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quiet tears

Summary:

Baran has a horrible, no good, very bad first day at PTMC. But you're there to welcome her home with the love and care she needs.

Notes:

I couldn't NOT write something after watching last week's episode! someone give this woman a hug asap! (I volunteer)

Work Text:

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“Hey, honey, how was your –” your sentence trails off as you step into the foyer to greet your girlfriend. It only takes one look at her red eyes and damp lashes for you to immediately surge forward and gather her up tightly in your arms, cradling her head to your neck. 

Baran shakes against you – tiny, repressed little sobs – and she can’t stop the tears that dampen your shirt. 

“Oh, sweetheart,” you coo, your heart all but breaking in two. You hold her even closer, tenderly stroking her hair as she cries, staying steady so that you can take her weight. Now that she’s home and you’re here, you want her to know she doesn’t have to carry it all alone anymore. 

You feel so protective over Baran in moments like this. It reminds you how human and breakable she is, even though she rarely lets anyone but you see it. She’s still someone who hurts, who needs someone to hold her and dry her tears. And you’re more than happy to be the one to do it.

At some point you manage to gently transition Baran to the couch, although you keep her tucked in close to your side the whole way. Her tears have slowed now, and she seems completely wrung out, like every ounce of energy and passion and heart that are so core to her being have been sucked right out of her. 

“An absolutely shit first day then?” you ask gently, handing her some tissues. You tuck a wayward curl behind her ear and let your fingers trail softly against her jawline. “I’m so sorry, baby.” 

Baran blows her nose and shakes her head, almost as if she’s disappointed in herself. “I never let it get to me like this,” she says, her voice a little hoarse. “Today was just…” She wipes away an errant tear. “Yeah. Shitty.” 

You smile sadly, eyes fixed on hers, giving her your full attention. “Do you want to talk about it, or not talk about it?” you ask, rubbing slow circles between her shoulder blades. “I can do either, sweetheart. Dinner’s already finished if you want to eat.” 

Baran sniffles and gives you a tiny smile. “I probably should eat. I can’t remember the last time I had something.” 

“Food it is,” you declare, popping to your feet. “I’ll make you a cup of tea too. Why don’t you get changed into something comfy and I’ll meet you in the kitchen?” 

A few minutes later, you have salad, pasta, and tea laid out on the kitchen table and Baran is sitting across from you with one leg curled up in her chair, wearing an old t-shirt of yours and her softest pair of leggings. 

The two of you eat in silence for a bit, which doesn’t bother you. You know Baran’s shifts are full of chaos, noise, and split-second decisions, and the chance to just eat a meal in silence can feel heavenly for her. 

“I had seizures,” Baran finally says, her voice low and quiet. She scoops up a forkful of pasta but doesn’t eat it, her eyebrows furrowed as she stares off into the distance. “At least three, I think. Absence ones, no more than thirty seconds as far I could tell. I called Dr. Fairgraves and he’ll see me on Monday. I suppose we’ll need to adjust the medication again.” 

You reach for her, laying your hand on top of hers. Your heart aches for her. You know how badly she wanted to make a stellar first impression at PTMC today, and dealing with seizures definitely would have made that complicated. 

“I’m sorry, baby,” you hum, running your thumb over her knuckles. “How are you feeling now?” 

“I feel fine!” Baran says exasperatedly. “That’s what’s so ridiculous about them. I feel fine before and after, but I still freeze up while they’re happening.” 

“That’s what an absence seizure is, honey,” you remind her gently. “It’s literally your brain misfiring. You have no control over it.” 

“I know,” Baran sighs, running a hand through her curls. “I know. I still hate that they got triggered on today of all days. The previous attending was quite reluctant to hand over the reins, and this just gave him more fuel to question me. I haven’t had a seizure for months now, and then it was today that I had several. It was not how I wanted things to go.” 

You give her a sympathetic look, not wanting to interrupt as she vents the day’s frustrations. 

“And the department is more of a disaster than I thought,” she continues. “Everyone’s burnt out, there’s malpractice everywhere, and more than one scandal has been covered up. Not to mention I have admin breathing down my neck about patient satisfaction and productivity scores. I have quite the uphill climb ahead of me.” 

“Good thing you’ve never been afraid of a challenge,” you say, giving her a knowing smirk. 

She laughs softly at that, her shoulders dropping a little. “True.” 

“Still, I’m sorry it was such a shitshow and you had to deal with the seizures on top of everything. You’re a trooper,” you say, squeezing her hand. 

“Thank you, azizam,” Baran murmurs, lifting your hand and kissing your palm. “Honestly, the thought of coming home to you was truly what got me through.” 

“Aww, you’re too sweet,” you grin. You get up and come around the table to sit in Baran’s lap, looping your arms around her neck. You give her a long, gentle kiss. “I missed you too, baby,” you hum against her lips. 

Baran puts one hand on the middle of your back and the other on your jaw, and she pulls you into her for another kiss. She takes the lead on this one, guiding your mouth against hers, pressing into you. Something warm races up your spine. 

“Enough about work,” Baran says, her voice low and firm. “Right now, I just want you.” 

As always, you can never deny your girlfriend. 

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