Derailed

"Sarah Reese, fourth-year medical student."

She shouldn't feel like a deer in headlights, but at this moment the feeling was undeniable. She knew he would be here, she was all too aware that today was to be his first day as trauma fellow at Gaffney Chicago Medical Centre.

What she wasn't expecting was the train derailment. A mass-casualty incident was something you never saw coming, no matter how prepared the hospital may be to manage it. Needless to say this was not the way his first day was supposed to go. They were supposed to introduce themselves nonchalantly, probably as they passed each other in the hallway. Definitely not as they worked over a man with crush injuries, covered in blood.

She had panicked when they got the page. Maggie was all over it, announcing very loudly and succinctly exactly what was going on. As much as she tried to hie it, Sarah's heart was racing. Not for the injured, not because they were about to be inundated with patients - but because she knew he was taking the train that morning. And he was on his way.

She had let out a long breath she wasn't entirely aware she was holding when she saw him wheeled through the door. He was on top of the gurney, doing chest compressions on his patient. Somewhere along the line he had managed to cut his arm and he was covered in what she rightly assumed was someone else's blood, but he looked otherwise okay.

He was okay enough to be taking control of the situation and arguing with poor Will Halstead. That was a good sign.

Just like he was doing, she was working on autopilot. She was in the room, gloves on her hands and ready to help. She knew he'd tell her what he needed, but she also knew somewhere in the back of her mind that he couldn't just bark out orders using her name. So when he asked, she had awkwardly replied. It felt unusual, particularly giv en they had woken up in bed together only a few hours ago, but it was necessary.

His role at Med was his dream job. They couldn't allow their relationship to jeopardise that. As much as they didn't want it to be a problem, he was a fellow, she was a med student. The hospital had very clear rules about relationships with medical students. Then again, they weren't exactly playing by the rules anymore.

His next question drew her back out of her thoughts and into action. "Can you do a course in the groin?"

"Mm-hmm."

"Get a left femoral in there."

"Yes, sir," she replied under her breath, collecting what she needed and heading back to the patient to sterilise the area.

Connor, who knew her better than just about anyone else in the world, watched her moving slowly as he was working on another of the patient's injuries. Knowing she needed to speed up, he grabbed a bottle and squirted it over the area. "There, you're sterilised. Now stick it."

It was the kick in the pants she had needed. Don't overthink this, she thought to herself. You can do this, and he knows it.

But there was a problem. The nurse to her left didn't even look up from what she was doing. "He's a patient, not a pincushion."

"I can't find the vein," she admitted, trying her hardest not to start panicking.

Connor was there in an instant. He took the needle, had the line in first go and set about shocking the patient back into a normal rhythm, then ordering tests and arranging for ther patient to be sent up to the OR.

As the patient was being readied to be taken up for surgery, Connor left the room. He brushed past her on his way out, very briefly squeezing her wrist as he left.

It was his way of saying I see you. And, she supposed, I'll see you later.

They had both been so busy caring for their injured patients, pulled in so many different directions that they didn't really get a chance to stop until things finally started to calm down hours later.

When Sarah finally did find herself with a moment to spare, she didn't seek him out like she thought she would. She found herself in one of Med's training bays, her earphones in and music turned up loud, practicing the central line procedure over and over and over again.

This was where Connor found her long after her shift had ended. He stood in the doorway watching her for a long moment before he said anything. She was so in her element, not overwhelmed or overthinking or scared of working on a human being.

"Central line. Can't tell you how many times I missed before I finally got it."

She didn't look up. She was still practicing when she replied. "I know how to do it. I just couldn't do it in there."

"It takes practice, that's all."

She finally stopped and turned to face him. "I'm fine with him. I never miss."

"Yeah, he's the ideal patient. You can't hurt him, and his life's not hanging in the balance."

She took a breath. For the first time in months, she spoke to him with one hundred per cent honesty about where she was really at. "If this rotation weren't a requirement, I wouldn't be here."

"Where would you be?"

"I'm a lab person."

"Pathology?"

"Maybe."

He paused for a moment, considering his next words very carefully. "Every med student, once they start dealing with patients, thinks they'd do better in pathology." He paused, then added, "I did."

That stopped her. She put the practice needle and her phone down, processing what she was hearing. In a very small voice, she asked him, "You did?"

He nodded, looking over his shoulder briefly before he took one step closer and tucked a stray curl behind her ear. "I did," he replied softly, his hand still on her cheek. She turned her head ever so slightly, leaning into his touch. "I know you can do this, Sarah. I also know you are the queen of over-analysing, but you are allowed to make mistakes. You don't have anything to prove to me."

"I choked," she replied equally as quietly, now absentmindedly tracing patterns on the back of his other hand. "That man needed real help, and I panicked and I choked, and-"

"- And nothing," he interrupted the beginnings of her rambling. "You are a med student. There's a reason they make med students do placements before they become doctors. You're still learning. Hell, I'm still learning too."

"It's not the same, Connor, and you know it."

"Bullshit." He looked her dead in the eyes. "I know you can put in a central line. You are capable of a great many things, Sarah Reese, whether you see that or not."

She didn't reply, but wrapped her arms around him instead. They had no idea how long they stood there in that hug, but in that moment both needed it more than they would admit.

After a long time, Sarah told him quietly, "I broke a little girl's ribs today. But we got her heart re-started."

Connor smiled, his chin now sitting comfortably on top of her head. "So you saved her life."

"I guess you could say that." She thought about it for a moment, then added, "It felt awful at the time. But now, I guess ... she's alive. That's what matters."

Connor stood back slightly so he could see her face. "Some days, being a doctor really sucks. But those moments - the ones where we know we helped someone, where we actually saved their life - they're the ones we need to hold onto."

Just as she opened her mouth to respond, his pager went off. "Damnit - I need to get upstairs."

Before he made it as far as the door, he turned back for one last look. He noticed the small smile on her face, and couldn't help but return it. In a moment of throwing caution to the wind, he took a quick look over his shoulder and muttered, "Screw it."

He took three steps forward and closed the distance between them. His hand wound through her hair, her arms wrapped around his shoulders, and their lips crashed together.

Just as quickly as it had started, it was over, and he was gone.