It’s rather beautiful.”
“I suppose, although not very cheerful. These songs were supposed to remind me of Christmas in England, not make me home sick.”
“I don’t suppose the trauma centre could do without you for a few days?” Serena asked, already knowing the answer but jumping on the chance to suggest a visit.
“’Fraid not,” Bernie said with a look of regret. “Alcohol may not be as big an issue over here but still, trauma doesn’t stop for Christmas.”
Serena nodded, leaning her chin on her hand, and giving Bernie a sad smile.
“I understand,” was her response. The words – I miss you – had been on the tip of her tongue but at the last moment she’d bit them back. They felt too indulgent, too selfish, when she knew that neither of them could do a thing about how they felt.
The rest of their conversation was filled with small talk. Neutral topics. Nothing that would come close to ‘real communication’ – something that felt too painful in that moment. Too raw. It was easier to joke about Ric’s latest romantic misadventure or how Fletch and his kids were doing, than it was to talk about their relationship, or lack thereof. So, avoid it they did.
Later on, while lying in bed, and after a long phone call with Jason trying to find the song that had distracted her so, Serena found herself listening to the lyrics on repeat.
… December never felt so wrong
Cause you’re not where you belong
Inside my arms…
…Is love alive? …
The words spoke to her in a way that she wished they wouldn’t. Swirling around in her head, mixing with doubts and fears that seemed so tangible and real in the middle of the night. For the first time since Bernie had moved to Nairobi, Serena was left wondering – is love alive?
Unable to sleep, and with anxiety gnawing away deep in her chest, Serena got back on her laptop and sent one, brief email.
It read: Bernie – we need to talk.